"Hmm," he muttered as he looked around again. His hands and legs were tied apart.
"Do you surrender?" he heard the same voice, and the lady appeared before him.
"Your voice is annoying," he replied.
"Enjoy your sixth death, then," she smiled.
His world cleared, and he saw people almost naked, covering only their private parts with animal skins. He was stark naked, tied with his hands and legs apart. Those people were talking in languages he couldn't understand. The noises were disorienting.
After minutes of talking, two of them approached him with knives in their hands. They started carving out a strip of his skin from his left hand, beginning with his fingers. The world slowed down, and his body registered every pain in slow motion. He gritted his teeth as he watched his skin being carved out and stripped. It was then passed around to be roasted in front of him while the people ate it.
He didn't even have time to be irritated because of the pain, which had been magnified tenfold and slowed down, hitting him in waves. His left hand, right hand, chest, and back were stripped of skin, but he still wasn't dying.
"I'm supposed to die," he shouted.
The world paused.
"It's true, but the essence of this sixth death is to make you experience the pain of being skinned alive. If you die halfway, what's the fun in it?" she said, smiling cruelly.
"Bastard," he cursed as it resumed.
His back was stripped of skin, and it got to his legs. His crotch was cut off while his legs remained. He saw himself turn into a skeleton alive as the skin on his legs was stripped off.
It got to a point where he couldn't be bothered to look anymore, as all his senses had been dulled and the pain had been magnified.
"Let me just die," he thought in agony. The pain was unbearable.
After a long time, he finally died.
"How was it?" he heard a voice in the dark world as he saw himself in the soul world.
"Why am I not being resurrected in another body?" he asked.
"I just want to know, how is it?" the voice was heard again.
He looked at his hand, then faced down before looking up.
"Sensational," he answered.
"You know you're a fool," the lady's voice was heard again.
"You'll still die in the end, so why not make it easier for yourself?" she asked.
"I can't go down without a fight," he answered.
"You're not even putting up a fight; you're just being beaten up," she said.
"Well, there's no fun in it. Let's go for your seventh death. I want to know how much you can endure before your will is broken," she said.
His world turned dark again and brightened up. He was tied in the same way as before.
He didn't even have time to get used to his environment before "Bang!" a gunshot was heard. The smallest finger on his right hand was crushed.
"Ahh!" he cried out in pain.
"Bang, bang," nine consecutive gunshots were heard, and his remaining nine fingers were crushed.
"Humph," he let out a muffled grunt.
The shooter moved on to his toes, and the ten were broken again. The gunshots were heard as every part of his body, except the important parts, were riddled with holes from bullets.
"Hmm," he gasped for breath as he couldn't hear the gunshots anymore.
"One hundred and ninety-nine times," the number of times he had been shot.
Time was in slow motion, and his pain had been magnified tenfold. He was left there, with pain hitting him in waves, trying to break his will. Every second was used to fight the pain and prevent his will from crumbling.
His vision turned blurry, but his pain sense had been magnified. Finally, after a long time, he succumbed to blood loss.
His vision brightened again.
"Congrats, you're one of the rare souls to make it past the sixth death," she said.
"I have good news and bad news for you," she said.
"Which one do you want to hear first?" she asked.
"The good news," he answered.
"You won't be erased again," she said.
"Oh," he nodded apathetically.
"Aren't you happy? This is what you've been hoping for," she asked.
"What will be my fate, then?" he asked.
"You're not even fun to be with," she pouted.
"You'll be nailed to the gate of eternal damnation to be tortured forever with soul-tearing nails," she said.
"Another lifetime of torture, then," he said.
"Do you surrender, then?" she asked.
"I won't surrender," he answered.
"Then, to your eighth death," she said.
His vision brightened up, and the first thing he saw was the reflection that almost blinded his eyes. His eyes finally adjusted, and he looked at where he was - a golden cauldron.
"Bang!" A sound was heard, and the cauldron was closed. Everything turned dark.
"What's going to happen now?" he thought as he looked around. He was soon covered in sweat.
"Hmm," he frowned. It's being heated.
"Great, I'll be cooked alive in a sea of gold and turned into a golden statue," he said.
Blisters formed on his whole body, and the golden cauldron started to melt.
"At least it's an honorable death, dying amidst a sea of gold," he cheered himself up for the next wave of pain that would hit him.
The gold hit his body, melting his skin and fusing with his bones. The strange thing was that his head was not affected.
"That bastard is even tampering with it," he thought while gritting his teeth.
"I'm not afraid of pain again," he said, but his spasming body was saying another thing. He was being hit by waves of pain.
"Ahh," he gasped as he opened his eyes. He couldn't even look around as his body shuddered.
The eighth death was the most violent death. He felt his skin melting and hot gold searing itself onto his skeleton. It was a torturous death.
"Won't you surrender?" The lady appeared in front of him.
"I won't; I'm enjoying it," he said, but his body was shuddering violently, and the body he was in was covered in a layer of sweat.
"I really praise you," she said.
"At the fifth death, the last person already had traces of fear on his face, unsure if he should continue. His will was broken when he experienced the sixth death, crying for himself to be destroyed, but you - every death you go through only strengthens your will. You will make a fine demon, but it's a pity," she shook her head pitifully.
"Time for your ninth death; let me see if you can still be as stubborn. But let me give you a heads up," she said.
"How does it feel if your body is tied to a horse, you're not able to breathe, and you're being dragged across a tarred road?" she asked, looking at him.
"Do you feel fear?" She looked at him for some time to see if she could get a reaction from him, but his face was just as apathetic as before.
"Boring, but let's see if you can still have that will after you experience that torture," she said, and his vision darkened.
His vision brightened again, but the first thing he felt was that he was finding it difficult to breathe. He was tied to a horse.
"Pak!" The horse was beaten.
"Neighhh!" it neighed, raising its front legs up before it took off, dragging the helpless body with it.
At first, Williams grabbed the rope, trying to loosen it so he could breathe, but it was very tight before he was dragged across the road. Pain hit him in waves as time slowed down, making him savor every moment of the pain.
He was dragged across while hitting things with the enraged horse. The pain hit him, and he was unable to breathe. His face turned red as the horse continued to drag him across the street.
"Hmm," he let out a series of muffled groans.
"I'll just pull myself out of this misery," he thought as he tried to bite his tongue, but he was unable.
"Not so fast," he heard a voice.
He was dragged while enduring pain and also while trying to absorb as much oxygen as he could. Time passed; this time, it was far longer than any other death. It continued before it suddenly stopped.
The lady appeared.
"Aren't you going to beg?" she asked.
"How long until I die?" he asked.
"The time for the first eight deaths combined," she answered.
"Oh," he said, exhausted.
"If I leave, you'll have to finish experiencing it; this is the last time I'll be appearing," she said.
"Oh," he nodded.
"Bye, then," she disappeared, and the horse continued dragging him.
The pain was unbearable, but there was nothing he could do. Time passed as the body was tattered beyond recognition before he finally lost consciousness.