Kean stood on the hard and moistened ground, his outworn boots had multiple holes on their soles. He thought that the lair sure had a lot of water inside if even the ground is covered in a small layer.
His socks were slowly soaked in the small drops of the yet unidentified liquid, he felt as his feet started to create a squishing sound as he took each step.
It had a faint echo to itself, it was as if the sound was trying to form words, as if it were a person, or maybe just a personality. Sound or not, it didn't matter since trying to tell anyone that their squeaking wet socks sounded as if they were trying to talk would only make everyone think he went crazy the second he entered that unfortunate place.
It was an annoying sound that lingered in the lair, an echo that was so loud that it couldn't be overheard and also not ignored.
All three of them were nervous about what could wait for them past the darkness which surrounded them. It certainly wasn't an instant death, it would be torture, but the question lay on what kind of torture it would be.
The people and the work, the guards and the exhaustion. Every single thing was a deciding factor in their life span while being the labour-working slaves of the Flesh Hunters.
"What a pathetic sight. You incompetent slaves, just standing around with your eyes peeking out!"
One of the guards had taken a torch and lit it with his aspect, he directed the newly flamed light to the newcomer captives.
They themselves hadn't noticed it, but they had just completely stopped moving once the light reflected itself on the walls and the floor. Levyn, Jhon, and Kean were absolutely terrified by what they saw. A cold sweat ran down their faces and dropped on the floor, the small splashing sound of it was well heard.
Wh..what is th—
Kean, who needed some time to get used to seeing, found the sudden switch from darkness to light was too unexpected and caught him off guard.
His eyes didn't completely perceive, but his brain had already. As his sight slowly regained its focus, he could feel his chest tightening up, his stomach swirling around, and his throat preparing itself.
His fear had overtaken him, and with all his strength he turned his body around. Facing the other direction, he tried to run away, but since he had been mostly soaked in blood, it made it much harder for him to move in a controlled manner.
I want to go back! I don't want to be here!
His mind jumped to a not-so-distant memory, but it was quickly interrupted when the guard hit Kean with the end of his spear in the face.
The guard slammed it so hard onto him that the sound of the impact echoed across the dark corridor for almost a minute.
The sudden blow of force startled and frightened Kean to the very core, his whole body was shaking stronger than it had been before. His heart beat so fast and strong that he felt every single movement, it was as if something had been trying to rip its way through his skin and bones.
The guard who hit him stood there silently without even flinching, he stared down at Kean with a look that didn't show pity or remorse, it was more something like disgust.
Kean had tried his best to remain strong and contain his tears.
He started to weep.
And again he was hit by the blunt part of the spear in the face. By then his nose was surely broken and bleeding from the deepest part within.
He kept on tearing up and trying to force his body to move so he could escape from there. But after every small and single attempt to move, he was hit repeatedly in the face.
Again and again and again, over and over.
No matter how much he was struck, he still kept on that pitiful attempt. He had turned himself into the victim, created the first impression which would surely get him tormented and killed later on.
The bandages that he had from the village were still on his face, dirty, bloody, and almost torn apart. They kept on shredding after the wood scraped on them. They fell apart and revealed his beat-up face.
A broken nose, eyes red as his blood, swollen cheeks, cuts, and bruises on his new and disgusting mug. He looked like a deformed and malnourished creature, he was as puke-bringing as the whole environment.
I hate this, I hate you, I hate it all. I hate it, hate it, I HATE IT.
While all that occurred, Jhon and Levyn were standing still, just watching it all happen without even thinking once about interfering.
"HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA"
A faint laugh was heard by Kean, a laugh that only showed the amusement someone could have in seeing another one being brutally pummeled to the ground.
Jhon worriedly tried to comfort Kean.
"Please calm down! Nobody's laughing at you."
He softly whispered to the guard:
"I will remember your face, and when I find you alone on a corner with no way to go, I will carve the skin off your face, I will drain you of your blood and dignity!"
Of course, he had no strength in him to say that out loud, and even if he did, he lacked the courage. Telling the guard that would only get him beaten up more. If both of them kept on going like that, they would reach a point where they saw Kean as worthless and would throw him out to the animals, maybe even hang him on the walls alive.
Kean had finally stopped resisting, denying the truth that was just in front of him, beaten into him. Something he had to face if he wanted to stay alive as long as possible.
It was obvious that the guards were overly irritated by his aggravated act.
They could be seen resting their hands on their facepalms for a few seconds, taking deep breaths, and positioning themselves around him so as to grab him.
Jhon covered his mouth with his right hand while carrying a distressed face. Sweat ran down his face and along his fingers.
His pupils dilated because of the stress, which awakened a kind of fight-or-flight response to the intense situation that unfolded in front of him.
But even though his mind responded in such a way, his body didn't, it denied any attempt to do something hasty. All Jhon was able to do in the end was flee the sight by turning his gaze the other way.
He had started to stare at the wall while still intensely listening to the blowing sounds, the groans of agony, and the forceful impact of the spear on Kean's body.
He felt worthless because he was unable to do anything, his fear kept him from letting his instincts take over.
And all he could think about were the words that repeated in his head.
I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
A tear started to stream down his face, it exited through his left eye. Not only did he look away, he also shut his eyes to stop himself from accidentally looking back and forth. In the end it didn't really help him much, all it did was create images of what could possibly be going on in front of him. In his imagination, he saw Kean just laying there on the moist ground taking a beating for being human.
After a while, the guards had actually stopped their cruel act, they put their spears aside and prepared themselves to drag Kean further inside.
They picked him up by the collar of his shirt and then separately grabbed one arm to carry him, they were using so much strength that it seemed like they cut off his blood circulation in his arms.