On February 29, 1948, Romanian pastor Richard Wurmbrand was arrested on his way to a church service. His 'crimes' were leading Christian worship and witnessing to his faith, both of which were illegal under the Communist regime. He was to spend 14 years in prison, undergoing torture and abuse. His wife Sabina was also imprisoned and brutally treated. This is a second extract from an inspiring new biography.

On a night in 1948 in the Calea Rahovei prison, at 10 pm, three guards burst into Richard's cell and demanded he get dressed. One of the guards named Appel strapped blacked-out goggles over Richard's face and led him through a long corridor to a room containing a table and a spotlighted chair.

As Appel removed the blindfold, Richard squinted into the light. The silhouette of a man across the table came into focus. Seconds later his face materialized, and Richard recognized him as Moravetz, a former police inspector who had recently been promoted to conducting interrogations.

'You'll find paper and pen on that desk,' Moravetz said. Take your chair over and write about your activities and your life.'

Richard complied.

'As a priest,' the inspector continued, 'you've heard any number of confessions. We've brought you here to confess to us.'

For the better part of an hour, Richard scribbled down his story, covering the major milestones of his spiritual biography. Like his interrogators, Richard also had once been an atheist before his heart was changed.

'That's enough for tonight,' Moravetz finally said, confiscating Richard's pencil.

After numerous similar interrogations, Richard soon learned his captors' methods and strategy. Instead of using police tactics that capitalized on the shock of arrest to glean confessions, the Communists preferred a much more patient approach – the prisoner must ripen first. The goal was to create enough guilt and anxiety to extract information gradually. Prisoners were rarely told why they were arrested, which threw them into a state of self-examination and uncertainty. Endless tricks created tension, doubt, and fear in their minds. Fake trials were scheduled and then postponed at the last minute. Firing squads were simulated in the courtyard outside the prisoners' cells. Tape-recorded screams and random shouts were played throughout the night.

After weeks of psychological games, resistance became more challenging. The mind began to break. Exhausted and guilt-ridden, the prisoner made false judgments, and one slip of the tongue became two. Names were given, friends betrayed. Before long, the interrogator had extracted the confidential information he sought.

Just before the mental breakdown, the interrogator switched his attitude and grew sympathetic to the prisoner's plight. Intimidation morphed into mercy. Promises were made to end the suffering, but only if the prisoner admitted guilt and confessed to his crimes.

Several days later, Richard was again retrieved from his cell and taken to a basement where two interrogators waited. Appel reached into his briefcase, removed a piece of toffee, and handed it to Richard.

'What were your connections with Mr Teodorescu?' Appel asked casually.

'Teodorescu? That's a fairly common name. Which one do you mean?'

Appel didn't explain but quickly switched topics, asking questions about the Bible and the prophecies of Isaiah about the Messiah. He acted interested in Richard's perspective, nodding and raising his eyebrows. Then, at random and without warning, Appel inquired about the names of those who assisted Richard in distributing Christian literature to Soviet soldiers. Had they heard about the prophecies of Isaiah? Appel listened politely, more interested in Richard's reactions than his words.

The next interrogator, an insecure little man named Vasilu, was less cordial. 'Write down the names of everyone you know,' he demanded. 'Tell where you met them and what your relations with them were.'

Richard hesitated, careful and selective in the names he listed.

'Don't pick and choose,' Vasilu snapped. 'I said everyone.'

Richard included names of Communist members of parliament and every random traveller he knew. If he accidentally surrendered the names of Christian ministers, their families would be arrested and savagely beaten.

'Question number two is to say what you have done against the state.'

Richard looked into Vasilu's eyes. 'What am I accused of?'

Vasilu slammed his fist on the table. 'You know what you've done! Get it off your chest. Start by telling us about your contacts with your Orthodox colleague Father Grigoriu and what you think of him. Just write, and keep writing!'

Richard reeled off as many chapters from his spiritual biography as the interrogators liked. On other matters, he revealed as little as possible.

Richard was interrogated for weeks with little sleep. At night he calmed his conscience by repeating Scripture verses embedded in his memory.

God also sent small encouragements, like the barber who whispered that Sabina was doing well and was continuing the ministry work. Knowing his wife was okay provided double doses of strength. Richard could endure the interrogations, but the thought of Sabina being questioned and tortured was too much for any husband to bear. If Sabina were arrested, what would happen to their son

Mihai? Countless children had already suffered that fate. He'd be orphaned and forced to live on the streets.

On one evening as he was trying to doze, the sound of a woman's sobbing voice emerged from a nearby cell. 'No, no!' she pleaded. 'Please don't beat me. Not again! I can't take it!' The corridor echoed with shrieks as the guards beat the woman senseless.

Richard listened intently until his eyes widened in horror. It was Sabina's voice! She had been captured and brought to Calea Rahovei. Richard spent the night weeping and crying out to her in the darkness. Could she hear him? What were they doing to her?

Richard later learned that the woman's voice was not Sabina's but only a tape recording that was played for every prisoner, each thinking the sound belonged to his wife, girlfriend, or mother.

* * * * *

The promise Richard had made to Sabina – that he would kill himself before betraying his friends –occupied his mind night after night. He remembered reading about a woman in the early church who had killed herself rather than lose her virginity to the barbarians who pillaged her monastery. If the church had canonised her, God could forgive Richard if his suicide rescued others from being slaughtered.

But the prison had confiscated his shoelaces. His cell was frequently checked for glass shards, cords and razor blades. The doctors gave him one sleeping pill every evening, but the guards always checked Richard's mouth to make sure he had swallowed it. Perhaps if he could hide the pill under his tongue, though, he could amass a small collection. To hide the salvaged pills, Richard stored them in the straw mattress, tearing a few stitches to open it. Within a month, Richard had collected thirty pills – more than enough to make him sleep forever.

Suicide gave Richard power over his adversaries, but the sounds of the city begged him to reconsider: a young girl singing, a tram car squealing around the corner. Richard had dedicated his life to serving God. Was it wise to end it?

The interrogators shined lamps in prisoners' eyes to unsettle them, but God had his own lights too. One evening Richard peered into the midnight sky and saw a single star burning in the blackness. The light of the star had travelled across the whole universe to console him. Perhaps his life could also travel great distances to reach future prisoners suffering for the Saviour. The star begged him to keep living, but Richard was still unsure. Maybe his death would do more good than his life.

The next morning the guards raided his cell and took the straw pallet to another prisoner. Richard's plans for suicide were suddenly thwarted. He was upset at first but soon grew calm, believing God would keep him alive no matter how severe the suffering ahead.

Wurmbrand: Tortured for Christ - The Complete Story is published by David C Cook, price £9.99.