You-deserve-this, singsong the voices, in a childish lullaby.
You-are-a-monster, you-killed-his-father, mon-ster.
She can't help but shiver, cold or fear, she doesn't know.
The smell of… fish? Sea? Tickles her nose, and she breathes slowly, in and out.
The last hours have been like this – pain. Pause. Pain. Pause. Pain again.
Pain obliterates everything. The energy runs through her body, and she doesn't have time to think, only to scream – weak, weak, the voices mock her, one of them resembles horridly to her mother's.
During this torture, the worst moment isn't the moment of pain.
The worst, is the wait.
Weak.