The ally was dark, cold and empty. It didn't matter that I screamed, it didn't matter that we made as much noise as humanly possible. No one could hear, and that was the scariest thing of all.
Not the guy that was holding me against my will.
Not the fact that I was going to die a bloody and torture filled death. In all honesty, I wasn't a bit scared of dying. I was fascinated by the way my body could twist in torment. I felt the way my spine was ripped from my back, I heard the way each of my bones were smashed and turned to ash, I saw the way my blood flowed from me, and I felt the way he raped my dying body. But, with all this going on, I was fascinated other than terrified. Sure, I felt a burning and indescribable pain, but, on some level, I didn't want it to stop. I was enticed by the way my screams we're louder than a stage stereo and intrigued by the way my body could twist.
Then, everything went black and my life was over.
Well, humanly anyway.