A gloved hand grasped her hair and yanked her head back. The scissors moved greedily across her head. She felt the strands of hair fall away. To finish, the hand continued to keep her head back by pressing against her face. She struggled to breathe.
The hand withdrew, leaving her hanging as the guards sneered. She focused on keeping her eyes shut as coarse gloved hands moved across her body.
“Such a shame,” one guard said.
She was slapped lightly on the check. Opening her eyes, she saw the Watchman kneeling down to look at her. “You are fortunate to have Captain Nabilak’s favor.”
“For now,” one guard muttered.
“Will there be enough left to satisfy him once we’re through?” another said, chuckling.
“There may.” The Watchman moved away. “Or there may not.”
43-1-12 felt herself passing
