Ophelia tilted her head, squinting at Eve. “You will never know where the rest of us are,” she replied. “If you kill him, Eve, I swear to God, I will die before I tell you where the others are.”
She tilted her head, her shoulders relaxing as she tilted her head. "I have a feeling you wouldn't tell me either way."
“Maybe not,” she replied. “I’m not exactly keen to help you. But you can either completely burn an unsteady bridge or leave it up in hopes of still gathering supplies from it. You’re a snake, but you’re not stupid, Eve. That’s not how we conduct business.”
Ophelia squinting at her, tilting her head. “Is that not how you see it? Feelings are clouding your judgement, Eve, and your strategy is failing as a result. Any tactician would tell you that you’re acting hastily here.”
"Hm," she murmured, going over to a table off to the side and opening a box, pulling out an electric cattle prod. "Looks like you're in it for the long game, then."
Her eyes darted to the instrument and she audibly shuddered. She hugged herself as best she could with her cuffed hands, but looked up at Eve. “Aren’t you?”
She came over, pressing it to the underside of her chin. "I am a very.. patient.. person," she said with a grin, before turning it on.
Try as she might, Ophelia couldn’t stop herself from screaming from the pain. She jerked her head back from Eve, trying to pull away.
Ophelia swayed slightly, trying to catch her breath as she watched Eve through fluttering eyelids. “...yes,” she replied after a moment. “Do your worst.”
Abel shook his head. "Ophelia, no.." Eve whipped her head back. "Oh right. You're here. Her weakness," she said sweetly.
Ophelia opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn’t seem to keep herself upright, and she suddenly slumped, her body going limp as the darkness rushed in.
