He circled around a bright prison of light, his eyes narrowing every time he lay eyes on his prisoner. The poor creature, no experience. In King’s eyes, he was only a child! Ian, restrained in the middle of the bright floodlight, was tense from fear, his eyes darting this way & that, searching for his captor.
King decided to poke some fun at Ian’s expense. Slinking around Ian, he sneered, “And have we broken yet?”
Ian jumped. Fruitlessly peering into the darkness, he called, “I’ll never tell you anything! Never!”
King snickered. “Ah, but I’m sensing weakness.”
“You’re sensing wrong, you fiend.” Such childish words, such empty resistance.
“I thank you for the compliment, but you can’t hide weakness. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell before you hurt yourself.”
“You’ll have to kill me before I’ll tell,” Ian shot, failing to hide his fear in the words.
“Don’t worry, I won’t have to do anything to carry that out,” the fiend hissed, a diabolical smirk spreading uncontrollably over his thin face.