His gaze glowed.
His arm sailed down.
The mallet became a black boulder of agony.
“This is going to hurt.”
Chapter Sixteen
Nila
THE MALLET SOARED downward.
No!
The whistle of wind heralded imminent agony.
Please!
The small cry was my soul escaping.
Don’t!
The silent scream from Jethro was my undoing.
* * *
The crack of impact.
Pain.
The loud splinter of skeleton giving way.
Torture.
The wave of sickness as mallet defeated bone.
Torment.
The cloud of unconsciousness that numbed everything.
* * *
The room spun and tilted.
I’m crippled.
The agony swelled and crested.
I’m mutilated.
The mallet left my burning broken bone, resting innocuously beside my wrist like a fallen executioner.
I’m in pieces.
I’m in splinters.
I’m broken.
