Not able to watch anymore, you quickly glance around looking for some way to help. After a moment, you spot a card hanging from one corner of the cage on your side. There is metal sheeting keeping anyone inside the cage from reaching through to the card. Walking forward you head toward it, only to feel the tile beneath your foot give way and a sharp pain stab through your foot.

Looking down, you can see that the tile floor has given way under your weight and nails have come up through small holes in the floor to prick your feet. You slowly pull your foot back, feeling the nails piercing the sole of your foot slide back out roughly. Blood stains the tile floor now and your foot throbs painfully where the nails went through to the bone.

Angry swearing draws your attention back to your mother and stepfather in the cage, they seem to have turned on each other now. Greg has your mother by the shoulders and is trying to force her down to the floor, likely to rip the key out of her throat. If you're going to help, you'll have to act quickly.

Still, the thought enters your mind that she never did help you when you had been the one he was hurting. How many times had he come into your bedroom as a child, hurting you and you had looked over at the door to see her watching with disgust on her face. But, she never intervened. Just looked at you as if it were all your fault before walking away and going back to sleep, leaving you at the mercy of a grown man many times your child self's size.

You give Up

You continue to watch as Greg finally turns to slinging your mother around the cage until she finally slips and falls. He's on her before she can scramble back up. She screams and begs for you to help her, but it's too late for that. How many times had you begged for her help as a little girl? What had she ever done to help you? Now she would know how it felt.

He raises his heavy fist and brings it down into her face hard, blood exploding out of her nose from the blow. A few more hard hits to the face makes her go limp so that he can then grip the fishing line and pull hard. Blood oozes from her mouth as the hook on the end of the line rips her throat on the way up, popping out of her lips with both the key and shreds of flesh hanging off of it.

Greg quickly puts the key into the lock on the device around his head, unlocking it so that he can then get about taking it off. The bolts on his skull are still drilling inward and he has to rip it off of his head, scraping some of the skin off as it does. But, he stands there free finally except for the bit of fishing line still down his throat.

The bolts on your mother's device keep drilling into her skull, faster and faster now that the countdown is below one minute. The sound as her skull starts to crack from the pressure is sickening, but Greg just stands there looming over her watching as it happens. He doesn't even look sad that his wife is dying because he sacrificed her to save himself. Not that he was ever the kind of man to feel remorse.

Finally, the clock hits zero just as your mother's body goes into convulsions, thrashing about as blood oozes around the bolts drilling their way into her temples before going still as bloody foam drips from her mouth. Greg finally looks over at you, those cruel eyes of his glinting like they always do when he thinks he's won.

A door opens off to the side, your escape into the next little slice of hell. The sound of his voice cursing your very existence echoes in the room as you turn your back on him and leave. He always did like getting the last word in, didn't he?