The Helm of Darkness

In that split second I touched her, everything I feared, everything I was scared of flashing before my eyes. The sight of my family being murdered, me not being able to do anything, claws trying to snatch me from the darkness. The whispers of the devil as he tried to take me. The need to be dead. The freeze of one thousand icicles piercing my skin. In that one second, I died one thousand times, suffered under the weight of tons, watching the last bubbles of air fly to the surface as I drowned. I let out a cry, staring at her as her jaw quivered. She turned slowly to look at me, and I saw dark circles ringed her eyes. Her face shook, and I realized, from experience, she was being tortured. But, by what? What was happening to these people?