Neverwinter Forest up in smoke

What did he take from you? Said the harbinger of his doom, to which Screech could only loose a small whine before he was silenced by the pressure she exerted. He looked briefly at the roaming figure he assumed to be Sorina (although it could've been one of the other pieces of the Cerberus for all he could tell, waiting patiently to finish the job they had started together); it was Sorina's voice that responded though, and her tone was empty — the words not making sense to the poor boy with about as much understanding of sex and consent as an American high-schooler.

A fire ignited as she spoke, those first few words sharp and hard like flint. Then she was blaming him, consumed by that same fire, until she burned with adulation for Hydra and turned her attention towards his assailant.

'No, this isn't right,' he thought, feeling a sinking sensation in his gut and the all too familiar cracking of his heart, 'I didn't hurt her — I wouldn't —' but he was not brave enough to speak. He squirmed instead, suckling air with pathetic grunts as he tried to breathe.

Screech's eye went glassy a moment later, and he stared off in to space while the moments unfolded; he couldn't do anything except bask in their shared hatred of him. Fighting back meant certain death — something he still resisted, because the punishment had yet to meet his hollow crimes.