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Old 05-18-2016
Seheren's Avatar
Seheren Seheren is offline
Legendary Hero
Join Date: Oct 2009
Location: Iowa (UTC-5)
Posts: 972
Rep Power: 135
Seheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant futureSeheren has a brilliant future

Self-worth. Pride. Purpose. Things of great men, both good and evil. For even those that spread Strife and Tyranny must in ways be respected. What happens then to a Man that is stripped of these things? Ruined of pride, and robbed of purpose… He is no more than a desiccated husk. No longer Human, but a pitiful creature capable only of hiding within it’s own emptiness in the darkest recesses of it’s mind. Hiding in the bottom of a bottle, or the point of a needle…

Why…? The question clawed above the swirling maelstrom that raged inside his head. Spinning wildly as it threatened to drag him back into darkness. Why don’t you just die already…? He groaned as a dull ache throbbed through his body. Ready to retch as his stomach turned with each breath. As the darkness in his head faded, feeling began to slowly creep back into his extremities. The chill of wet muck left behind a numbness in his legs and side. The pungent odor of chickens and days old food pierced his nostrils. Where am I this time..? He grumbled to himself as he tried to open his mud caked eyes.

Light. Movement. He hadn’t even heard the people and animals around him… He lay in a thick puddle of muck just steps from the busy thouroughfare. His eyes couldn’t focus to keep up with the movement, and as his vision spun his stomach lurched in protest. Still sprawled out in his puddle he retched violently.

“Get up, you filthy drunk!” Came a commanding voice followed by a sharp prod in his ribs. “Up. Now!”.

The voice was joined by another; nasal and grating. “Look at ‘is eyes. Bet he don’t even know who he is.”

“Get him up!’ The first voice ordered. “If he can’t walk, drag him to the pen!” Before he could react rough hands jerked him from the muck. He could smell the onions and ale on the man’s breath, the foul odor brought up what bile was left in his stomach…

“Agh!” The grating voice shouted. “He retched on me vest!” as abruptly as he was jerked up, he hit the ground. As his head sunk into the muck a boot crashed into his face with a wet crunch. “You filthy gutter rat! You’ll get it fer that!” the grating voice shouted as blows hammered the man’s torso.

“Alright. Enough!” The first voice commanded. “Get him up, Bremmer.”

“Yes, Sir..”Bremmer replied. Quickly following orders he hoisted the man to his feet. “Puke on me again and I’ll sew your damned mouth shut..” he growled into the man’s ear.

Drug more than not, they made their way down the thoroughfare. Hardly able to even open his eyes, the man couldn’t see where they were taking him. When he did glimpse the world around him, it was as if looking through a jug of water. His vision swum and spun. His legs defied him with each step. Had he anything left in his stomach, he surely would have heaved it on Bremmer again. It felt as though they walked for miles, but with his mind dulled the man couldn’t know… Each minute felt as an eternity for him as he was drug on.

Eventually, they stopped. Men spoke and shouted orders, but he couldn’t make out the words. He was too tired… It was all just noise. Nothing real. He heard metal scrape on metal and felt himself fall. He crumpled to an old stone floor covered in loose straw that stunk of piss and shit, but it was better than walking. His stomach heaved, but all that escaped was a wet gasp. Men spoke just outside the cell, but the man couldn’t comprehend. As he laid in the filth and looked up to the ceiling, darkness crept in from the edges. He heard the beating of his own heart in his ears, and then the world was darkness...

Last edited by Seheren; 05-19-2016 at 12:41 PM.
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