Abigail must ruin herself to survive! The darkness has a certain smell to it. The air is damp, musky, stale. Alone! Static emerges from the background filling the gaps. Cold - so very cold. Pain, fullness, light. Screaming. Someone... something is screaming crying - terror. A butchered animal? The screaming, it’s me!
Locked to the floor by a metal device in my ass. A small television hisses. I wake, groggy. How had I gotten here, when, why, who brought me? The television begins to speak. I’m here to entertain. To prove myself. To suffer.
I can do this! I will survive. I will endure. These unseen masters will get their show. I will degrade, defile, and debase myself for them.
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