Subject #1

*CRACK*

The long, brown leather whip was cracked against the floor; the frightened young female Killjoy winced at the sound of it, knowing it would be one of the last things she would ever hear.

*CRACK*

This time the whip was closer.

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

*CRACK*

With every crack, the whip got even closer. In fact, it got so close that it tore one of the sleeves of her shirt right off.

Cowering in the corner of the small white room, she couldn't muster the courage to look at her tormentor's pale face with his small grey lips stretched in a sinister smirk. Korse looked down at her, lifting his left hand which held the whip in a tight grasp.

*CRACK*

The girl yelped as the whip lashed against her leg, a bright red line carved in it from the whip. She became nauseous from seeing the blood and had to hold down the vomit that was threatening to spill out of her mouth.

Korse ordered for two Draculoids to hold her in a standing position, with her back facing him. He began to whip again, and every time the whip crashed against her back, the Killjoy would scream out in extreme pain and the whip would split her shirt and her pale skin, revealing the deep red of blood and muscle.

Korse would laugh every time the Killjoy screamed. He enjoyed watching people suffer – better yet – he enjoyed making people suffer.

After what seemed like an eternity of whipping to the poor Killjoy, her cries of pain grew weaker and weaker. This angered Korse and he whipped even harder, but still the Killjoy's screams would not become any louder.

*CRACK*

After the last whip, the Killjoy fell against the wall and slid down, smearing deep, red blood against the pristine white wall. Korse sighed in disappointment that his little toy was so weak. He coiled up the whip, turned on his heel and left the room; leaving the dead Killjoy, facing up, eyes open with a single tear rolling down her pale cheek. The last tear she ever cried…