CHLOE'S POV.
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She swayed, her arms aching as the chair seemed to stretch the muscles. They had changed her position, and now the chains were wrapped around her wrist and tied to a spot on the ceiling. It was easier that way. It was easier for Burke to hit a swinging person.
The man, Oliver, stood there, eyes narrowed as blood soaked whatever was left of her clothes, dripping to the floor like a waterfall, not a tap that was not closed fully. Her hair stuck in her face, sweat dried and mixed with tears and blood.
"The witches and vampires, how can we kill them?"
She screamed as Burke hit her with the whip again. Her teeth gritted at the sharp pain. The sound echoed throughout the room, and her bloodshot eyes fixed on Oliver. 'I will not bow. I will not be broken.'
"What's the grand plan? What does he want with the human race after we've been surrendered?"
Chloe managed to shake her head that drooped, "Death," she drawled out, thraot hoarse and cracked.
