It was a rainy night as she looked outside at the little puddles forming, she saw visions of people being drowned. Her imagination would run wild sometimes and she would think up different ways to kill the men who murdered her father. It had only been 4 years and the guys were still out there, she thought to herself. Her name, Eleanora Nora for short, or Ellie as her mom called her. She was a nice kid, not your sunny princess kind of girl, but she was a happy one. After the incident she let something grow inside of her the pain, hurt, anger, sadness, hate and sorrow that came with his death she let sit and fester in a part of her heart. It had a cold and dark side now. Her father was her hero and they took him away, worst part was they didn’t pay for their crimes. She would sit there and imagine horrible ways they would die or be killed by her hands. She would just drift into daydreams where she got to execute her dastardly plots. She would get lost in thought. A bullet to the head? No, too quick. She would imagine the perfect scenes in her head. The two men would be tied to chairs with zip ties really tight and set to face each other. She secretly hoped they were siblings so they suffered from the pain they were feeling and the pain of watching their loved ones die before their eyes. She would starve grown rats for 2 days straight and then put them in a box with their feet. When the rats were done eating on their legs, Pull out their fingernails one by one and then nail their hands to the chair. All of this would be done over a period of 3 – 7days. And at night or midday she would walk around shining a torch or making some noise to give the impression someone was around. When they called out for help in anticipation. She would walk away or come in and dash their hopes. She poured alcohol then salt on all their wounds each time she finished. Then peeled of the covered scab the next day. Nora constructed a device that kept them awake at night by hammering on their feet at 30min intervals and stabbed their fingers every 15mins. When she taught her plans could go for more than a day she would add a menu, meals twice a day. Brunch would be a moldy sandwich with curdled milk and moldy cheese. If they didn’t eat she would force it down their throats. Supper could be anything from a thin slice of nicely cooked ribs 1head of broccoli and 10tablespoons of juice. To one spoon of mashed potatoes and an unsavoury chocolate cake made with a hint of animal dung and drizzled in curdled milk. She needed them alive to enjoy the great plans she had made. Pity was not in her books. On the days when she felt it had to be short, they were either getting stabbed with a very blunt tree branch filled with army ants, tied up and acid poured down their throats or just plain stabbed to death 3 places in the neck 2 in the gut and 7 seven spots on the thighs with both Achilles heels cut. Each time she stood by and watched as the life slowly vanished from their eyes. You see Brad her dad was an honest man, a construction worker who worked in a big company. He hated seeing others cheated and couldn’t stand injustice. The question is, what did he do?

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