He stopped struggling to conserve his energy, "But your 3-year old wouldn't torture a person who may be able to help you with your issues."
David lay there for a long time in his own waste, no one coming to check on him until many hours later. It was the woman from before, and if he thought she had any compassion for him, David was wrong. She threw a bucket of cold water over him by way of 'cleaning', and dribbled some in his mouth. It tasted like rust and minerals.

(Rsp?)

"Marines killed my husband," she said coldly. "We'd been married three months. He loved to laugh, but all I can remember about him now is the screams he made as he was dying." There was a hatred in her eyes that was as sharp as a knife, an emptiness and devastation to her soul nothing could cure. "I blame you and all your kind, fleeter. I hope they gut you in there." She stood up and spit into his face, the spittle landing on one of David's eyes.

(Rsp?)

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