My heart lurched when I saw hands – long, elegant, with fingers as pale as moonlight – reaching out and clamping onto my brother's throat.
His face twisted in agony. His eyes, usually bright and full of hope, were now wide with terror, his skin turning a sickly white as the grip tightened around his neck. Fear flooded my veins, cold and paralyzing. His life was being squeezed out of him right before my eyes, and I stood there, trapped, unable to do anything but watch.
"Stop!" I screamed, my voice raw with desperation, my fists pounding against the cold, unforgiving glass wall that separated us.
The sound of my desperate plea echoed through the room, but it was lost in the deafening silence of my brother's struggle.
"Heh," a voice chuckled sinisterly.
