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A Fate Worse Than Death
That last punch literally popped one of my eyes out of my head. It was now dangling from its socket, giving me a very interesting view of my cigarette burned tits, both of which were missing their nipples compliments of the butane torch that had been used to turn them into a pair of charred lumps of cooked meat before the Red soldier with the pliers ripped what was left of them from my squeezies. The torch was then used once more to cauterize the wounds. Why I'll never know, we zombies...