Page 32 of Corrupted Torment

Even Rafferty and his manipulations are better than this.

Damn my stubborn arse.

Hindsight is a fucking bitch. I can’t change anything now as he inches forward. His foot falls impossibly silent on the leaf strewn ground. I match him step for step, but he’s on me before I even fully turn. He staunches my attempt to run before I ever had the chance.

I should have known this monster would never let its prey escape. My aching head crashes into the muddied ground, but I can’t let the pain phase me as the man atop me cackles. I kick my legs out and try to turn to gain any purchase. My goal is to stand, but my feet slip in the squelching mud. Rainfall has been upon us for weeks and the result is destroying any hope of my escape.

A piercing pain tears into my side like sharp claws, straight through my clothes into my flesh. He must have a weapon. I have nothing to fight him back with. I can’t even get to my damn feet. Another stab has me letting out a startled yell. The flashing light and darkness contorting my vision makes me realise that the hit to my head may have caused a concussion. My mind whirls with agony and hopelessness. Laughter roars through my ears as this monster enjoys his tormenting game.

He leans further over my frame, his body a tonne of bricks, crushing my battered one. His weight pinning me down easily, despite my desperate struggles. He leans on one elbow, staring at my face, his eyes as dark as pitch. Soulless. My body stills as he rocks his groin against me. Devon smirks, knowing I feel the hardness of him rubbing against me.

“You’re not as pretty as some others. There’s one little delicacy I would really like to sample. He keeps evading me, has his bodyguard protecting him. I’m a simple creature. I’ll fuck anything really. So long as they hurt. As long as they bleed.”

His fingers caress my face, and I let out a shuddering breath. It’s too similar to his touch. He bends down, his lips touch my ear, his whispers.

“You know what’s most fun. When I see the light in their eyes fade to nothing as I pound my release into their bodies. Nothing is as powerful as that. If only I was allowed off my leash more often.”

I want to vomit, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Already he’s told me something he probably shouldn’t. Devon’s not allowed to kill me. Whatever happens tonight—and at this point, I know something will happen—whatever despicable, insidious thing he does to me, I will live. I just need to stay in one piece.

I don’t make a move, don’t even blink. Maybe that is what enrages the demon? Letting out a snarl, he grabs hold of my lengthy hair, long fallen from its tie. Viciously, he pulls my head up, then slams it down repeatedly into the dirt beneath us. The squish of the mud cushioning the blows. It’s not enough to sate his frustration as he stands, lifting me by my hair. I slip in the mud, trying to get to my feet, feeling the tugging sensation of my hair being ripped out from the roots.

I twist, pulling and kicking out at him, freeing myself. I flee, ignoring the chunk of hair ripped from my scalp. Desperate and fast, I go, knowing it’s futile. But I have to try all the same. Caked in mud, blood still pouring from my injuries, and the swirling concussion clawing at my head from multiple blows, I run on.

Smacking into a pillar of stone, one that grips my arms like vices. How the fuck did he get ahead of me? A shove pushes me back to the floor. I crash back onto my side, wincing at the pain from the tearing wound there. I shut my eyes briefly, squeezing them, before I rip them back open. Desperately trying to orientate myself.

His booted feet walk calmly towards me, and I try not to let the wrenching agony I’m in deter me. I need to stay strong. As he walks with slow, torturous steps, I must pass out for a second. I don’t see the kick that comes swiftly smashing into my face. Blood gushes down my nose, the echoing crack shuddering through my ears. I shakily raise my arms to cover my face against another blow, curling my body up as small as possible. Against the volley of kicks thrown at me, it’s not any kind of protection.

I’m weak, pathetic. Snot and blood oozes down my face as I let out howling cries of agony. It’s not until he speaks that I know a dark, cunning saviour has come for me.

“That’s one of my group, Devon. Leave him be.” I didn’t think I’d ever be happy to hear that conniving bastard. Yet, I don’t know if I’ll be alive after tonight if I stay with this man. No matter what leash he’s supposed to be on.

“Beat it, Rafferty. It’s my plaything for today.”

He kicks me in the ribs once more. I try to keep my eyes open as I cough violently, my chest aching. That time might have a broken rib; shit, I hope it’s not a punctured lung. I give in, closing my eyes even tighter than before, clenching my teeth against the writhing pain, unable to focus on little else. A growl penetrates the air. Much more beastly than man, I try to look but find I can’t.

Violence permeates the air, the sound guttural and tearing, but all too soon I’m lost to the darkness of my mind.

* * *

I awaken to a fire blazing, my body roaring out as much as the embers. Every part of me aches. I suppose this is karma for believing I could do this alone. The dancing flames burn away the darkness surrounding us. Me and the man who saved me, the one I owe my life to, the one I’ve always hated with a scorching fury.

From the other side of the fire, Rafferty watches me with his head tilted to one side like a damn dog. His expression is almost curious as our eyes meet. I’m the first to look away. Guilt gnawing at me for thinking the worst of him. He owes me nothing, yet still, he came and saved me.

It makes me wonder what kind of life he’d had growing up, to decide he has to help us. Maybe he’s not the snake after all, or perhaps he still is. I just forget about the devil who puts that snake on his path.

I groan as I try to sit, my every muscle and bone protesting at the movement. Immediately, he’s by my side, pressing gently on my shoulder to make me lie back down. I’m so weakened, I can’t even push against him.

“You need rest. Go back to sleep, I’ll get you back to camp in the morning,” his words are less scornful than I had expected, his tone almost void of all emotion. I know he’s right, but I don’t want to rest when he’s here. Despite him helping me tonight, it still could be a play he’s trying. Then again, my head is so muddled. Shit, should I be sleeping if I have a concussion anyway?

“I need a drink. Can’t do that on my back. Plus, pretty sure I’m concussed and shouldn’t be sleeping.” I can’t seem to shut my mouth. It must break something in him too, at the exasperated look he gives me; his grey eyes are full of frustration as he drags a hand through his shaggy hair.

“Look, kid,” Raff growls. Who the fuck is he calling a kid? We must be the same age, a year’s difference at most. He shuffles closer, raising my head as carefully as possible to his knees, a canteen in hand. He tips water into my mouth a little at a time as he speaks. “I checked you over. You’re not showing any symptoms of a serious head injury. You may have a concussion, but you’re okay to rest up and sleep. I’ve cleaned you up best I can, but I don’t have any bandages. I got you into shelter so you can rest. Now get to sleep so I don’t have to carry your stubborn arse the entire way back tomorrow because you’re too physically exhausted to do so.”

I notice for the first time his torn t-shirt showing under his open uniform jacket, long strips of missing material. He must’ve used that to both bandage and clean me up. The cloying mud I’d been covered with is no longer coating my skin.

Looking around, we’re in an unfamiliar cave and it almost makes me laugh. As a kid, I would’ve thought they all looked the same, but not anymore. As gently as he did before, he cradles my head back to the ground, my thirst quenched.

“Solomon, my name is Solomon.”