In the split seconds of darkness, I imagined him towering over me, looking deep into my mind, casting fear there. I could hear the screams of my children running through my throbbing head. I placed my cold hands on my head, trying not to reject the sounds of despair. Why me? I had lived an abandoned life, I had nothing very important, why am I here? Why do I have to watch his family be tortured like this? With every question that appeared in my mind, a pure heart and anguish for the person responsible grew in my once innocent mind. It was my turn. I heard footsteps again, but this time there was more than one person coming. I froze. I looked around the room frantically, looking for a weapon. The room was barren except for the bowl and the glass...that's it, I grabbed the glass, feeling my muscles tear against my weak bones as I did so. I hid the object in my pocket and awaited my fate. The door opened, revealing two figures. One was the same man dressed in his usual stained robes, but the other was a tall, bony man, tattooed scars on his sharp face and earrings adorning his pale face.