Sylvia felt as if her eyes were burning from the tiredness. They demanded her to shut them close, blood almost seeping from her eyes.
However, with great difficulty she propped them wide open, trying her best to watch the old man in front of her.
Why does he keep calling me a beast? Her mind wandered, too fatigued to even finish the thought. The insides of her brain were just as blurry as her vision.
She saw the wrinkled face which had an obscene smile on it and weakly blinked as the face came closer and closer to her, walking towards her.
But just when he was near her, she saw the face suddenly move to her right and a pair of wrinkly old hands reach forward to grab something.
Was he grabbing me? Sylvia did not even have any feeling in her body, other than the soul-crushing pain from the shackles which was ripping her apart.
She saw the man's hands come back again and as her face subconsciously frowned she saw a thick blond lock of hair.
