by Will Stanton » Thu Oct 29, 2015 9:53 pm
"There is no HIM to hurt."
The monitors flickered to life, showing...well, disturbing scenes, to say the least.
Will was being...twisted, shaken and sliced and diced. On various screens, he was being held to candlepoint and melted, thrown and slammed against walls, or trapped in progressively shrinking containers. He was dancing and twirling, very much against his own control if the look on his face was any indicator. He was being boiled in a pot, affixed to the baring of a car as it sped off, and trod upon as people entered a fancy party of some sort.
Every so often, in the background of some of the screens, Miriam would see just the quickest flashes of a very familiar face.