It was dark out and that's how she liked it. She loved how the darkness made her blend into the shadows. Her knife was in her pocket but she didn't need it, not today. Today she was going into her basement to torture those repulsive children. They screamed loudly as she tortured them, and that's how she liked it. She started her trip down the rickety stairs to the basement.
The children were in their own separate rooms as usual. In their rooms they were either chained to the wall or chained to the table. They were pleading to be let go, begging to go home to their parents. The parents they didn't know were dead. Some didn't beg to be let go. Instead they begged for death. She would give them their wish. After all, she had a closet just for it.
The closet was musty and dark, the walls covered in spikes. If you were to look closely enough, you would be able to make out the crimson tinting the ends the dark metal. The spikes served their purpose well. The children who wished to die would have their wrists chained to the ceiling. They would hang there, helpless, as the wall slowly moved in, impaling them. If they were still alive after they were impaled, they would drown in the water that would soon flood the room next. After the child was dead, the body was burned, the ashes thrown to the wind. The bloodied water would be used to rejuvenate her body, making her five hundred year old body seem youthful.
The children that disobeyed her had honey and bananas force fed to them. Honey was then spread on their armpits and between their thighs. She would then dump hundreds of insects all over the child and let them eat their way into the child's body and sometimes the insects would nest inside of the unfortunate child. Some lived through this ghastly torture. Some didn't. It didn't matter to her if they did die or not as long as they had suffered intense pain.
The children that obeyed got to eat on time once a week in the room where all the children would be gathered to gawk upon their friends wounds and meet the new victims that would replace the dead ones. There they were fed and sprayed with boiling hot water so they wouldn't stink up the basement with their putrid stench. If she was going to torture them, why smell them? When they were locked up in their own rooms, the good children were whipped across the stomach, their arms, and sometimes their face.
The ones who tried to escape endured the worst torment imaginable, the rat bucket. A bucket of rats was tied around their stomach, then the bottom of the bucket would be set on fire, causing the rats wanting to escape. They would claw their way into the child and then chew their way out the back. These children usually died for none, not even the strongest child, could live through such pain.
Today she had the chance to use that torture. Five year old Annabeth tried to escape during one of the weekly gatherings recently. Annabeth struggled against the chains as she tied the bucket around the girl's stomach and set the bottom of the bucket aflame. She left sastified as she heard the scratches of the rats as they tried to claw their way through the girl's stomach. The girl screamed as she walked out the door.
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