#Chapter12

Back in the prison that was the room filled with torture objects, I stay sat on the floor with my back pressed against the cold hard surface of the wall behind me as the shackle around my left ankle digs into my skin, this time, Seven had tightened it to a point that my ankle could barely breathe against the restraint but I knew he was angry and I knew that he was projecting his anger onto me, if I could ease his hurt I would but he wouldn’t allow me the luxury of even getting close enough to him mentally to be able to reason with him and...