"Answer the question Gods and Demons have been asking since the dawn of time: Pancakes or waffles," Aurora contorted, stripping the flesh from off the Sniper's arm similarly to how one strips tape off a wall.
The grueling cry that followed had been so horrid it tore at the man's windpipes until it burned.
The stranger was flailing, suspended in the air by two hooks embedded in each arm. The lower half of his body was a bloody mess of throbbing muscles where the flesh had been torn off. There had been so much blood it formed an expanding puddle, seeking to consume Aurora's bare feet.
"It's been three days! Why can't you answer me? Pancakes or Waffles!" Aurora barked, splashing his lower half with an acrid-smelling liquid, embellishing in the hellish scream that shook the dungeon walls.
