"Eiiiiiiahh... ahhh... graaass!"
Had there ever been a scream so desperate that it came out shallow and broken, as if the person making the sound wanted nothing more than to die?
Truly, he did.
He wished for death.
It was damp here, and the air carried the foul stench of human blood, vomit, urine, and feces.
The stench was one of human despair.
It was here that the faithful were broken, where God had died and the devil ruled. There was no mercy here. There was no god. There was no love.
There was only the desire for release.
It was here that man learned the cruel nature of life and realized that perhaps the goal of all life was death.
A fat man with enormous muscles stood nearby, holding a pair of tongs in his hands. His face was covered by a black mask that reached down to his neck.
His arms were covered in scars.
"Count back in fives," the man said calmly, without even glancing at the man seated on the chair covered in blood.
