In the very lucid dream, Ciel is shackled to the altar with men and women in masks and long, hooded black robes surrounding him as he quickly begins to struggle but says nothing as he glares at them in hate and fury then stops suddenly as he feels the harsh sting of a whip across his bare chest and the harsh sound afterward as he winces in pain and lays there, sedated as the pain spreads from his chest, causing him to whimper as they laugh and start chanting. He knew no one would help him, he hoped, yes, but deep down he knew no one would find him, at least not today.
The young boy squeezes his eyes shut as he hears the flick of a knife to his left and he winces even before he feels the biting pain as it draws across his chest in a deep line as he flinches and tries to draw back, feeling the crimson blood that was his well up in the wound then begin to run down his chest and to the side, onto the altar as he hears the achingly familiar chanting as he shakes his head, trying to hold onto the hate and anger and not act scared as he so desperately wanted to.
But...he almost couldn't find it. That familiar feeling of anger was almost too faint to feel, but once he felt it, he held onto it and held it firmly, feeling it run through his veins as he opens his royal blue eyes and glares at the figures surrounding him as he sees the knife draw closer to his skin again, this time on his arm as it slices across it, opening another cut as he cries out in pain, feeling the wetness of his blood as it also drips down his arm. Ciel struggles and tries to get free from the chains, but he finds that he can't as he shakes his head and groans, laying back on the altar. But not before feeling the harsh sting of the whip on his side as he jerks in pain and cries out, tears betraying him as his eyes water in agonized pain.
And they didn't stop. THe pain only got worse from there as he feels multiple blades cutting his skin and he feels the whip repeatedly hitting him as his mind fills with the pain and it seems that that's all that he can feel. He looks past the men and women in pure agony as biting pain seems to radiate from every point in his body, from his chest to his toes.
He screams, and it's then that the pain gets even worse. His eyes widen as he finds that he all of a sudden can't breathe and he writhes on the altar in pain as he shakes his head, feebly trying to breathe in as his hands ball into fists and his chest faintly rises and falls. It burns, his lungs burn in pain, setting his whole body on fire as he continues to writhe and breathe deeply, and he mutters a weak, "...help..." for someone, anyone to help him, though he knows that htey won't. He just wheezes and faintly feels the blood flow down him and the still stinging pain of repeated whip cracks as things start to go blurry around the edges of his vision. He knows that he might die. Die here, alone, and that idea doesn't scare him into trembling. The thing that scares him into trembling is the burning of his lungs and the fear that he would die having an asthma attack out of anything else.
His vision continues to dim as the pain burns every fiber of his body, causing him to scream soundlessly and wheeze more as he tries desperately to breathe, to get enough air, but he can't, he just can't and it's then that the dizziness hits and he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling the room spin around him as he then passes out from lack of air and bloodloss.
