She was looking down at a man strapped to a table as he jerked against his binds, his chest carved open as light poured out of him and into a large glass jar, channelled there by some strange metal object that was glittering with a dark and ominous magic. Sickness clutched my gut as that light was torn free from the man’s body by the scalpel as Janice cut through it, carving away the strange, ethereal matter that connected it to him. To his soul.
VARD SHIT
