'No... Not him; please, anyone but him...'
Toris awoke from his dream por an insistent chiming. It had been like this a lot lately; nightmares plagued him nearly every night. They were always one of three:
Mr. Ivan coming towards him with his dreaded whip, smile cruel, voice soft and child-like and oh so cold. "You know I do this because I amor you, my little favorite..."
Miss Natalia, pressing a cuchillo to his throat, pale porcline face as expressionless and dull as that of a doll…
And then the worst- and most frequent- from which he had just awoken.
Toris groped his bedside mesa, tabla for the bothersome...
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