Wake of the Dead | Three

Chapter Thirty-Five | Killian

Killian pressed his back hard against the brick wall, his body shaking. Gripping at a fresh wound in his already injured arm, sweat accumulated on his forehead as he closed his eyes tight, focusing on his breathing. Not again, not again! Bastards...where is Midnight? Did she run away? Is she safe? He swallowed hard as a hand wrapped around his neck, so tight he could barely gasp. No...my eyes, I can't see, I can't see!

In the darkness of night and with his bad eyesight, Killian couldn't see a thing in the dark. His body shook, he fell to the ground when the Carver pinned him down by the neck with their heavy boot. "N-no!" He protested, feeling around until he clawed at their leg, but he wouldn't do any damage through their jeans.

"Shut up!" The Carver demanded. He sounded hostile, malicious. Killian couldn't see their face to discern what they were thinking, which was possibly the most terrifying thing of his whole situation. "You got Mick in the shoulder, how about we repay the favor?" He hissed.

Killian spat at the man, when they let out a loud growl he knew he'd managed to get them somewhere. Hah, take that you dumb- his thoughts were cut off as a heavy punch landed across his jaw. His ears buzzed and even though he couldn't see, his vision was darkening even more at the edges. A large hand held onto his chin to keep his face still, painfully squeezing his jaw. He growled in response, attempting to wriggle free, but he was already out of breath.

"Calm down, Buck. Don't shoot it." It? "If you leave it with any more open wounds you infect it. They can't serve as anything with that." Whoever was talking continued to mutter, the other man's scorn was obvious in their tone. "You know that. It's already got some bad ones, we'll wrap them up and chop its arm off before it gets to the rest." My arm? Killian's stomach sank, he gagged. No, no, I can't let them! I can't survive with just one arm...I'll bleed out, I can't die, I still have to find Jasper!

A howl of anguish escaped his lips as something sharp ripped into his upper thigh, he felt the open air and immediate gushing of blood. It went through! His panicking was getting worse, his mind grew fuzzy. It went through my leg...no, not again, I need to run! How can I run with this? I barely lived through that gunshot, what's going to happen to me? What are they going to d-

Another rippled of pain ran up his leg and through his spine, all the way to his neck. A nauseating twist in his stomach made him want to keel over and vomit. What are they going to do to me? Jasper, Jasper help me! He clenched his teeth as he began to be dragged against the rough ground. Footsteps receded, they were walking away, but he could still hear their conversation. "Hypocrite, you're gonna drag it? That hook isn't gonna be clean when we get back to the slaughterhouse." Slaughterhouse?!

"Nah, we can keep an eye on those wounds. But a gunshot with those dirty bullets..." The Carver's voices faded into the background. A horse's snort and the sound of hooves dangerously close to his back legs filled the otherwise silent night.

It's so quiet now. Killian thought. Despite the pain in his leg and arm, the bumpy rocks hitting his body and battering it, dragging across the pavement, it was almost peaceful. Through blurry vision, he watched the moon in the sky, it was all he could see. The crickets chirping in the undergrowth was serene, frogs croaking, probably calling out for a mate. The mud from the rain began to coat his skin, drying and hardening after a few moments. It cooled him down. Already in the middle of the night, it was freezing. His whole body shook, not completely from the frosty air, but from fear.

They're not just going to kill me, are they? He thought. Killian remembered what the Carvers he and Stephan encountered were talking about, the insinuations of what they were known for. They're going to slaughter me like cattle and sell whatever's left to desperate and starving people. The most horrifying aspect of it was the fact that human meat wasn't exactly fresh after more than a day. They're going to chop me up, piece by piece, until there's nothing left...and they'll keep me alive as long as possible while they do it.