You scream in pain as the whip is brought down on your back, your family, who once would've hurried to get to you, tied up, their bodies lifeless as blood continues to pour out of them. You're the only one left, only still alive because they revel in the pleasure of you having to suffer for the rest of your life.

You crawl towards your father's body as your family is untied, their corpses falling to the group undignified, their existence disregarded. You're slowed down by the thick blood that swamps the floor as you wade your way towards him, hearing the mocking laughs behind you, but trying desperately to find some form of safety. Your undeveloped brain not able to process the idea of death just yet.

You curl up against his corpse as the laughs start to fade, the people leaving you there to rot, the blood comes up to your waist when you crawl, forcing you to lay on the body so you won't suffocate.

Two weeks later, starving, dehydrated, dizzy, traumatized and in pain, your eyes are too sore to cry any longer, your body lacking the fluids needed to fill your tear ducts. Too weak and disoriented to move, you lie there, curled up against your father, you haven't moved since the day it started, the rotting stench of his and the rest of your family's corpse only adding to your suffering by making you sick. The bodies, having started to rot, are infested by maggots, the smell drawing the small creatures like rats to the scene, the rats sometimes biting at you, chewing on you, but you're too weak to do much more than try to weakly push them off.

The guardians, busily trying to make their way down the long list of despaired names, finally comes across yours, all of them (North, Jack, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy) finding a horrifying scene, blood that goes up to their calves, rotted corpses, bloodied tools, bits of bone scattered about, and... a three-year-old child curled up against her father's corpse.