Her teary, doe eyed look says it all. She knows what is coming. I can feel her body trembling under my firm grip, and she whimpers softly as I move my hands around her thin neck. Her hands instinctively move over mine, but she doesn't fight or pull away.

Conditioned to accept her death, the clone had already known she would die. After working with clones that have fought against death, Dr. R had wanted us to experience a different side of victims.

"There are some victims," He had said in class, "that, when they know they are about to die, accept their fate. These individuals tend to express sad willingness in death. This can be disconcerting and uncomfortable for a killer that wants the rush of a struggling victim and sometimes leads to violent rape, torture, or extensive postmortem mutilation."

Our assignment today involves two clones, each accepting of death. My first is laying beneath me, and I realize how strange it is to have her relaxed and still as I strangle her. I squeeze her neck tighter, and her brown eyes bulge. Her eyelids flutter, and tears trickle down her cheeks. Tremors run through her small frame, and her eyes reopen. This time, however, they are distant and unfocussed.

I watch as the light fades from them. I listen for a heartbeat with my ear pressed to her chest, but there is only silence.

The first half of my assignment completed, I move on to the second. The other clone, identical to the first one, is chained by her wrists to the ceiling a few feet from the first. I can already see a hint of fear in her eyes. The assignment requires us to elicit a response from the second clone, through whatever means we can contrive. I retrieve a medium sized satchel that holds the key to my method.

In order to get the clone to respond, I decided to take a guess at a torture method that would play into her fears. I open the satchel and remove a tube of twenty inch long metal needles, each about one sixteenth of an inch thick, with sharpened ends.

I pull out one of the needles and asses the young body that lies before me. Naked vulnerable, she eyes the needle nervously. I can see her bottom lip quivering, and I know already that I hit the jackpot. Her breasts tremble as she takes a shaky breath, and I know my first target. I take her firm, supple left breast in my left hand and with my right, I press the needle into her flesh. Her eyes closed tight, she moans as the needle pokes out the other side. I grab her right breast and press it against the left, continuing to press the needle through. It skewers her right breast and emerges on the other side.

I let go of both breasts and leave them pinned together. I take another needle and press it into the center of her abdomen, just below her ribcage, angling upward to pierce her diaphragm. Her breaths become short and ragged as I press it just over halfway into her. I remove two more needles. These I slide into her thighs. She begins crying as I slide the thin steel into her tense muscle until I hit bone. Twelve total, six symmetrically on each side, find their ways between her ribs. They move up and down with each of her sobs.

She looks at me, and I can tell she is about to break. She looks at me with pleading eyes, as I take another needle and place the tip at the soft spot at the base of her neck.

"Please, no." She manages to get out. All I can do is smile at her. "Please don't do this!" She begs louder. She begins pulling at the chains as I put pressure on the needle. Knowing I have completed my assignment, I let it begin disappearing into her body, and she cries out. I press it all the way into her before picking out another needle.

For this one, I pull her head back and place the tip under her chin. Then, holding the needle in place with one hand, I press down her head with the other and it pierces up through lower jaw and through her tongue. I press it further in and it slides into her soft palate and continues up until it hits bone. Her tongue twitches in her mouth uncontrollably, trying to remove the foreign object. I look into her wide, fear-filled eyes and know the perfect place for the final needle.

She tries to shut her eyes to the thin steel tip, but I hold open her eyelids. She is whimpering with each breath as the needle gets nearer and nearer to her cornea. Then, as she screams a final high pitched shriek, the point pierces through the pupil and goes to the base of her socket. Holding the back of her head, I give it a strong shove, and it cracks through the thin bone and sinks into her the front lobe of her brain.

Her expression immediately changes. She goes from tense and fearful to limp and impassive. Her breaths still come in ragged gasps, but she hangs, supported only by her arms.

I move around behind her, unzip my pants and remove my cock, and, by lifting one of her legs up to her chest, I am able to force myself into her. Her body, barely clinging to life, is still able to respond to sexual stimulation, and I feel her getting wet. Droplets of blood hit the floor from each needle as I thrust myself into her. I grab the needle in her head and, as I come, shove it deeper into her grey matter, ending her torment.