When I wake up, I feel a large amount of pain awaken along with me. Groaning softly, I force my senses to work again. That is, until I realize that even if I have my eyes open, all I see is black. I curse mentally, guessing that someone has tied a blindfold over my eyes. I will myself not to move my eyebrows to find out whether the teal jewel is still there or not. Hoping that no one has found that I've stirred awake, I try to move my fingers and only come to the conclusion that someone's tied my arms as well. The soreness in my wrists and the hard surface I'm sitting on tells me that I'm in a chair and my wrists are tied to the arms of the chair.

I immediately wonder where Laurel is if I'm in here. I ponder whether she woke up fast enough and ran away until I hear soft whimpering only a few feet away from me. I exhale sharply when the blindfold falls off of my face and in my lap, exposing me to a pale-faced, doe eyed Laurel looking back at me. I press my lips together to silently tell her to not make noise. She luckily takes the hint.

Fortunately, I hear no one else around us.

Unfortunately, that makes the pain and shock worse when I feel something sharp and red-hot cut along the side of my left arm. I bite my tongue from screaming and taste the saltiness of my blood since I bit down too hard.

Laurel, however, screams.

I then glance down to see a swollen red scar lining the same area I'd felt the unbearable pain a few second before. And when I look up, I find myself staring into a pair of green eyes.

Yet I can't make heads or tails of it. I feel it in a part of my mind, but my mind refuses to cooperate with me.

The man smirks slightly, his brown hair hanging in front of his face as he backs up. He then grabs a small sword and holds it over a fire pit as if he's roasting marshmallows.

Then I see that the man only has one arm. His right sleeve hangs lifelessly to his side. And it takes all of my willpower to not show my surprise in any way. Instead, I keep my face neutral as my heart begins to race in sync with the stinging pain of my arm.

But I end up letting a shriek of pain as he drags the hot blade around in a circle around my wrist. My eyes involuntarily tearing up, I see Laurel struggle against her ropes. She screams, tears falling down in streams. "Sophie..!" Laurel sobs, looking at me before closing her eyes tightly. She then sobs more as she thrashes against her bonds.

I open my mouth to say something, but he then cuts a line diagonally across my neck, curving the same way my neck does. I feel like I'm internally bleeding and like my skin is painfully stitching itself back together.

Only then do I realize that the heat cauterizes wherever he decides to cut me.

He then crouches down to meet my gaze. Carelessly waving the warmed knife in front of my face, he says, "Do you know David Grahams?"

I swallow painfully. "W- who..? I've only heard of Michelle Barrera on the news."

His face twists in anger. "Don't you lie to me..! I know for a fact that his death was on the news two days after?"

I widen my eyes in panic. They did? I think to myself. I then mentally facepalm myself. I wasn't at home anymore. Mr. Wallace took me away before I could. So I just press my lips in silence.

He grits his teeth in anger as he recklessly slashes my cheek, more pain blossoming. Since the cut didn't cauterize fully, I still feel some blood trailing down my cheek. I finally say, "I wasn't able to check the news for that. I only saw the live report of Michelle." Instead of talking about Mr. Wallace, I add, "You haven't told me who he is."

He then proceeds to cut/cauterize my other arm, ignoring my screams and Laurel's sobs.

He pauses a few cuts later. "I know that you're wondering why I'm not torturing your friend over there," he says, pointing at Laurel. My eyes widen when he steps towards her. "But I won't touch her. You know why?"

I can't help but shake my head.

"Because for her, this right here is torture enough."

After endless minutes of agonizing pain, he stops to heat his knife up for another time. My tears have dried up against my cheeks as Laurel's outcries sound like they're in another room.

My voice now faded to obscurity, my eyes absentmindedly glaze over as he nears me. "You know, you can just say everything you know about him," he says, waving the heated knife around my face. I bite my lip wearily when he cuts across my nose too quickly, allowing blood to seep through the partially cauterized scar. Laurel doesn't scream at every cut- just sobs weakly since her voice also faded.

He narrows his eyes at me. "So that's how you'll play it, huh?" he asks. "Through silence?"

No, I think to myself. But I can see why you think that.

And as more and more scars appear on my arms, neck, and face, I realize I can't do anything.

So I'm forced to take the pain.