Prisoner Z lay motionless on the hard , cold surface .

The whip bore down viciously , delivering a series of blows to the torn , bloody frame .

His lips , swollen and bloodied , twitched as he muttered incoherently , over and over , like a mantra … they can break my body but not my mind … not my mind …

As his broken body jerked involuntarily in the throes of death , his spirit lifted and began to rise .

He could feel himself floating , weightless , fading , dissolving into nothingness …

The blessed state of oblivion loomed , closing in on him .

His last exhilirating thought before he embraced it was ~ freedom at last !

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