"One more stitch," I laugh with a wide smile. She can no longer cry or scream--seems to me her throat is just too raw to continue. I pull at the needle, giving it a faint tug as it passed through her flesh. Running a finger over the thread holding her lips together, the smile fades, and I put a finger to my lips. "Hm... Something is missing," I mutter, frowning as she glared up at me, her eyes hard and brave. "I'm not sure what..." Turning on a heel, I stared across the room at the door hanging on its hinges, the wood rotting away around it. I twisted my head to stare back at her, finally looking exhausted and in pain. Your body just can't take it, I'm afraid. She began to struggle, a jerk of her body, only once. When she realized it wouldn't help against the leather straps holding her down, she leaned her head back down onto the table and lay still. "This is only the beginning," I whispered loud enough for her to hear. And it was.