She screamed and thrashed, her hands raw and bloody, nails cracked from her attempts to escape. She could feel the bugs crawling, chewing through her skin, eating her alive. Her voice was raw, hoarse from shouting, pleading for anyone to help her, save her. Would no one come? Did no one care? She screamed again, begged for someone, anyone, to release her from this nightmare

She watched as the body writhed, muscles convulsing rapidly and erratically, a face locked into a blank horror. A mark, imprinted on the upper right arm, pulsed, as if alive, seeming to shift across his skin. She knew what standard magical traps where, studied them. Even dark magic had known limits. This was something else. It was another kind of Dark.