That which does not kill you, will probably try again later.
Rokushima Taiyoo - 5 years ago
The large Rokuma man wiped his face and took in a large breath. He got right in Vichan's face and screamed at him for several minutes. Vichan didn't understand what his captor was saying, though the word Gaijin came up repeatedly. Some type of insult, most likely. The man finished his tirade, then stood back and narrowed his eyes.
"If expect me to answer, is vasting breath. Nu understand vords."
There was the clink of metal and the chain whip struck across the back of his legs. He dropped to his knees and choked down a cry of pain. He went deep inside his mind, imagining himself outside his body, seeing the pain as an outside observer.
Vichan spat a mouthful of blood on the floor. "Is no pain."
The jailor made a snort of disgust and gestured to the man holding the chain whip. Again, he was hit. And again. His body was a mass of agony and fought to hold on to consciouness. He spat again. "Keep hitting. More times, strike, closer get to death."
He wanted to die. He'd been in this prison for six months with no one to speak with, but the jailors screaming at him in their foreign tongue. He had nothing, no home, no family. He had fled Barovia, seeking to escape the slaughter that had killed his wife and son. He ventured out into the dark, traveling hoping that Old Night would swallow him up.
Instead, his wandering had led him here. Some outlanders newly coming from the mists had theorized that they had died and Barovia was Hell. They were wrong. This was hell. Here in this pit were the damned and he was one of them.
