Part 50

A brave or foolish move… 
Kane awoke face down in his own blood, again. A simple attempt to move drew a low groan from his parched throat, but he managed to turn his head and blink crusty blood from his eyes.

Everywhere was still… There was just the quiet crackle from the last of the fire embers and a steady drip off somewhere in the distance.

For a while he just laid there, counting breaths, each one painful and labored.  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he found the strength to flop over to his back, with a rattle of uncomfortable chains… Then again, just laid there watching more chains swing from the ceiling with blurry sight…

“Ah… You’re awake,  good…”

A dark figure loomed into sight,  feather light touch traced circles of blood across his torso until cruel nails dug deep into a puncture wound, Kane bit his lip feeling the finger reach inside his chest a morbid violation. Then withdraw, blood pouring free.

Licking the bloody finger, Master Davenport knelt on Kane’s chest tugged his head back by his hair and forced a healing potion down his throat.

It was a cruel constant game, torture, then heal to torture again. Like the persistent loop of days and nights. Kane’s only saving grace was that he was too old for Davenport’s more perverted desires, but his lust for pain, for blood,  was just as relentless.

Kane started to count, feeling the warm glow of the healing elixir spread throughout his broken limbs…  Laid still,  counting,  waiting for fifty, Davenport leered over him,  taunting,  dribbling hot drool in his face…

Fifty! Kane pulled his arm free from the chains, which had come loose as he had lost weight, snatched Davenport,  startled,  by the front of his suit and lurched forward to headbutt him square in the nose…

 

Anne Harrison 16.03.17

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