The Nail Board

They dressed me as a clown. They made me crawl. They pressed me onto a board of rusted nails—and walked away.

I didn't scream. I didn't beg. I just waited.

Three years ago, a contract gave me a second chance. Survive three years, and everything they did to me comes back tenfold.

Now I'm free. Now they're in prison.

And the nails? They're just the beginning.