Bab 415: Scarred Hearts

The sounds of a whip falling on bare skin echoed in the room. Although the whip slashed across his skin, no sound came out of his mouth.

Then the scene changed. His body was being used to put out burning cigarettes. His nose was filled with the scent of charred skin.

His skin. The pain was torturous. He could feel the blood fill his mouth from biting so hard on his tongue. He wanted to fight them.

Ask them to stop or fight back. Regrettably, he could do neither. His arms were free yet they felt like they were held down by invisible shackles.

His breath was running short as though he was getting drowned. His voice refused to go past his vocal cords. His tears didn't fall no matter how much he willed them to fall.

Hell! This was worse than hell. No voice to scream. No tears to cry, no hands to fight back and no strength to defend himself.