Hostel ity

a peel of laughter rings out from inside the walls of the heart, the laughter echoes rebounding, as the strands are pulled apart. a scrape of metal on metal sends vibrations through the walls, sliding the scissorblade slices, and silently each lock falls. a hushing of finger on blood on scalp pushes shivers down a spine, white and soft it strips away, breeze and nerve-tips intertwine. a hastened intake of acrid breath reveals bitter fear and shock in the eyes, blood seeps down from scalp to gag, inside the terrified subject cries. a wimper of pain is released behind wracking the captive once more; crimson glove and blood-caked blade in hand, the Torturer slumps to the floor. now only false breath of the Prisoner is heard through these deserted and desolate halls; chained to a chair with the captor dead, he slowly starves within concrete walls.