Nathaniel
Nathaniel stumbled for a brief second; the firm grip around him kept him up on his feet. His vision swirled and his left cheek ached. He suddenly tasted copper. It took everything in him to not close his eyes. Everything hurt. He could feel bruises forming along his arms and sides, his lip was split open, and his head pounded. Every breath he took pained him. They showed no mercy.
Unlike magicians, commoners fought dirty. He'd learned this with his several encounters with the Resistance. From theft, bombings, assassinations, and drugs. With fear and hatred, they attacked like the mob. A lone magician stood no chance against an army of scrappers. He needed Bartimaeus.
Stefan's voice shouted just above his ear.
"Now, open wide."
Abraham pressed a bloodied hand to Nathaniel's cheek. Nathaniel winced and wretched his face free. There was a soft buzzing in his head, as if his brain was replaced with a TV static.
Stefan's voice sounded just above his ear. It sounded so loud, yet so distant.
"Abraham – you need to stop. If you keep beating him, then there's no point in using the oyster. He already looks like he could be –"
"If I needed your opinion, Stefan, I would have asked for one." Abraham spat, glaring. "No one will find him. He'll be missing –"
"But – "
"INTERRUPT ME AGAIN AND I'LL FORCE-FEED YOU THIS OYSTER MYSELF."
The tension was palpable. Nathaniel couldn't focus. The pain was almost too much for him to bear. His arms were going numb now and he could hardly keep himself up. He couldn't tell if he could move his fingers. It all just felt numb. The buzzing in his head continued. The voices became more muffled. He strained to listed to their exchanges. One teen jerked him to the right, the other to the left. The man in front of him took hold of his face.
Maybe if I just closed my eyes… everything will be done.
Nathaniel swayed; his mind flickered. A hand yanked his hair back. If it hurt, he didn't feel it. He blinked, trying to focus his vision. The dark spots in the corners of his eyes grew and a swirl of colors blossomed in view. The buzzing in his head made him feel heavy. Tried as he might, he couldn't focus on the older man that stood in front of him.
Rough fingernails pried his jaw open; a plump, cold sensation slipped into his mouth. It sat heavy on the top of his tongue. The texture –
Nathaniel retched. A calloused hand slammed his mouth shut, forcing the poisoned oyster back into his mouth. Hot liquid spewed through his nose and between Abraham's fingers. The nausea clawed at his throat. His stomach contracted even more, forcing everything up and out.
"I'll make you eat your own vomit, boy." Abraham growled. "Swallow."
His throat and nose burned. Choking, he coughed violently. As he struggled to take in a breath, the stench of vomit was almost too much. His stomach convulsed again; more bile and stomach content came up. Hot tears began to form and burn his eyes. Everything hurt.
The buzzing was becoming overwhelming.
I just need to sleep. All of this will go away…
There was a muffled exchange; the teens shifted position.
Where are you, Bartimaeus?
Someone yanked his right arm back; an audible pop sounded. Suddenly, his vision filled with bright red. Muffled screams replaced the room's tense silence. He screamed into the older man's hands, vomit still spewing out. The buzzing in his head became louder, drowning out his own screams. He could hear nothing but the buzzing. He could see nothing but black and red. His legs buckled; his head fell forward as his eyelids fluttered shut. All at once, he felt nothing. No pain, no tears, no anguish. The last thing he felt was something slippery slipping down his throat.