09-14-2019, 08:20 PM
[align=center]
Garbled words filtered through the terror like crackling voices from a beaten phonograph, softening into a distant hum as his attention focused on the memory at hand. His drenched fur clung to his scrawny frame, fragmented ribs jutting up against his skin and visibly shifting with every fearful convulsion. Exhaustion quelled his fitful struggles soon enough, the energy to fight abandoning him to pant and sputter blood with his chest heaving. Flat on his back, he could distantly taste the old blood of his death rising in his throat like coppery bile. Albeit drained, the boy still wriggled beneath Moth, his irregular shift of shoulders and kicks no longer supplied with any strength. He wouldn't give up that easily; he wasn't going to let anybody hurt him again. You're helpless. His lip seemed to quiver at this unspoken truth, beginning to cry anew. Somewhere in the haze clouding his mind, Beck listened to himself in disgust. Was he really that pathetic? Yet once the dam crumbled, he could do little to stop the years of bottled waterworks from spilling forth. At least the mental anguish flooding his senses distracted from the pain splitting his underbelly and chest.
Pressure pinched around his nose, earning a tearful grimace as fractured cartilage clicked beneath the weight of Selby's paw. On deeply-rooted instinct, his scarred mouth opened to suck down a gulp of air, desperate to stanch the burning ache in his lungs -- only for his friend to cram borage down his throat, its sweet taste clashing with the bitter tang of his blood. Beck gagged to no avail, his breath hitching. What did Selby do to him? Jaws snapped forward in anger, the skin of his teeth catching the sawbone's paw, too late to inflict as much pain as he currently found himself engulfed in. A low growl replaced the sobs previously wracking his form, his dampened expression darkening before he worked himself up into a frenzy once more, emotions dulling his thoughts like a blade cut one too many times. His phantom paws found themselves curling around Moth's wrists, claws sinking in as his grip tightened like twin constrictors before he tugged every way imaginable in an effort to free himself. Whether her flesh would tear and bleed under his grip or not, Beck stubbornly persisted until another took her place. The smell of roast peanuts managed to hit his nose through the tar-like blood slicking his lower face, catching his attention while the demon secured his arms. A hiss of pain escaped through gritted teeth, but he could do nothing more than feebly squirm as time passed and the sedative herb took its effect.
His movements were lulling into a sluggish daze, his eye half-lidded and muscles unwinding. A figure approached, blurred by his myopic eyes and the tranquilizer. With the last of his awareness, Beck kicked a hindleg into where he believed Red's gut to be before wrenching his arm from his grip in the moment of distraction, swiping down at the figure's face with splayed claws. It would be easy to subdue him after the final outburst, his body falling limp as the borage thwarted his erratic consciousness. Agonizingly slow minutes ticked by as the poltergeist countered the drug as best he could, twitching occasionally. His breathing refused to completely relax into its labored pace as he wheezed and whimpered with a leaden weight crushing his shallow chest. An oh-so familiar darkness encroached his vision, turning his sight into a fuzzy tunnel he couldn't reach the exit of. Blown pupil flitting up to the rainy sky, his jaw slackened, allowing a pale tongue to poke past blue lips. A death rattle lodged in his chest, Beck found himself mumbling to the heavens, last words to an ignorant god echoing for the present to hear. "I... I don't wanna die... don't wanna die." Speech slurred and thunder relentless, his hoarse voice was swallowed by the din of the area. The boy slumped like a ragdoll in Red's arms, an oozing ribbon of black dripping from his mouth and nose and onto the demon's skin. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would wake up to realize everything had been a nightmare after all.
Pressure pinched around his nose, earning a tearful grimace as fractured cartilage clicked beneath the weight of Selby's paw. On deeply-rooted instinct, his scarred mouth opened to suck down a gulp of air, desperate to stanch the burning ache in his lungs -- only for his friend to cram borage down his throat, its sweet taste clashing with the bitter tang of his blood. Beck gagged to no avail, his breath hitching. What did Selby do to him? Jaws snapped forward in anger, the skin of his teeth catching the sawbone's paw, too late to inflict as much pain as he currently found himself engulfed in. A low growl replaced the sobs previously wracking his form, his dampened expression darkening before he worked himself up into a frenzy once more, emotions dulling his thoughts like a blade cut one too many times. His phantom paws found themselves curling around Moth's wrists, claws sinking in as his grip tightened like twin constrictors before he tugged every way imaginable in an effort to free himself. Whether her flesh would tear and bleed under his grip or not, Beck stubbornly persisted until another took her place. The smell of roast peanuts managed to hit his nose through the tar-like blood slicking his lower face, catching his attention while the demon secured his arms. A hiss of pain escaped through gritted teeth, but he could do nothing more than feebly squirm as time passed and the sedative herb took its effect.
His movements were lulling into a sluggish daze, his eye half-lidded and muscles unwinding. A figure approached, blurred by his myopic eyes and the tranquilizer. With the last of his awareness, Beck kicked a hindleg into where he believed Red's gut to be before wrenching his arm from his grip in the moment of distraction, swiping down at the figure's face with splayed claws. It would be easy to subdue him after the final outburst, his body falling limp as the borage thwarted his erratic consciousness. Agonizingly slow minutes ticked by as the poltergeist countered the drug as best he could, twitching occasionally. His breathing refused to completely relax into its labored pace as he wheezed and whimpered with a leaden weight crushing his shallow chest. An oh-so familiar darkness encroached his vision, turning his sight into a fuzzy tunnel he couldn't reach the exit of. Blown pupil flitting up to the rainy sky, his jaw slackened, allowing a pale tongue to poke past blue lips. A death rattle lodged in his chest, Beck found himself mumbling to the heavens, last words to an ignorant god echoing for the present to hear. "I... I don't wanna die... don't wanna die." Speech slurred and thunder relentless, his hoarse voice was swallowed by the din of the area. The boy slumped like a ragdoll in Red's arms, an oozing ribbon of black dripping from his mouth and nose and onto the demon's skin. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would wake up to realize everything had been a nightmare after all.