The team employed the use of Nightshade to get the information they wanted from their captive. Her techniques were a bit unorthodox and she wasn’t the least bit hesitant to do the ‘necessary’ in order to extract what they needed. Everything was going so well, she was a marvel to watch and, well, she always smelled so nice.
That was, until she came face to face with her nemesis. Nothing they tried had worked, so they sent in Nightshade. For hours she plied her trade to his will, and for hours he resisted, until finally she collapsed, dead.
“What happened?” Asked the general.
“Apparently she had a bit too much of him.” Said the scientist as he slide the dossier across the table to him. There at the top, in bright green letters was his name, “Howard Everett Marcus Locke.”
Filed under: Micro Fiction Tagged: MFtS
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