that?'
'I have a strict rule: I don't get involved with people who work for me.'
'What?' she asked, feeling heat rush to her face.
'I don't want this to end when we walk out of here.'
'Oh.' She grinned. 'Neither do I.'
SCREAM GEMS PRESENTS OTTO SCHRECK
in
SCHRECK THE INQUISITOR
She is strapped to a chair in the center of a bare room, squinting into the brilliant light as if trying to see who is behind it.
Her young face is frightened.
'Who's there?' she asks. 'Please, I know someone's there. Who are you? What do you want with me?'
'I am the Grand Inquisitor. I wish to ask you a few questions.'
She groans. 'Please, what's going on?'
'You have information I need.'
'Who are you?'
He steps from behind the light. He wears a black, hooded robe.
'Oh Jesus.'
'Take not the name of the Lord in vain, heretic.'
She cranes her neck, trying to look past him. 'Ted, are you here someplace? Ted? Is this some kind of…'
'Who is this Ted? One of your heretic friends?'
'What's this heretic stuff?'
'Tell me about the Coven.'
'Oh God…'
His hand flashes out. It smacks her cheek, the heavy blow knocking her head to the side. She begins to cry. 'Tears will do you no good, witch.' Grabbing her hair, he jerks her head backwards. 'Tell me about the Coven.'
'What Coven?' she cries out, her voice shrill.
'Ah, you will play your games.' He raises a handful of her long, black hair. 'Do you wish to lose your precious hair?'
'No!'
He removes shears from his robe pocket. 'The names, then, of those in your Coven.'
'I don't know anything about a Coven.'
She screams, as if in pain, when he cuts through the hair. He cuts close to her scalp, and tosses great handsful into the darkness beyond the small area of light. Though she yells and pleads and flings her head about, he works feverishly and doesn't stop until nothing remains but short, choppy bristle.
Schreck steps back, and nods with approval. 'Are you prepared, now, to give me the information?'
'You bastard!' she shrieks. 'Goddamn you to hell, you goddamn fucking bastard!'
'You dare speak tome of Hell and damnation? You? A sister of the Devil?'
'Fucking pervert!'
A grin curls his lips.
The rage suddenly leaves her face, 'I'm sorry,' she mumbles. 'Please, I'm sorry. I'll do what you want. I'll tell you anything. Just don't hurt me. Please.'
'Tell me the names.'
'John Brown, and…'
'You take me for a fool?'
'No!'
'I could tear off your fingernails. Would you like that?'
'No,' she sobs.
'Perhaps you would prefer me to bum out your eyes, or snip your nipples off.'
She shakes her head, crying softly.
'There are so many ways to make you speak of your hellish brethren: breaking bones, burning holes in your tender flesh, slicing it with a knife, shredding it with a whip, tearing it off inch by inch with my teeth. I've done it all. Crude methods, but effective. What shall we do with you?'
'Let me go,' she pleads. 'I promise. I'll never tell anybody anything.'
'You must tell me something, first.'
'I don't know about any Coven. If I knew, I'd tell you. Honest! I don't know anything about Covens or witches or heretics-'
'Then you shall suffer.'
She is on the floor, naked and spread eagled, her wrists and ankles bound to nails in the hardwood.
Schreck crouches beside her. 'See my little friends?' He holds ajar in his hand. 'Yes, they are spiders. Three dozen spiders. Do you like spiders, my little witch?'
'Please, don't.'
He slowly unscrews the lid. 'Tell me what I need to know, and I shall spare you the discomfort.'
'I don't know
'I have a strict rule: I don't get involved with people who work for me.'
'What?' she asked, feeling heat rush to her face.
'I don't want this to end when we walk out of here.'
'Oh.' She grinned. 'Neither do I.'
SCREAM GEMS PRESENTS OTTO SCHRECK
in
SCHRECK THE INQUISITOR
She is strapped to a chair in the center of a bare room, squinting into the brilliant light as if trying to see who is behind it.
Her young face is frightened.
'Who's there?' she asks. 'Please, I know someone's there. Who are you? What do you want with me?'
'I am the Grand Inquisitor. I wish to ask you a few questions.'
She groans. 'Please, what's going on?'
'You have information I need.'
'Who are you?'
He steps from behind the light. He wears a black, hooded robe.
'Oh Jesus.'
'Take not the name of the Lord in vain, heretic.'
She cranes her neck, trying to look past him. 'Ted, are you here someplace? Ted? Is this some kind of…'
'Who is this Ted? One of your heretic friends?'
'What's this heretic stuff?'
'Tell me about the Coven.'
'Oh God…'
His hand flashes out. It smacks her cheek, the heavy blow knocking her head to the side. She begins to cry. 'Tears will do you no good, witch.' Grabbing her hair, he jerks her head backwards. 'Tell me about the Coven.'
'What Coven?' she cries out, her voice shrill.
'Ah, you will play your games.' He raises a handful of her long, black hair. 'Do you wish to lose your precious hair?'
'No!'
He removes shears from his robe pocket. 'The names, then, of those in your Coven.'
'I don't know anything about a Coven.'
She screams, as if in pain, when he cuts through the hair. He cuts close to her scalp, and tosses great handsful into the darkness beyond the small area of light. Though she yells and pleads and flings her head about, he works feverishly and doesn't stop until nothing remains but short, choppy bristle.
Schreck steps back, and nods with approval. 'Are you prepared, now, to give me the information?'
'You bastard!' she shrieks. 'Goddamn you to hell, you goddamn fucking bastard!'
'You dare speak tome of Hell and damnation? You? A sister of the Devil?'
'Fucking pervert!'
A grin curls his lips.
The rage suddenly leaves her face, 'I'm sorry,' she mumbles. 'Please, I'm sorry. I'll do what you want. I'll tell you anything. Just don't hurt me. Please.'
'Tell me the names.'
'John Brown, and…'
'You take me for a fool?'
'No!'
'I could tear off your fingernails. Would you like that?'
'No,' she sobs.
'Perhaps you would prefer me to bum out your eyes, or snip your nipples off.'
She shakes her head, crying softly.
'There are so many ways to make you speak of your hellish brethren: breaking bones, burning holes in your tender flesh, slicing it with a knife, shredding it with a whip, tearing it off inch by inch with my teeth. I've done it all. Crude methods, but effective. What shall we do with you?'
'Let me go,' she pleads. 'I promise. I'll never tell anybody anything.'
'You must tell me something, first.'
'I don't know about any Coven. If I knew, I'd tell you. Honest! I don't know anything about Covens or witches or heretics-'
'Then you shall suffer.'
She is on the floor, naked and spread eagled, her wrists and ankles bound to nails in the hardwood.
Schreck crouches beside her. 'See my little friends?' He holds ajar in his hand. 'Yes, they are spiders. Three dozen spiders. Do you like spiders, my little witch?'
'Please, don't.'
He slowly unscrews the lid. 'Tell me what I need to know, and I shall spare you the discomfort.'
'I don't know
Similar Books
