"Please, just stop..." Mao heaves, kneeling weak against the rotten floorboards, his body shaking like a leaf in the wind. Puke and blood and other bodily fluids surrounding his figure. He wipes a thumb across his own lips, be ridding of the new sense of blood leaving from his mouth and then looks up to you, a puppet master holding a voodoo doll of him. An exact replica, down to a tee. Even to the smallest of all details.

"I-I'll do anything for you if it means to stop this torture!" He begs.