Darkest Before Breaking Of The Dawn

Degeneration

Twenty days ago......

"What are you looking at huh?! YOU DIRTY STINKING LITTLE BASTARD!"

Rockets already strained breathing hitched in fright and alarm. Just the sound of his haunting furious voice–accompanied by the heavy sound of his approaching massive form–drew him from his semi conscious state.

His brain, despite being conscious, had been shut off. Half the time, his brain seemed to do that, leaving him in a blurry dizzy haze. Fatigued yet unable to fully fall asleep over the raging headaches and fear. His memory occasionally comes and fades selectively. At times forgetting where he was. His mood changed between fear, despair and exhaustion depending on what ailed him.

Right now his empty stomach and weak body plagued his half-conscious mind so strongly that he couldn't help where his fevered eyes had focused in on. "Can't you see I'm trying to eat in peace?! Without you ruining my appetite?!"

Instinctively his half-open blurry eyes gazed in the opposite direction. But hearing he was already caught staring, he rolled over onto his side with a heavy groan. He moaned as what little weight he possessed flipped his sore internal organs over to sink and press against the side of his broken ribs. Already being jostled out of place by the hard unresisting cold floor beneath.

Not to mention the painful weight that was placed on his dislocated shoulder. Everything hurt so badly that he had done everything possible to remain still. To both avoid pain and avoid pissing off the scientist still holding him hostage.

It was really a miracle he moved at all. His fur and raw skin stood on end, when he heard the quick approach of his tormentor beside him. His raw eyes squeezed shut–feigning sleep and inoffensiveness–and yet he was left gasping for air when a man's foot crashed deep into his sore empty stomach.

"I'M TALKING TO YOU RODENT! Don't think I didn't NOTICE your BEADY LITTLE RAT EYES wondering where they SHOULDN'T!" The next kick was delivered at his already sore throat, and he choked, coughing rawly for air.

"I'M TRYING TO EAT IN PEACE AND HEAR YOU ARE, A LAZY NO GOOD FOR NOTHING LITTLE SLOB GAWKING AT ME AS I DO IT!"

Another kick was delivered at his lower back–his already damaged and swollen lower back. It sent his body flying violently flat on his face. He cried out loudly in excruciating pain, sobbing for breath and mercy at the same time, while his broken raw ribcage heaved against the hard cold floor it lay against.

Weakly his head barely managed to rise up from the hard ground. But that was about as much movement he could muster. He didn't even have strength to crawl anymore, much less any other instinct to defy him. Up until this point, he had been paying too dearly for it. The end result now was he could barely move. Let alone breathe, though he was somehow managing too. He couldn't even muster the strength to look all the way up except for his shoes.

"Nn–(cough, cough)–no please I–I was only–I wasn't–uhhh." His wild stuttering for mercy was interrupted as another sharp pang stabbed at his already sore gut again. A heavy churning gurgle was heard and Rocket knew what it was. The ache in his empty stomach persisted with an agonized growl.

"Ahh–you're hungry." Came the sinister comment lacking all empathy as usual. "So THAT'S why you were staring, you useless little freak of nature.

(No Shit). Rocket thought silently and sorrowfully to himself–but only to himself. Never openly to him–never again. He couldn't stand more pain than he was receiving. But he truly was so–so very hungry. Pitfully, he could only clutch his empty stomach, made all too apparent with his rib cage sticking out.