Kriss was writhing in her lonely suffering. Her head was bursting with pain coming from her ears and eyes. Her gaping jaw dangling at a bizarre angle and drooling abundantly as she moaned in utter agony, sounds she could not even ear now. She was too weak to move much. The yoke was forcing her to rest on her back, her crotch and breasts bristling with arrows. She felt something warm land on her face and chest, then a rope bound around her ankle and then nothing.<br/><br/>Nothing at all. No sound, no light. She was totally isolated from the world and would be so for ever. After a long time, she thought Aaron had abandoned her in that basement. She tried to get on her knees but she was so weak now and so hurting from everywhere that she could not even lift the yoke from the floor. She was hungry and even more thirsty. Unable to close her broken mouth, her saliva was drooling freely, leaving her palate completely parched and dry as dust. Bracing on her heels, she managed to push herself in the vague direction of where she remembered the stairs were.<br/><br/>She was quickly stopped by her bound ankle though. Using the toes from her free foot, she explored the coarse knot. Maybe she could undo it. But what would she do then? How could she hope to climb those stairs. Still, her mind could not resolve itself to abandon, to die alone in that basement. She fought with her toes, fumbling around the thick rope, until she had managed to undo the knot.<br/><br/>And then she continued to push herself until her head banged against something. Was it the wall? Was it the first step of the stairs? She would never know as, at this moment, she was yanked to her feet. She moaned as her weight was once again pressing on her burned soles. The arrows stuck into her breasts moved around, refreshing the pain she was feeling.<br/><br/>And then she felt a kick in her butt and she understood she had to walk. Who was there? Aaron? Someone else. There was no way for her to tell. She climbed the stairs with difficulty. Her legs were trembling, she felt so weak, so powerless.<br/><br/>The long walk began. From the heat on her naked skin she knew it was daylight. She could even tell they were moving southwards. It was a painful walk. She was hurting from everywhere. She was exhausted. Often, she stumbled and fell hard on the cracked macadam, breaking the arrows until they were reduced to stumps hardly protruding from her flesh. Whenever she fell from exhaustion, she was brutally yanked back to her feet and beaten until she walked again.<br/><br/>The trip became tortuous, with frequent changes of direction. Still, she could tell they were going south, thanks to the feeling of heat on her skin. Were they going to the Battery Fort? There was no way to tell. But at least they were approaching their territory.<br/><br/>The walk took hours. Or at least it felt like hours to her. And then, suddenly, she was left alone. No more beating to force her forward. Maybe the man was around, maybe he was gone. She had no way to tell.<br/><br/>Kriss was exhausted, her legs were trembling, she was thirsty like hell. However, she did not dare to sit down. She knew it would be extremely difficult for her to stand up. She decided to force herself to move forward.<br/><br/>And she did so, until she entered a patch of sun once again. Orienting herself towards the heat, she continued to walk in a more or less south direction.