The Tyrant, in his red shirt and the flood of blood around him, took his own sweet time torturing the relatives of the late tailor, who had brought in the previous day.
The chains around their hands and necks had spikes, that pierced right into their skin, drawing their blood like a rivulet that just started to flow from the mountains. The tyrant had to only pull the little string around their wrists, necks and ankles to make them a bloody mess.
I tried to cover my eyes as I screamed to be let go. But my hands were tied behind my back and I was made to watch the sight in front of me. If I closed my eyes for a few seconds, I was lashed on my back.
Pinned rods were inserted into their arms and legs. Their screams echoed every corner of the prison cell and in my entire head as a vision of a bloody battle penetrated my head. The excruciating in my head and heart had started to take place.
