It takes him time to realize it is the noise of the pulleys working. He is being lowered to the ground once more. It must be over. The crowd, for the most part, has waned, although he has no idea how long he has been suspended up there. What is left of those gathered regard him with only a vague interest and it seems as if they’ve forgotten why they came. What exactly had they been expecting to see? Szerynski wonders. His body aches all over except for the points where the hooks puncture his skin. In these places there is a certain numbness, a dullness void of feeling or unfeeling, and even as he presses his finger against them, there is no response. Mina, his fetish nurse, helps him onto a gurney and checks over his wounds with disinterest. He feels as if he has lost something vital to his very being and she knows this. “How long was I up there for?” he asks her. “Three hours,” she tells him. “Just like you asked.” “Are you sure? I wasn’t brought down early?” She takes out the hooks one by one.
