Gilbert's fingers traced along the cold, metallic edges of the implements on the tray, each of which was more brutal than the last. He lifted a small iron branding rod whose tip was designed to leave deep, permanent marks on the flesh. His lips curled into a cruel smirk as he tilted it in the light, examining it thoroughly.
He set the branding rod back down and moved to another tool - a barbed clamp, sharpened and wickedly serrated. "This one here, darling…" he began musing while running his thumb along its cruel, twisted teeth, "it could make for a memorable lesson, wouldn't you agree?"
The girl's face drained of color while her small hands pressed against the cold stone floor as if she could push herself right through it to escape. She whimpered softly with her eyes wide due to sheer horror as he turned each tool over in his hands, contemplating its use with sick fascination.
