Brought to the dungeon and tied down on a cot, pretty Kimberly Marvel looks up in horror at the sharp blade swinging back and forth over her waist, lowering just a tiny bit with each swing. Was she going to be slowly and painfully cut in half by the wicked blade in a nightmarish horror from the mind of Edgar Alan Poe?

Brought to the dungeon and tied down on a cot, pretty Kimberly Marvel looks up in horror at the sharp blade swinging back and forth over her waist, lowering just a tiny bit with each swing. Was she going to be slowly and painfully cut in half by the wicked blade in a nightmarish horror from the mind of Edgar Alan Poe?