Being on your knees in the mud and blood, is already a bad situation gone worse, but being dragged through the dark streets of a distraught city by eight large thugs with scars dominating the majority of their faces is much more of a problem. Streets, alleys, warehouses, I watched them go by as if each were just a ripple in a black, bottomless pond. The smell of pungent sweat, the individual stones I feel digging into my skin, the sound of falling rain were the only things to grace my senses. The rest of me felt numb, tired and fatigued. There was no chance of fighting back.
I blacked out when a large object struck my head, but strangely the sleeping sensation felt pleasurable, and I embraced it without hesitation…
I was awoken by the sudden impact to my teeth, sudden and great, followed by the taste of blood spilling through my gums pouring through my lips, the sudden pit patter of a pool forming on the floor rung through my head. My eyes finally opened trying desperately to adapt to the light, or there lack of. It was dark, hazy and my head throbbed. I could make out the floor and pushed myself up slowly attempting to gain some balance. I was on my knees again, this time on concrete however the change wasn't too welcoming.
"Awake at last?" a voice cackled from the dark
The light directly above me did nothing to illuminate the room and every time my tormentor spoke to me, the origin moved. From corners, to directly behind me. I tried to clear my ears and soon I could hear the sound of worn shoes on a concrete floor. He was circling me.
He started laughing, quiet at first, but suddenly it grew with every passing step. My breath started to quicken and my heart started to race and he enjoyed every second of it. Closer and closer he came, the laughter maddeningly loud now. So, so close. He's there. Not fifteen feet from me now.
I could see his shoes, well-tailored but worn, scuffed and dirty. Within a few steps, his trousers materialised, well-made but torn, a large patch on his left knee from where they had been repaired poorly. I couldn't tell the colour, he was still so far away. I tried to breathe deeper but the rushing blood from my nose prevented any such attempt forcing me to pant like a dog expecting the needle. He laughed again. Long and chilling. Growing gradually in volume continuously like the crashing of drums. I spotted a green shirt and the trousers appeared… purple, but my attention was torn away from them when I saw the glint of a blade and yet still the laugh grew!
I ducked my head in submission, there was no point in angering my attacker… or so I thought. His laughter faded as if surprised by my sudden lack of fear, only acceptance. But only for a moment or so, for a chuckle escaped his lips like a child on Christmas day…
My eyes glanced up slightly, only for a peek.
Even in the dark his eyes were clear, staring deep into my soul, his pupils shaking back and forth whilst remaining fixated on me. He didn't wait any longer, he leaned forward with an experienced grace.
"Don't tell me you're hurt sugar plums?"
Green hair, pale face, and a smile stretched across thin cheeks. Not a man, not even a devil… a monster.
"Oh I have plans for you, my boy…"
He laughed.