“I love it when you cry.” Said that cold and eerie voice, that you began to fear. The voice of Elijah. You quickly snapped your head to the voice, glaring at Elijah. Elijah returned your glare with a sadistic smile. “You rarely cry, why wouldn’t I feel pleased when you do?” He began to press himself up against the bars of your cell, wanting to see your tear-stained cheeks. “Fourth time you’ve cried this week. You know what that means? You’re breaking. And I can’t wait til you do.”