This is strange indeed, but I wanted to write it, so... I own nothing! God bless, enjoy!
It was a cage of body and mind. An entrapment of heart and soul. Each physical hit was a step closer to the pit of hopelessness. Each broken bone one move towards burned out faith. The cold seeped into his bones, sapping the energy he didn't have to give.
His rasping breaths filled the reeking room, his tattoo covered chest rising and falling.
His blond hair was steadily being covered in more blood, the sticky substance oozing from the wound on the back of his head. The scent of blood filled his nostrils, metallic, tangy and familiar.
His eyes closed, head gingerly leaning against the wall. His heartbeat filled his throbbing head, pulsing and pounding, becoming ever so loud.
He'd run from pain in the past, hidden from the anger of his Guardian. But no wall or door could close him off from the agony that infested the very ground in this place. No room could hide him from what followed. It was in the very air, shattering and tearing at him.
And if he ever got out, it would never come to this again. He would stay on top – he wouldn't fall to the cold and the hurt again.
He would fight not to survive, but to be unbroken by the depths of agony.
The door opened, and someone was tossed inside, hitting the floor with a cry of shock. "Piotr!" The name was gasped, almost as an apology. His muscles tensed, and numbly he watched the guards moving inside, eyes locked now on him.
"Piotr—" his 'inmate' repeated, regret in his expression. Briefly, Piotr wondered what his cellmate had told them.
He didn't have long to consider this before he was dragged out.