Vetta was tired. Both physically, mentally and emotionally.

　　Memories assailed her and threatened to eat her alive. These memories she's been running from.

　　All those nights she screamed right here in this dungeon, it was her running away from those memories.

　　And now, she can no longer run. They filled her head.

　　Ràpe after rápe. Beatings after beatings. The killings... Her legs so shredded and briused, she was a huge limp for months. Guards making fun of her...

　　"The Whóre Slave! It's her, it's the whóre again." Laughters. "Whóre, whóre, whóre."

　　She closed her ears with trembling hands. Why can't she stop hearing their voices?

　　"You will kill him off!...