A blood-curdling scream is heard from the basement. Mark is now in the worst pain of his life.
"Please, God, save me," he thought.
His left arm went completely numb, and he lost all feeling. His tendon was severely damaged by the wrench. Blade wasn't done yet.
"It's time for some more, Mark," he said with a slow, methodical tone, "I want your death to be slow and painful."
"Why… why are you doing this to me?"
"Because. You do so much good for the world. Donating to charities. Telling your fans to do good. I envy you."
Blade slaps mark across the face. Little did mark notice, he had a small razor attached to one of his fingers. His right cheek started bleeding profusely. Mark yells out and grunts afterwards.
"You have so little faith in the power of good," Mark retaliates, "you are afraid of peace, love and unity."
"No I'm not!"
Blade turns the razor around in his fist and punches his side. The pain is excruciating. Mark fears of passing out, but the potential of turning this guy's life around kept him awake. Blade rounds up for another shot.
"WAIT!" Mark shouts.