****
In a secluded corner of the valley below Goth Mountain, Dooley Simple tried to focus on pain relieving thoughts but the pain was too great and the voice was too loud, the voice of evil, the voice of his tormenter, the thing known to his human prey only as Dark.
“Interesting,” said Dark. “Your resistance to pain is very impressive. It comes not only from so-called magic power, but from strength of character, a truly rare commodity in humans, I have found. Your will is going to crumble though, we both know that. Why prolong the pain? Tell me now what you know and your end will be swift.”
“I hurt,” mumbled Dooley.
Dark laughed, and again slapped Dooley across his already bruised and bloody face. Delicious pain and fear radiated from his tormented victim, further feeding Dark’s evil soul.