Your Average Interrogation...
Caitlyn sighed heavily and groaned. Now she’d have to go through so much work to interrogate her. She couldn’t bring her to the station, or else she may start telling everyone about her secret. Dropping the woman to the floor, she stopped to think what she could do. After deciding to take her up to her own house, she handcuffed her wrists and put her on her shoulders. When Caitlyn got to her house, she got some rope and tied the woman upright onto a chair and waited in front of her to wake up. She decided to take a small look at her face. She certainly was attractive in a dangerous way. It was a shame she’d have to kill her later.
When Mukuro woke up, she tried her best not to change her position. Her awakening would be synonymous with the start of any torture or interrogation that Caitlyn had planned. Eyes still closed and breathing softly as if she were sleeping, she attempted to assess the situation.
Her arms chafed with the rope binding, the familiar feel of rope burn digging into her elbows. She shifted her body in a manner that would emulate a throe of rough sleep. Her ankle hits the wooden leg of the chair, causing her face to bend slightly in pain. The circumstances were too crude for Piltover. Restraints would probably be stronger and less centralised on her torso. A wave of relief went through her body at the fact she wasn’t in a Piltover police station.
Only to be interrupted by the sudden realization that now she was alone with her assailant. Her hands tighten subconsciously, now hoping Caitlyn didn’t notice anything.
