‘Did I talk? I talked until my throat was raw. I told them everything I could think of. I screamed every secret I’d ever heard. I babbled like a fool. When I ran out of things to tell them I made things up. I pissed myself and cried like a girl. Everyone does.’
This monologue wrecked me. Raw, unfiltered, and brutally human. The shame, the survival, the truth of it. Glokta isn’t just a tortured man — he is the aftermath.
