And it waits for you!

“Look, ill pay you whatever you want, just please let me go! Please!”

“That’s funny. Do you really think I’d be doing this for free, if I was worried about money?”

She kneels down in front of Sam, taking off one of her shoes and socks, holding the knife above her toes.

            “Now which one do you want to go first?”

            “None of them, just please don’t fucking do it!”

            “Either you pick, or I will. I doesn’t really make a difference to me.

            “Fuck! Fine, the little one!”

As soon as Sam answers, the tattooed woman holds her knife in place and stomps it down with her huge, heavy boots. Blood immediately streams out and pools on the ground. Sam tries to scream in pain, but is stopped by the shock collar.

            “Uh-oh… oops… my bad. I cut the wrong toe… I thought you said the big one.” She had the same smile on her face that’s been there since she hung up the phone with Shane.

            “You-Sick-Fuck!” Sam yells, but after every word she’s shocked by the collar. Jaycee laughs at het as she grabs the poker, lighting the blow torch and heating the sharp end. After the end begins to glow bright red, she presses it against Sam’s wound. The smell of blood and burning flesh envelops the room along with the sound of skin blistering and swelling and burning and popping. As soon as she begins to pull away and stand up, a warm, thick liquid falls onto her head, covering it and sliding down and dripping down her stomach and thighs. Jaycee stands up in shock, looking down at her clothes.  Without saying anything, the tattooed woman lights the blowtorch up again, turning it bright red.

            “No, no Please don’t…” Sam tries to plea, but is cut off by vomit erupting from her mouth and a constant shock from the collar.”

The torturer holds the poker up to her victims face and grabs her by the hair, forcing her head to stay still. Sam shits her eyes tight as she watches the poker come closer and closer to her face. Jaycee shoves the tip of the poker there Sam’s closed eye. The poker singes through her eyelid and bursts through her eyeball. Her eyeball begins to sizzle and whither as a thick white liquid seeps from the wound, dripping down her face. The tattooed woman pulls the poker out, placing it along with everything else she brought, back in the duffle bag.