Brigit was quite astounded at the noises coming from behind the door.  It sounded as though a torture session was going on in there.<br/><br/>Suddenly she had a flash back. . .<br/><br/>The small room underneath the house.  He took her there for their "play time".  But it wasn't fun at all.  It hurt and she hated it.  She hated HIM!  That day she had been aloud out of her closet to roam the house because she'd been good the day before.  She took a large knife from the kitchen and hid it in her clothes, she would show him how good she could be.  When it was time to go to "play time" she went willingly with her surprise waiting behind her clothes.  When he had closed the door she turned on him and pushed him down the stares.  He hit the bottom with a dull thud.  She walked down casually smiling a wicked smile.  He was still alive, how convenient.  She went to work on him with the knife immediately torturing him for hours before finally killing him.  She cut his tongue out, all his fingers off, and the cruel thing in his pants that had hurt her worse than anything else he'd ever used.  Suddenly she realized that she was a bloody mess.  She ran upstairs crying and took the phone.  The thing she was never aloud to touch and called 911, then simply whimpering into the receiver when it was answered.  The lady said that help was on the way.  She was frightened.  What had she done?  She hadn't seen another human in so long.  She ran to her closet and curled up in a ball until the police came. . .