A feeble and disheveled man, bound in shackles, limped with every agonizing crawl as he was being dragged by a berserker.
The sickening sounds of whips mercilessly slapping against flesh, tearing it from bone, reverberates with a gut-wrenching intensity.
But surprisingly, this man had even lost the will to scream in pain. He was dragged like a dog through a small gate beneath the arena, into the limelight.
Tentacles, lined with thousands of suckers, latched around the waists of both Alistair and Willow. They clamped onto each other in a death grip, but it was no match for the surprising force, that tagged them apart.
Arms flailing for help, she was lifted towards Thragrak, who took hold of her, wove a rocky cage which was held together by ichor and stored her into it, like livestock.
'Shit! Shit! Shit! I broke concentration for a moment, and he goes and takes her!' Alistair thought. 'Do something, lotus…' He demanded, but there was no reply.
