This is a more descriptive version of the scene. It moves at a slower pace and the character’s voice is stronger. I still think the scene needs more work.
“Lies, lies, and more damn lies,” said Agent Parker from the Bureau of Demon Affairs. “That’s all you’re going to get from these damn things. They don’t know anything else. You think you’re getting the truth, but no, another goddamned lie.” He paced a few steps towards me as he finished his lecture to the five police officers. Lying shackled on the dusty, concrete floor, I had a very good view of the gum stuck to the bottom of his shoes.
He stepped over me and stumbled over my prone and shackled form, one foot catching the side of my face – hard. The impact brought tears to my eyes. Ouch, that hurt. Agent Parker turned and glanced down at me with his cold, blue eyes. His gaze moved up to the crowded jars of herbs on the shelves, and over to the small table covered with beakers and flasks.
“Look at these poisons and shit, there’s no way the bastard is only making booze. Take it down.” Parker nodded to the policeman holding a sledgehammer.
Crack, crack, crack went the sledgehammer as it crushed my beautifully crafted distiller, bashing in the boiler I had spent weeks building. The loud sounds rang through the small, crowded outbuilding. Shit. I knew I should have hidden my distiller better. How did they know? And what was Anina going to do when her medicine ran out? What about the others?
I only became aware of the hissing groan I made when everyone in the old shed stopped what they were doing. They were all silently staring at me. I slowly rolled over, shakily backed against the doorway and pushed myself up. Sore muscles protested as I slowly, painfully gained my feet.
Two police officers quickly pulled their guns out. Were their hands shaking? Did my eyes change color? Please don’t kill my body, I begged silently. I suddenly felt the urge to wrap myself in a comforting cocoon of higher dimensionality, fading from sight to a place where no one could reach me.
Unfortunately, I had had no time to hide when the police rudely barged in an hour before. Parker’s first order of business had been to slap magnetic hand and ankle shackles on me – and a strong magnetic collar. To keep me from manipulating their minds – typical daemon behavior. The shackles also prevented me from instinctively fading out – not typical daemon behavior.
“Relax, everyone,” Parker said. “It’s in no shape to cause any trouble at all. Right, Azel?”
“Yes,” I answered slowly, warily. The officers holstered their service revolvers. Their disapproving stares showed their distrust and contempt for me.
I had heard from others in the community that Agent Parker was a real bastard. The ass kicking I had received a half an hour ago showed Parker was not in the best of moods today. But – I knew how to play the game. After a few punches, I had given up my distiller. They would have found it anyway.
Unfortunately for the both of us, lies were all he was going to get from me today.
“Good.” Parker said. “You’re coming to the station to answer my questions. I want to know what the hell you’ve been making here. Eventually, you’ll tell me.” I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up in alarm. He grinned, seeing the flash of dread in my eyes.