CRACK CRICK CRACK
Deep lines etched between Hunter and Deborah's brows. Besides their labored breaths, the sound of crumpling plastic reverberated in their ears.
"What's that?" she whispered, about to look up when the door was abruptly kicked open.
"Good day, Traitors!" A contemptuous voice seized Hunter and Deborah's attention.
The two peered down, spotting a towering man by the door. Despite the light casting shadows on their faces, the glint of their eyes in bright red was enough for the captives to anticipate another round of torture.
This was the fate of traitors: a cycle of torment that sought not to end lives but to shatter spirits until all will to resist faded away.
The clatter of metal echoed through the torture chamber as the newcomer dragged in a massive chain.
