He imagines that her body aches. The chain around her waist and crotch is tight and it is pressing on her exposed labial lips. He imagines pulling on it, and the cry that would elicit.

Her hair covers her mouth, she spits it away.

She struggles to move her body which only pulls the chains tighter, biting into her skin, pulling on her limbs. The reality of being so tightly bound on the dirty floor seems to be manifesting itself in her jerking movements.

She has never seen a torture chamber, she has heard about them, second or third hand. Those sent to dungeons rarely come out alive unless they're on their way to the stake to be burned.

She had seen the burning of the wretched heretics a few times.

Red Feline moves her head back, as far as she can, attracted by the crackling noise of a fire. Her eyes catch a glimpse of a long wooden rack, with burning coals underneath.

She feels the heat from it from where she lies twisted on the floor. She is filled with fear at the sight.

On a post in front of her she sees a metal tourniquet.

She recognizes it because she saw one once in the main square, when a confessed witch was executed, before her body was cast to the flames.

Red Feline turns again and sees a white figure crouched near a post, she is dressed in a white garment, a shift with billowing sleeves, like the ones used by nuns under their habits.

The woman's wrists are bound together in shackles, her head shaved.

She is silent, as if in prayer.

Red Feline sees a man standing in front of the nun, fiddling with something in his hands, burly, ugly, scary.

She feels suddenly cold as she realizes she is completely in his power. He will do terrible things to her.

All she can tell is that his steps are threatening.

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, she sees his hairy hands reaching as he bends over her with determination...