MABEL
A snarl rippled through her again, and she fought her tethers once more. A series of thrashing endeavors began, even if they were all for naught – fighting her bindings, the methods yearning to be utilized, the cruelty in the wicked fallacies beginning to reach a point. She couldn’t even look as her fingertips were ceased and taken; no pain, no agony, not yet. But she’d hiss and sneer, and would make it no easier for any of the other participants in this hellish game. “Bastards! Pieces of shit!” You'll pay. All of you will.
And only when the torment came over her did her entire body seize, and then simultaneously ripple, shudder, and contort. This was torture in the worst way – because she’d been the one to give away her senses, her notions of what aches were. It seemed to burn her from the inside out, and she shrieked, screeched, screamed, and wailed, vicious and unrelenting. “Stop! I didn’t do anything! We don’t have anything!”
And only when the torment came over her did her entire body seize, and then simultaneously ripple, shudder, and contort. This was torture in the worst way – because she’d been the one to give away her senses, her notions of what aches were. It seemed to burn her from the inside out, and she shrieked, screeched, screamed, and wailed, vicious and unrelenting. “Stop! I didn’t do anything! We don’t have anything!”
Let's go to war to make peace
Let's be cold to create heat
Let's be cold to create heat
