Fuck.
I was kneeling on all fours, a group of men standing above me with smirks that only wicked people could wear. After a moment, one of them stooped down to my level. I could feel his beady eyes focused on me, mocking me. I knew what he wanted, but I wasn't going to give it to him, no matter what he and his thugs did to me.
A hand clamped down on my jaw, turning my head up so my eyes were forced to look at his ugly visage, back dropped by the blaring winter sun. Oh yeah…I'd forgotten. I was kneeling in six inch deep snow. I guess my hands had gotten used to the low temperatures. I didn't dare lift them to see if they were frostbitten; that would just get me another numbing smack to the cheek, and my face was swollen enough.
"All we want is the girl," he said in his thick Orlesian accent. No shit, I thought. It's what they'd been asking for all morning. Or was it the afternoon now? Did it really matter? Torture was torture, no matter the time of day. Still…it would've been nice to know.
I forced myself to look at him, examining his features. One eye always remained shut; whether it was injured or he was doing it to make himself look awful was unknown. The other one was wide open and a little glazed, as if he were slowly becoming blind, though he didn't look older than thirty or forty. His dark blonde hair was shaggy and badly tended; I could literally see the insects that were burrowed in his scalp crawling around in desperation, as if even they couldn't stand the odor that emanated from him. That was another thing: he always smelled like sewer water and rotten garbage. I guess it was supposed to intimidate me.
Another punch as I remained silent. More swelling as blood rushed to my face. More bickering and yelling amongst the group while the one gripping my face kept repeating, "Quiet down, you idiots! Do you want to be discovered?" I wasn't sure which was worse: being repeatedly beaten by his smelly, calloused hands or listening to their uncoordinated ideas for what would happen next. Someone suggested just tossing me into the nearby river. Another said that was just stupid, and I silently agreed; not because I didn't want to be thrown in (which was partially the reason, I admit), but because I would probably be found quicker that way. What idiots.
"Our orders were to keep at it until she snaps," the leader said with obvious frustration. "Do you want to lose money?"
"You'll lose it anyway," I stated weakly, causing them all to look at me. "I'll never tell."
"That is for us to know and you to find out."
More smacks and questions. By the Maker, I thought his hand would break just from the force of his flesh hitting mine. Sadly, it didn't. Even more arguing. Didn't they ever get tired? The sun was slowly starting to fall towards the western horizon. Perhaps it was later than I imagined. The others took notice, and started grumbling about dinner. At first, I was crazy enough to believe that I was the main course, but that wasn't the case. Instead, they pulled rope out of their pack and proceeded to tie me to a tree. "We'll be back for you tomorrow, precious," the blonde grinned, exposing his rotten gums and missing teeth. "Don't even try to escape…we'll find you again and give you hell."
Right…like there's any chance of me getting out of these painfully tight knots. After that, they wandered off, once again fighting amongst themselves. It made me chuckle, which in turn made me cough violently. Something rose up in my throat and I was forced to spit it out. It was red and thick. Blood? Shit, they hit me too hard. There's no way I'll survive the night. I bowed my head and tried to sleep.
With any luck, I wouldn't wake up the next morning.