The copper tang washes over his tongue again, so Castle spits, propelling more of his blood into the ever growing puddle of it by his feet. His head throbs achingly with every beat of his heart, which speeds up with each punch, only to slow down again while awaiting the next one. He can only see out of his right eye, as the left is swollen completely shut. He isn't certain, but he is fairly sure one of his teeth has been knocked loose. Blood trickles from his left ear, trailing down to meet with the stream that's draining slowly from his nose, then continues down to his chin where it drips off to mix with his expectorated blood below. A powerfully painful cough is now becoming almost constant, thanks to the harsh blows that keep landing in his gut and chest.
Suddenly a fist meets his chin once more, slinging his head sideways with an intense amount of force. He doesn't think he can take much more without passing out – for the second time. They'd roused him with smelling salts before, and he feels certain they'll do so again if he slips into unconsciousness. He groans, the almost instinctive complaint escaping his lips of its own accord, then turns his head back to face forward. He has to try and stay alert, has to try not to give in to his desire to let go. He can't appear any weaker than he already has. If his attacker knows he's starting to really get to Castle, he might intensify his efforts in an attempt to break him. That's the last thing Castle needs.
Castle's mind feels as if it's in overdrive. Even with the rather efficient distraction of being a human punching bag, he can't stop thinking about everything that had led him to this moment. The case had gone so wrong. No. It wasn't the case. It was him. He had been so wrong. Kate had tried to tell him. But he hadn't listened. Now he's here, trapped only with his thoughts and a beast of a man that could probably give Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali a run for their money – at the same time. Another punch brings his thoughts back to the here and now. He needs to stop letting his increasingly fuzzy mind wander and focus on figuring out the best way to get out of here. Now.
He looks around as best he can. Being tied up and beaten makes it hard to pay attention to his surroundings, but luckily he's good at noticing things. Problem is, there's not much to notice. The door he'd been dragged through is the only way out of the little room. And it's not like the brute before him is just going to let him walk out. The man standing before him is no stranger to violence, of that Castle is certain. No one could be this at ease with reducing another human being to a bruised, bloody pulp without having been through some major violence in their time. The crooked nose from a poorly healed break combined with the rash of scars that intertwine with several thousand dollars worth of intricate tattoos running up and down his arms helps support that theory. Just then, the man seems to catch on to the fact that Castle is staring at him, and he smashes his knuckles into Castle's face yet again. As hard as he tries, Castle just can't help but drop his chin until it's resting against his chest as he loses all ability to hold his own head up.
"Mr. Castle, are you ready to talk?" the man bellows out in a gruff voice, one tainted by at least a pack of cigarettes a day.
Castle swallows, unable to stop the pained grimace that flashes across his face as he does so, and takes in a few breaths. They are shallow and barely feel like enough to even halfway fill his lungs, but it gives him enough oxygen to feel like he can move, though it's ever so slight. He slowly picks his head up and studies the man again. His coal black hair is cut in a military style crew cut, buzzed so short the color is hard to ascertain at first. His irises are the color of wet asphalt, and they seem to bore right through Castle as he stares down at him.
"I would," Castle replies, the words rasping out over his dry, cracked lips, "but my mother taught me not to talk to strangers."
His captor turns his head from side to side, popping the vertebrae in his neck loudly. Castle has a bad feeling that he really isn't going to like what comes next.