Thena looked down at her blueprints. Drawn quickly on scraps of paper, the lines were fierce, the labels screaming with pain.

The contraption depicted was torturous and unpredictable, but it would suffice. Her intent for its purpose was simple, but the entailed functions were nigh impossible at best. But it would work for her.

She assembled the metal rods, spikes and frame of the machine. There would be little material to it, as she was no seamstress. But comfort was of no import, she just needed it to work.

She examined the finished product, ensuring that everything was as it should be. There was no undoing or redoing once she took the next step.

She fit herself into the machine and screamed.