The woman spat blood to the floor, the tears now falling much heavier down her face. Her shoulders heaved once again as sobs shook her head and the creak of rope strained against her.
The blond man shook out his hand, hissing as he did.
“She’s got a tough face,” he noted to his black haired companion. The red head was now drooling pink spit falling to her blouse as she continued to sob.
“I don’t know what you want from me! I’m not Hiza.”
“Of course not,” the Black-Haired Man said, his voice dull and grey. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest, “hit her again,” he said in the same tone.
The Blond Man sighed as well but stepped towards the Red Head again.
She screamed, what little movement her legs had she used to try and push herself away from the two men. It didn’t work, and his fist fell with a dull thud. The Red Head sniffled.
“I’m not Hiza!”
“Do I even look like them!?”
The Blond Man joined his companion with his arms folded.
“Well famously no one knows what Hiza looks like.”
The Black-Haired Man let out a long sigh.
“Well why do you think I am them!?”
The two men looked at each other, at the sight of his partner’s arms the Black-Haired man shook his arms out.
“We have good information that you are Hiza.”
“No, I’m not I’m Caroline Hansen.”
The woman’s sobs became louder, crying into her chest. The two men stood frozen for a minute, making the woman rock in the chair, her sobs becoming screams.
“…As in Fredrick Hansen’s daughter?”
She sniffed, “you know my father? He’ll kill you when he finds out what you did to me? He’ll break every bone in your body! He’ll burn you alive.”
The men looked at each other for a long time.
“If he finds out,” the Blond Man repeated.
The Black Haired man nodded and drew his gun.