After what seemed like an eternity, the vicious group of twelve finally relented. The leader straightened up and brushed the blood off his face, a thin smile curving his lips.
"If only she could see the irony." he said pensively. "This would almost amount to matricide."
"Mother, beaten to death by her own children!" came a cackle from the back of the group.
"When you put it like that, it almost makes me feel guilty. Put 'mother' out of her misery." said another, disengaging herself from the group and walking towards the exit.
"Already?" replied the leader, in a mock tone of surprise. "My inner sadist is not so easily pleased, Bastet."
The man reached down and wrapped a large hand around Ashlynn's blood-covered throat, his grip tightening as he felt his fingers slip in the scarlet liquid. With brute strength, he lifted her up into the air with one swift motion and continued to dog his fingers into her throat until he drew even more blood; Ashlynn's cries of pain had been replaced with a horrible, gurgling sound. The very last notes of one about to die.