Every day, new bodies would be thrown into the pit. All of these corpses were headless.
Sramana was a madman who delighted in the expressions on people's faces as they neared death. He felt that only pain and despair were the most authentic emotions. Smiles stood for hypocrisy.
He would use his long-range control special ability to slowly crush a person's bones and organs, and then he would observe the pained looks on their faces. The looks of pain on those people who knew that they were about to die were so wonderful. There was still that tiny shred of hope in their eyes, but their minds had already given up.
Sramana could observe such faces for an entire day, seeking that moment of maximum pain.
Plush!
The blade would sweep across the neck of the tormented soul, blood would gush out, and the body would swiftly crumple to the ground and slowly stiffen.
