It wasn’t until the cloying scent of incense nearly chokedhim that he realized the pain had faded into a dull throbbing, an ever present caress. He simply screamed until his throat bled. He felt the bruised muscles of his inner thigh shred beneath the blade’s touch, and this time he forced out a scream. ![]() Thankfully, he could no longer feel the fiery kiss of the steel nails holding his wrists and ankles to the wall.Īgony flared again. The joints in his shoulders had long-since popped from the weight of his body, and breathing was difficult. He tried to scream when the forge-heated blade licked across his stomach with its razor tongue, but he managed only a feeble gurgle. This one pulled Kim from sleep with terrible insistence, like a lover who would not be sated. ![]() Series: Greyhawk The Tomb of Horrors Keith Strohm
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