On and on like a rat that refused to realise that it was trapped, Barrows kept on pulling a twisting away his restraints. When things fell silent he almost didn't notice, thinking that they'd just gone to get new tools or take a break. At least Barrows could lift his spirits with a wry smirk at his calling their bluff over the brainleaf. He'd just managed to force his nails under the rim of a screw in the underside of his arm chair when the first blow to the back of his head came.

A sharp smack that jolted his chin into his chest and sent the darkness into a blur. A breath didn't even pass before more hits came. Fists and batons knocking lights across his vision and battering his body. Barrows let out a bestial snarl through his blooded teeth, a mixture of pain and raging frustration. Cursing these cowardly bastards the whole while. It was during this nasty downpour of abuse that he saw a dark blob flying at his face. Call it training or instinct that lead Barrows to thrust his head forward, presenting his forehead to the oncoming fist. It hurt like all hell but the upside was that hitting the hardest part of his skull made his interrogator's knuckle pop in a way that sounded bloody painful. Barrows didn't get to enjoy their cries of pain, his own drowned it out under the maul shock blasted him out of consciousness.

Barrows couldn't say how long he was out. Just that he came to with the same flailing anger that'd defined his day, and that he was tied up again. He fell about and groaned as he came back to his senses and tried to get to grips with the awkward position they'd left him in. There were voices around him now, not the ones that had been asking him questions earlier. They sounded as confused as he was.

"What in the eye bleeding hell is going on here?" The Catachan snarled, tasting stale blood in his mouth. He'd lost another tooth during that last beating... and going by the pain in his chest they'd broken a rib or too as well, never mind his nose.