Chapter 261
The Blood Witch had forgotten her own name.
It had been a long time since she had lost it.
But there was one thing she did remember—when she was young, she had been especially afraid of the dark.
She must have been about ten or eleven years old at the time.
— “Move it! What, just because you twisted your ankle, you think you can sit around? Get over here. Looks like you need a few more hits!”
— Smack!
— “If I catch you sitting down, clutching your leg again, you’ll be hanging for a week!”
Hanging meant exactly that—being tied up and suspended in a solitary cell.
Bound tightly with a rope as thick as a snake, at first, her skin would sting. Then, as the rope dug into her, the pain turned into sharp, throbbing aches. Eventually, her whole body would burn with unbearable heat, until she lost consciousness—again and again.