“Help,” Sam cried, as he tried to scale the glazed surface of his prison, “Can somebody help me?”
Craning his neck, searching, pleading, he saw the jeering face of Abbadon mocking his fruitless efforts, “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
Bending over Sam covered his ears to block the booming laughter, gasping as pain pierced his side; Abbadon’s hand appeared holding what appeared to be a needle. He grasped Sam’s head between his thumb and forefinger. Sam screamed. His head felt as though a hundred thorns were being hammered in. Mercilessly Abbadon dragged the needle across Sam’s back repeatedly as Sam weakened, his cries becoming fear-filled whimpers and sobs.
“Help me, somebody, please.” The pain was unbearable and he choked as his breath ran short. Was there anybody?