Page 120 of Degradation
Nausea seeps through my veins. Adrenaline surges with it.
I tear at the fabric, forcing my damaged limb to work, and like a bird released from its cage, I find my hands have some semblance of freedom.
I claw at the mask, my teeth gnashing wildly against the leather restraints. I grasp at the edges, while the coarse material burns against my skin, but with one final desperate pull, I fling thing off.
Air rushes into my lungs like a long-lost lover, invigorating, electrifying. Pure fucking bliss.
My fingers tremble in the wake of my liberation, the raw sensation flooding my senses like heroin. But this moment of triumph is fleeting.
The sound of the door opening slices through my euphoria.
The doctor steps in, his white coat stark against the muddled grey of my surroundings. I see him approaching, butall I can think of is the primal urge surging within me, the untamed beast that threatens to spill forth.
But why should I stop it? Why should I hold back? They treat me like a beast, they act like I’m a monster.
Well, if it’s a monster they want, then that’s what I shall give them.
I roar, a feral sound that echoes off the walls and sends a smatter of goosebumps along my forearms.
The thrill of violence surges through me as I charge full pelt.
The doctor’s calm demeanour crumbles into shock as I leap. My senses sharpen, the air infuses with a metallic tang.
It paints the walls. It illuminates them.
I taste salt and iron, the sharp tang of blood bursting forth beneath my frantic assault.
A sense of ecstasy cascades over me as the warmth spreads, flowing like a dark river down my chin, feeding the insatiable beast within.
More. I need more.
More blood. More violence. More…
I shudder,blinking, burying the memory of what I was, what I am.
The sound of my heartbeat echoes in my ears, a rhythm that matches the pulsing urgency of my thoughts.
I can feel it, the beast, wanting to get out, needing to.
He calls to me, he screams in my head, he whispers so seductively and a part of me knows if I give in, I will become everything my brother believes me to be. And yet, would that be such a bad thing? Would it?
My hands flex, my heart thrums in my chest as I see the vehicles coming up over the brow of the hill.
It’s always moments of silence that bringthisout in me. Always moments when it’s quiet and still that I get a chance to think.
The dust kicks up behind the vehicles, the heat beats down and the ground around me is so baked it feels as hard as concrete. It hasn’t rained in weeks. But I can see the storm clouds on the horizon, I can feel it in the air. Something is coming. And if that isn’t prophetic, then I don’t know what is.
Beside me, Malik shifts his weight. His eyes bore into the trucks as if he thinks this is some sort of trap.
When they come to a stop, he doesn’t move, he stands still as a statue, glaring.
“Devin.” Noah grounds out as he practically jumps from the first vehicle.
His face is etched with scars, his body looks aged far beyond his years.
I incline my head before he clasps my hand and brings me in for an embrace.
“It’s good to see you, brother. Damn good.” He mutters.
