Torture

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Frisk struggled as they bound her to the bed.

"Hold her feet!"

"Get her wrists!"

A wicked chuckle rang through the room, Frisk and the men falling silent. "Look who we have here."

The teenager stared up at G, wearing a smirk. "Are you gonna kill me, Mr. G?" She asked bravely.

"Kill you? Frisk, Frisk, Frisk, I'm not gonna kill you." The skeleton said, patting her cheek. Frisk resisted a yelp when he suddenly yanked on a piece of her hair. "I'm just gonna hurt you, really, really bad."

"Well, I can take it." Frisk said bravely.

G chuckled, pulling a piece of leather out of somewhere. The thirteen year old opened her mouth and bit into the leather. She closed her eyes at the sound of the pulsers whirring.

Then they came down on her temples and Frisk screamed.

~'~'~

G stopped when Frisk stopped screaming, stopped moving.

"Is she dead?" He asked.

One of his men hurried to the machine checking Frisk's heart rate. The line across the screen had gone flat. He nervously licked his suddenly dry scales. "She's dead boss." He called.

When he turned, G was standing right in front of him. His left eye was spitting gold fire. "What do you mean?!"

The two men froze at the changing sound of the machine. It was now showing a heart rate, much faster than before the process.

An insane giggle rang out.

G turned to see Frisk, wide awake. She smiled at him through the gag.

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