Tuesday April 14, 2026
Spitalfields Chemical Warehouse
Spitalfields and Banglatown, London, England
The warehouse is in a deserted industrial complex in the East End of London. This night, all the heaters are turned off and the cold inside the warehouse is unbearable. In the office part of the building, there’s a large steel table with a naked English woman lying on top, handcuffed to the table legs. Her wrists and ankles are scraped, bruised, and swollen from friction with the restraints. Her eyes are closed and her breathing ragged. A large, hot spotlight is pointed at her. The lamp should have warmed her body, but she’s still shivering from cold. A video camera is above her, recording her predicament.
The woman is quite attractive, with blue eyes and shoulder-length blonde hair. She’s in her thirties with a firm, well-conditioned body. Unfortunately, a deep slash cuts through her abdomen, from beneath her sternum to just below her navel, which has caused most of her entrails to spill out. A man is beside the table, holding a small, bloody knife.
“Karen,” says the man in an Irish accent. “Karen, wake up!” His left hand caresses her hair.
Karen struggles to open her eyes because of the dazzling spotlight.
“Karen,” says the man again.
Karen finally opens her eyes. She looks frightened and in pain.
“Please… stop…” she begs.
The man only smiles.
“Niall… please... I’ve… told you… everythin’…” begs Karen again, her Manchester accent quivering.
“I know, my dear.”
“Why… keep… hurtin’… me?” she pleads, starting to cry.
Niall wipes her tears with his left hand and shakes his head. “Why, Karen, I’m just doing this for fun.”
Karen cries even louder.
“Ye will die today, Karen,” says Niall, “in a few hours from now.”
He makes a small cut on Karen’s innards with his knife. Karen can feel the knife slicing her intestines and she screams in agony! All she can do is scream and writhe around, causing more injury to her wrists and ankles.
Her screams of pain last more than three hours. They finally stop, just before dawn.