Meanwhile, the worst day of Mark's life was unfolding right before his eyes. A cart full of inhumane looking tools was rolled up right beside him. He was staring at his own doom, and his breathing rate increased.
"Which one of these should we start with," Blade teased as he felt up the numerous knives, hammers, and wrenches.
Mark turned his head away from the cart, refusing to look at what is going to kill him. Sweat rolled down his face and combined with the dirt and blood on his body. Blade grabbed his hair and turned his head to look at the tools and caressed his jawline. Mark winced at the tug and the nasty touch.
"I think we'll start with this one. My personal favorite."
Blade grabbed a wrench and put Mark's neck in his arm to hold him still. He positions the wrench on Mark's left shoulder tendon, tightens it, and begins to pull. Mark fulling opens his mouth and lets out a huge screech. It hurt like a bitch. After was seemed like an eternity, Blade released the wrench from his shoulder. Mark starts to tear up; his body already hurt. This was a huge insult to injury. Blade let him rest, for it will be a long night, and he intends on making it one for Mark.
"What did I do? Help me… please," he pleads in his mind.