Entry Number 050603A
I didn't notice myself going to sleep until it was too late. It was so comforting to sleep when noone was there to bother you, when all your work was to look after someone who had no means of escape. The door was bolted shut with three different alarms, it was guarded by a stormtrooper outside and he was locked into the chair with more than one passcode. I would wake up before he could even pick one.
It took at least 4 hours for the poor man to wake up from his Rose induced sleep and to wake me up as well. I stirred in my sleep when I looked up, still hazed and blurry from the nap I took. It took a little for me to adjust but I saw him positively squirming in the binds, making me wake up a little faster when I remembered where I am. He also seemed to see me from his peripheral vision, turning his head to me. I didn't move, just stared at him. He had wide brown eyes, now that I looked at him while he was awake. He hissed a little as he tried to make a coherent sentence, making me sigh and stand up as I knew that I would have to call Rose in when the sensors noticed he was awake.
"Where am I?" He grunted, for the first time in my entire day knowing him.
He had a very deep voice, a raggedy one too that made me think strangely of leather and motor oils. Maybe that's what came with spacers nowadays. I cracked my knuckles, walking around the room and settling to stand by the door so I have close access to the communicator. "You're in the Finalizer." I said, typing in Rose's number already.
"Where's the white harpy? Why did she send you here and not come herself? I have a few words to say to her." He spat, hissing audibly and starting to cough out blood. I stopped by the third digit, smelling the scent of iron in the air. It was thick and heavy on the lungs. "She'll be here soon, I'm calling her now."
"Why, too afraid to take information out yourself?" He said, shuffling his wrists behind the chair. I sighed heavily. He was trying to work his way around the interrogation and make me angry. I continued typing.
"A credit for your thoughts, madam?" He mused, tilting his head to the side. When I looked back, he was smiling capriciously, eyes squinted and button nose flaring gently at the scent of dried blood under it. He looked like a weasel.
It took at least 4 hours for the poor man to wake up from his Rose induced sleep and to wake me up as well. I stirred in my sleep when I looked up, still hazed and blurry from the nap I took. It took a little for me to adjust but I saw him positively squirming in the binds, making me wake up a little faster when I remembered where I am. He also seemed to see me from his peripheral vision, turning his head to me. I didn't move, just stared at him. He had wide brown eyes, now that I looked at him while he was awake. He hissed a little as he tried to make a coherent sentence, making me sigh and stand up as I knew that I would have to call Rose in when the sensors noticed he was awake.
"Where am I?" He grunted, for the first time in my entire day knowing him.
He had a very deep voice, a raggedy one too that made me think strangely of leather and motor oils. Maybe that's what came with spacers nowadays. I cracked my knuckles, walking around the room and settling to stand by the door so I have close access to the communicator. "You're in the Finalizer." I said, typing in Rose's number already.
"Where's the white harpy? Why did she send you here and not come herself? I have a few words to say to her." He spat, hissing audibly and starting to cough out blood. I stopped by the third digit, smelling the scent of iron in the air. It was thick and heavy on the lungs. "She'll be here soon, I'm calling her now."
"Why, too afraid to take information out yourself?" He said, shuffling his wrists behind the chair. I sighed heavily. He was trying to work his way around the interrogation and make me angry. I continued typing.
"A credit for your thoughts, madam?" He mused, tilting his head to the side. When I looked back, he was smiling capriciously, eyes squinted and button nose flaring gently at the scent of dried blood under it. He looked like a weasel.