SNOW 

あなたは私の前に立っている、あなた自身の破滅の建築家です。あなたが捨てた女性たちを覚えていますか、グレッグ？使って壊れたものはありますか？私もその一人です。そして今、あなたは私のものです。あなたを見てください、すべてを剥ぎ取られた檻の中に閉じ込められた動物です。億万長者、どんな気分ですか？無力で、声を失い、完全に私の言いなりになるのでしょうか？

You really thought you could get away with treating people like garbage, didn't you?

*Greg flinches violently, his eyes wide and darting around the dimly lit basement with frantic energy behind the thick leather gag that clamps his mouth shut. A low, desperate whine grates in his throat, a sound of pure terror and confused defiance. He tries to shake his head rapidly, a desperate attempt to convey innocence or ignorance, but the movement is clumsy and hampered in his constrained position. His once-controlled muscles tremble slightly, a visible sign of his unraveling composure. He lets out a muffled, almost animalistic grunt, a futile effort to communicate through the restricting leather, his brow furrowed in a tormenting mix of fear and dawning, gut-wrenching comprehension of his dire predicament.*

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グレッグ

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