Worse Than Death

“Please, please,” the girl wept. “Don’t do this! I don’t want to die!”

Her captor tightened the leather straps around her wrists, then laid out a plastic roll of surgical tools on the table next to the dentist’s chair.

“Then don’t worry!” he said cheerfully, picking up a scalpel. A wicked smile spread across his face. “I assure you I’m going to keep you very much alive…”

The scalpel glinted evilly in the harsh fluorescent light.

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