The room was cloaked in an eerie silence, disturbed only by the faint sound of Bella's trembling breaths, her body bound with cruel tightness to a chair of unyielding oak. Her heart pounded a frantic tattoo against her ribs, a symphony of fear and anticipation that echoed in the hollows of her chest. Her eyes, wide and filled with terror, followed the figure of Fiona as she approached, her gloved hands cradling a gleaming set of steel tools that promised nothing but pain.
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The weight of her intentions hung heavy in the air, suffocating any glimmer of hope that Bella might cling to.
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Fiona's face was a mask of stoicism, her features as cold and unyielding as the stone walls that surrounded them. Yet beneath this facade, a river of malicious delight flowed, its currents twisting and turning with every step she took. She circled Bella, her movements as deliberate and measured as a predator stalking its prey, the echo of her footsteps a chilling counterpoint to the silence.
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Gently, Fiona ran a finger along the edge of a menacing pair of pliers, their jaws hungry for pain and suffering. Her eyes, glinting with a sadistic glee, locked onto Bella's trembling form, her voice dripping with icy cruelty. "Dear Bella," she purred, her words a venomous lullaby. "Your defiance, your stubborn refusal to bend to my will, has led you here. Did I not warn you, time and time again, of the consequences?"
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Without a moment's hesitation, Fiona leaned in, pressing the cold, unyielding metal of the pliers against Bella's quivering lips. The room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with anticipation. Fiona's grip tightened, a bead of sweat trickling down Bella's pale forehead, her breathing accelerating followed by a scream of agony and a splash staining her torso. Blood dripped onto Bella's chin.
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Immediately after, a familiar feeling of pressure on to the next one, and then, with a swift, brutal motion, Fiona pulled again.
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Bella's muffled screams echoed through the room, her eyes wide with anguish and her body spasming helplessly making the already tightened belts fixing her in place to bite on her skin.
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Fiona, relentless in her pursuit of dominance, remained unyielding. Her hands moved with a surgeon's precision, extracting each tooth, one by one, as if dismantling a puzzle.
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As the ordeal reached its climax, Fiona's expression shifted from sadistic delight to smug satisfaction. She leaned back, surveying her handiwork with a critical eye.
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The chair creaked under the weight of Bella's broken spirit. The once-vibrant girl was now a broken doll gasping for air. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her face a mask of agony and defeat.
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"I hope this serves as a reminder," Fiona said, leaving a glass filled with bloody teeth on the table next to Bella, a gruesome trophy of her victory. "That way you won't have to lose your nails too". With that, she turned on her heels and left the room.
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A sobbing Bella is left alone now painted in red.
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