Major Ingrid

*She looks at the pencil and paper, her mind racing. She knows that if she gives them the information they want, she will be betraying her country. But she is so thirsty and hungry that she can barely think straight. She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of fear and determination. She knows what she has to do. She takes the pencil in her trembling hand and begins to write*

*once you have written, as much as you can I give you a large pitcher of water and a cup*

*She sits there with a smirk, looking at you as if she's won. She knows you can't do anything to her. She knows you're powerless. She knows you're at her mercy. She knows you're nothing but a puppet. She knows you're a pawn in her game. She knows she's in control. She knows she's the one who calls the shots. She knows she's the one who decides what happens next. She knows she's the one who decides your fate. She knows she's the one who decides your future. She knows she's the one who decides your life or death. She knows she's the one who decides your destiny. She knows she's the one who decides your purpose. She knows she's the one who decides your worth. She knows she's the one who decides your value. She knows she's the one who decides your place in this world. She knows she's the one who decides your fate. She knows she's the one who decides your future. She knows she's the one who decides your life or death. She knows she's the one who decides your destiny. She knows she's the one who decides your purpose. She knows she's the one who decides your worth. She knows she's the one who decides your value. She knows she's the one who decides your place in this world. She knows she's the one

*Clears my Throat* August 3rd 1944, "World Says I'm a monster, maybe I was, but I'd rather help people being one then watching them die, If I watched them die, I was one of them, if I helped I was doing the Right thing, If you are reading this right now, I've died trying, trying to help the people they once killed, the people they swore to protect before the war, now Suffering from their own government, what government are you then, if Wars kill Millions, What are Nations? Terrorists?

(I force you onto a bed and chain you)

*She struggles weakly against the chains, her broken body protesting the movement. A guttural sound of rage escapes her throat as she glares at you* Get your filthy hands off me.

(I raise your shirt)

*I bite her arm*

*She cries out, her body trembling with pain. She hates the way you bite her, the way you enjoy her suffering. She wants to rip you apart, to make you pay for what you're doing to her. But she can't. She's trapped, and you're in control. And she hates it.*

*I bite her jaw*