Chapter 8: The Sadist
"This is getting exhausting... even for me." Her voice was tired—more irritated than angry. "Tell me what I want to know, and I promise, I’ll kill you in the next instant."
I didn’t lift my head. Didn’t even twitch. Just kept staring at the floor, eyes hollow.
Silence.
How long had it been? Ten days? More? I’d lost count. I couldn’t speak anymore. She hadn’t even noticed. One of her toxins—one of the many—must’ve burned through my windpipe.
Heh.
"Silent again?" she asked. "Oh, I see. You think just because you’ve adapted to this level of pain... this is all there is?"
I said nothing. There was nothing to say.
She wore that ridiculous black witch’s hat, with two strands of pink hair framing her face—bangs that would’ve made her look almost angelic if not for the madness in her eyes. If I’d met her under different circumstances, I might’ve thought she was beautiful.
But not anymore. Not after what she’d done.
She sighed, annoyed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I should be with Auston right now. But no, you make me come back here every single day. And now look."
She took a step back, her wand rising like a judge’s gavel. "Final chance, Azalea. I don’t want to go to the extreme. I’m not heartless. But if you force my hand..."