Death to America
Yoshiko’s brown eyes glimmered in the light of the wooden torches that adorned the walls of the tiny dungeon room. Her dyed-blond hair draped over the edge of the stone slab to which she was tied. On her head she wore a golden crown which extended a sort of blade in each direction. She was nude underneath the light-blue robe which fit very loosely over her body.
Yoshiko struggled to wriggle herself free, but she was tied very securely. She let out screams of terror in the hopes that the sound of her voice may penetrate the blackened stone walls and somehow reach someone on the outside world. Damn it! If only Jessica were here!
But Jessica wasn’t there. It was just Yoshiko and the three men that stood around her, each clad in a white suit and wearing blackface. One man stood to either side of her, and one stood directly in front of her. The latter picked up the final pieces of the ritual, a bible and a torch. He threw the bible down on Yoshiko. Saying a prayer, the man used one of the torches against the wall to light the one he was holding. He stepped around to the other side of Yoshiko. He threw the lit torch down on Yoshiko and the three men fled, closing a stone door behind them.