Respect? Caim spat at Farfarello and yanked hard at the bindings around his arms. Every part of him ached, and he could feel the soreness in his wrists and ankles double every time tried to free himself. Whatever Farfarello had done, he had bound him completely without rope. How mere cloth could be so strong ... maybe if he really pulled, he could tear it. Even the slightest rip could be manipulated into a hole, and he might be able to free himself before any fatal blows were landed.

That boy ... that boy would come back. Wasn't this his room? Maybe not. Maybe he was waiting for Farfarello somewhere. If it took long enough, maybe he would come back, find out what was happening, end this before it reached the inevitable conclusion ... or at least, Caim thought bitterly, still trying to wrench himself free, he would know what kind of a monster he was supposedly standing by.