"No, no!" screamed Bert. "I will die before I tell anyone."
"Yes," grinned the madman maliciously. "You will die one of the most horrible deaths imaginable! It will soon be too late. Will you tell, or will you die?"
"I cannot and will not betray my country!"
"Then follow me!"
Bert followed. He could do nothing else, as he was being led by a length of barbed wire, the end of which was wrapped around his neck.
Not long after, he was sitting in a small room.
"Ha, ha! They don't call me The Torturer for nothing. Are you all ready to die in agony?"
Bert did not answer. He just sat, worn out by the week of torture that he had endured. It would be better when he was dead, he told himself. At least the secret would be safe, the secret that would win the war for his country. If he told it, his country would be doomed to defeat. He tried his best to forget what he knew. He was afraid that he might blurt it out just before the end.
The Torturer had turned around and was taking some small cans out of a cupboard. He scooped something out of one with a spoon. "Here!" he said, almost pleasantly. "Have some honey. Don't worry! It isn't poisoned. You wonˇ¦t get away that easily!"
Hesitantly, Bert opened his mouth to receive the spoon of golden honey. He couldn't help thinking how delicious it was, particularly after existing on dry bread and water for a week.
"That's not all you're going to get, my friend. Here's a little more for you. Hold him, Clarence!"
"Duh! Yeah, boss!" said the ape-like man behind Bert's chair.
Clarence held Bert's head, the right side turned upwards, while the other fiend tipped the can of honey. Slowly it oozed out, dripping down into the right ear, gradually filling it up. Then it was sealed, and Bert sat there, hearing with only one ear, feeling the other one filled with sticky, gooey honey.
"What are you doing to me, you monster?"
"You'll find out, honey-head!" said The Torturer, taking the lid of another can. "In this container I have some pets of mine. Unfortunately they haven't been fed lately. You know their favourite diet happens to be honey. What a pity I just emptied it all into your ear! Lovely, aren't they?"
Bert looked into the can, half full of vicious, hungry-looking ants.
"These creatures will do anything to get honey! Hold him tight now, Clarence!"
"Why, you inhuman fiend!" yelled Bert, as he felt his head turned again, this time with the left ear upwards.
"Heh, heh!" said the mad man. "Anything to get homey. Hang on while I get the sealer, Clarence! Mustn't let any of them escape."
Bert didn't hear any more, as both his ears were sealed, one filled with honey, the other with hungry, honey-eating ants. His hands and legs were tied down. If he could he would kill himself, but all he could do was scream.
"Come, Clarence," said The Torturer. "Our inconsiderate friend is having a tantrum. Let us go before he deafens us."
And they left him to die in unspeakable agony.