Page 34 of Kingdom of Rot & Ruin
“This shouldn’t take long. Vession is away for the night. We’ve taken care of everything. Good bye, bastard boy.”
It didn’t take long; perhaps only ten minutes to break every bone in my body they could. It felt like hours, though, as B and his friends systematically dragged me out of bed and beat me until I was sure my kidneys were bleeding out of my ears.
Luckily, they were stupid, and didn’t know where to aim to take out any vital organs. It was the only time in my life I’d thanked the gods for mud boy ignorance.
They left me broken on the floor, and I held my breath and kept still to sell it even more. I waited an agonizingly long time, pricking my ears for the slightest sound to ensure they’d gone down to dinner or even to bed—time didn’t exist in the stuffy depths of my little closet bedroom.
When I judged it as safe as I was going to get, I flung out my hand, placing it flat down on the floor, cool to the touch under my palm. Agonizingly, I dragged myself forward.
I didn’t think about my injuries.
I didn’t think about anything except what I had to do, or I wouldn’t be able to do it.
I had to do another ritual: one to increase my stamina. Or healing. I wasn’t sure. It was hard to piece thoughts together, but I’d have to figure something out.
Doing a ritual in this state was stupid and would likely kill me.
But if I didn’t, I was pretty sure I’d die before morning.
Kill them all. Kill them slowly. Make them feel the same pain you feel.
The anger kept me going while hatred gave me strength.
The first drag took everything out of me, and I’d only made it a few inches. I stuffed the urge to cry down far inside of me until nothing existed but a disassociated numbness.
I threw out my other arm, and grunting, dragged myself forward another few inches.
I’d only made it a quarter way to the door.
“No, no, no, no, no…”
Tears dripped down to the floor, utter desolation takingover. I was exhausted after moving just a few yards. There’s no way I’d make it.
Footsteps clicked down the hallway. Too many to be Vession, and too measured to be boys.
Fireguards.
Either my salvation, or something much worse.
I closed my eyes and went still, ready to accept my fate.
L was in the lead, flanked by three others. By the look on his face, I knew it wasn’t to rescue me. Not this time.
“It’s ok,” I croaked. “You tried. Others tried harder.”
He winced, but nodded to the others. They picked me up none-too-gently and took me off down the hallway. Every step rattled my bones and jarred my injuries.
“Queen’s orders. I’m sorry.”
A dark laugh escaped my cracked lips. Apologies were all I’d gotten from anyone lately. They meant nothing.
“Are the archives all right? Were the scrolls saved?”
He shook his head.
Bitter disappointment and regret burned at my insides. The archives were damaged and many scrolls were destroyed—because of M. I refused to take the blame. I hope B turned on him and bashed his brains in.
The queen was likely blaming me, and was going to use this moment to sentence me in front of her entire court as the embarrassment she wished me to be.
