[ He snarls and spits as Jack grabs him, half-blinded by pain and the sizzling water that's still on his skin. A part of him wants to kick and punch and bite until there's nothing left of Jack but a wet mess on the floor, while another, albeit smaller but much more noticeable part is starting to give up. It doesn't matter what he does. If they have his soul — and he suspects that might be true, with the tingles running down his spine — he can kill half the dome and still not escape.
If he hadn't been tricked in here, if he had only been able to reach the witches circle, if if if- ]
Go to hell, Jack. They like people like you down there.
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marinanova,