The girl mumbled quietly, her voice muffled by the drugs and thick fabric. Her body was perfectly still; she never fought against the restraints, but the mumbling never ceased.
“I wish she would stop that,” the hooded man said. “It is very unsettling.”
A second man stood nearby. He towered over the hooded man and his bald head glistened in the candle light. “It is better than listening to her scream,” he said.
Not for the first time, the smaller of the two men wondered how he could sweat in the cold confines of the basement. The bald man wore a t-shirt that hugged his body, and did little to hide mass of muscles that covered his bodies. “Must be the steroids,” he mumbled.