Wither

Instantly warm blood fell over my eyes. A stinging burn in the middle of my forehead cut through the residual morning fog. I swiped at the blood pooling in my face but every attempt felt painfully short. Though I tried as hard as I could, each attempt only stung worse.

My eyes sealed shut by my own blood, I swung wildly at whatever, whoever, had struck me. Catching one on the side of his head, much to his disapproval. Though his helmet stopped any real damage. My fist throbbed as I swung again. This time catching him in the armored gut. The bones and skin on my fist aching. Despite that I did my best to fight at least one of them off. At least until a second strike found my spine.

An uncomfortable crack came from the middle of my back. Not broken but very painful. Least he didn't stab me in the back. Tumbling to the ground I kicked at the red misty figures my vision couldn't fully make out. Any attempts to open my eyes were met with pain, blood, and another boot to the ribs. It hurt. Fuck did it hurt.

“How was your night? Did you enjoy your last one as a free man?” That voice… I knew it. I could practically feel his breath's putrid warmth. His gut barely hid behind expensive cloth from years of plundered ‘taxes’. Dipshit and his merry gang of cock suckers.

“Did you enjoy the tea?”

Another set of boots met my back and stomach. Bruises had already begun to form under the plentiful kicks. The pain felt… horrible. So much worse than nearly anything I'd felt. Worse still than the lizards nearly killing me. Worse still than when I woke and my lungs were filled with fire.

“An herbal concoction. Potent. Delicious, or so I've heard. A powerful sedative that dulls the senses and eases the mind. Surely you're feeling it now.”

The tea? The gift from the house… from Cecilia-

“What ar-” Another boot brought an end to any attempts of speaking. My stomach screamed and every second felt like agony.

“We warned you to steer clear of her. That you'd maybe live another day. You made me waste my breath, and worse, my collections are now behind.” Another boot to my back. “You'll have to repay me for each and every slight. Every time my men dirty their boots with your touch.”

Another boot, this time to my head. “Goodbye, son of man, you'll wither in the dark stone.”