The shocking contraption dubbed The Laughing Reaper. A custom built chair crafted by a twisted genius. The most unsettling seat... and the deepest pit of horror. It laughs then it cackles with ever escalating intensity. Mechanical yet eerie limbs caress my sides, my underarms, my ribs, my belly, and my naval. Each touch tickles, each stroke a piercing precise sensation like the bristles of dried brushes. If I were a captive informant, I would have spilled all my secrets. But all the shadowy...