"None of the above," he said. The words came slowly and calculated -- and every syllable was stained with truth. Edward, while he appreciated the value of physical torment, preferred to torture the mind above all else. He understood Eridan's taste to lie elsewhere, perhaps baser compared to his own. Such is what his philosophy declared, anyway.

But perhaps that was exactly Eridan's intention.

He shifted, and winced. Blood dripped from those razor thin cuts lining his body, the sting shrieks burning into his breathing flesh. Moving would prove an ordeal, now, as Eridan's chosen targets were crucial to daily living.

"You're going to have to wait it out, Eridan, if you want to play it like that." Eddie licked at his lips, his chest rising and falling with speed. Talking helped. Talking distracted him from the pain. "Psychology was never your strongest suit, was it?"