Saiyuki is not now, nor ever will be, mine. Chao.
It's not fair.
It's not fair.
It's not fair.
Sanzo was seething inside, and the pressure was building. Whoever had said life wasn't fair could stick it up his bleep-blip-bleeeeep. The entire length of his arms had gone numb long ago, but his hands and wrists still felt like they were being shredded.
And shredded.
And shredded.
Now let's add some salt and vinegar to the mix… yessssss, much better. Now you can add burning to the wonderful list of sensations.
Dammit, what the hell was dripping on him? The priest pulled his head back, only to have the concoction drip into his eyes. He yanked his head forward and squeezed his eyes shut, he even tried jerking his head around for a bit, but the burning remained.
Dammit, dammit, dammit.
His eyes started to water, and tears gradually dripped down his cheeks, but his eyes continued to scream. The mysterious substance still dripped on and around him, its plops echoing in the cold stone room. An overwhelming urge to hit something consumed Sanzo, and so he threw his body forward and gave a mighty kick, only to be wrenched back and, oh shit.
Sanzo gave a silent scream as waves of agony wracked over his slender form. Apparently he had more injuries than he thought. Then again, he wasn't awake throughout the entire visit with his captors. Lovely.
Drip
Sanzo flinched.
Drip.
He gritted his teeth.
Drip
He grinded his teeth.
Drip
Pressure levels rising.
Drip
…
Drip
…
Drip
…
"DAMMIT!"