Son Of A Bitch

kill me?

The prisoner.

I heave a weary gasp, my body aching and my mind reeling with confusion. I cannot understand how I ended up in this musty, dimly lit dungeon, stripped of my clothes and my dignity. It is perhaps the cruel fate of a peasant, to be at the mercy of cruel lords and knights who care nothing for the plight of the common folk.

I bite my lip, trying to stifle my sobs as I clutch the tattered sheets of paper to my chest. As I cower in the corner, trying to shield myself from the harsh reality of my situation, I hear the sounds of footsteps approaching. My heart races with panic, and I fear for my life as a tall, dark figure looms over me.

"Do not be afraid," he says, with a heavy accent that reminds me of the foreign tongues spoken by traders and mercenaries. "Let me clean you up."

Despite his reassuring words, I cannot help but wonder if this is some cruel trick, a ploy to torment me further. As he reaches for a bucket of icy water and a rough cloth, I tremble with fear, half-expecting him to strike me down at any moment.

But his touch is surprisingly gentle, and I feel the cold water trickle down my back as he works to wash away the dirt and grime of my captivity. For a moment, I forget my fear and my sorrow, and simply bask in the cooling relief of the water.

Yet my peace is short-lived, and the memories of my torment come crashing back as he speaks of the boy who has wrought such destruction on my life."Zachary," he whisper, tasting the bitterness of my own defeat. "He's a very angry boy. He just wants things to be fair."

"To be honest, sir," I spit out, feeling the fire of my defiance stir within me. "I could care less. He stepped on my dreams, and I will never forgive him."For a moment, there is silence, as we both contemplate the weight of my words. But then he continues his work, his hands moving more gently than before, as if acknowledging the pain that I carry within me.

"Verily, he speaketh the truth," my eyes darted towards him. "Thou shalt not escape this dungeon until Martin arrives, and he'll surely sell thee off," I gritted my teeth, my jaw clenching in anger. Before long, the jailer left some parchment and a quill on the table, bidding me farewell.

But I will escape.

The next morning, I dressed and waited, the only indication of dawn was the soothing chatter of the birds. Suddenly, a light illuminated the stone halls.

"Good morrow, my lord. 'Tis time for breakfast," Amir unlocked the cell, fastening a rope to my hands and dragging me upstairs.

Lo and behold, there stood Zachary. At the mere sight of him, I yearned to cause more damage to his loathsome visage. Unlike the previous day, he wore a loose beige tunic with black Braies. My gaze involuntarily shifted towards his phallus, which the fabric struggle to conceal.He sat on the couch to feast on his stale bread and cheese while Amir handed me the same meal. Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked down at the food.

Never before had I eaten this much. I had consumed hardly anything, not through choice but rather circumstance.

"Harken, ye lads, behold the sight of a man shedding tears at his mere meal of the lowliest working class," Zachary bellowed, his voice echoing through the wooden halls.

"Tis not so!" I retorted sharply, my blood boiling. Zachary's haughty tone only served to fuel my anger.

"Then what troubles ye so, lad?" Zachary sneered, his gaze piercing me like a sword.

"Never before, have I partaken of such fare," I replied, my voice quivering with a mix of fear and indignation. Before I could say more, a sudden knock interrupted the conversation, causing everyone to bristle with caution.

Swiftly, Amir pulled on a nearby rope, signaling for me to enter a nearby closet, lest we draw attention. Zachary opened the door, revealing none other than Alexios, the man from yesterday, who had come bearing news.

"Alexios, by Odin's beard!" Zachary exclaimed. And yet, in the midst of their boisterous exchange, Alexios' eyes caught sight of me, and he hurried over, an expression of concern etched on his face.

"Who did this to his visage?" He pauses, flicking his head towards the corporate, "Zachary!""He started it!" Zachary yells.

"Thou wert being a jerk to me first," I argue.

"I am not the one who approached thee like an animal, now am I!"

"Thou did! All I wanted wast some parchment and thou couldst not even give me that! and yet thou hast decided to be a jerk!" I did not notice how we were both slowly inching closer towards each other until the butterflies in my stomach ran wild.

"I wouldst not have been a jerk if thou were not acting like a spoiled brat!" I know I should not go along with this but the way he argues. It only makes me want to argue back! I have to stand up for what I believe in.

"I wastn't acting like a brat! Thou wert! Thou hadst a grievance against me since day one! And once my father hears about this, he shall have thy head-" before I could finish, someone covers my mouth tightly. Through the corner of my eye, I saw it was Alexios.

"Would thee prefer an early demise?" He murmurs, glancing towards the deadly weapon aimed at my heart. My gaze flits back to Zachary, who quickly corrects his posture to a rigid stance, staring coldly and expressionless towards me - his only visage that of an assassin.