Prologue

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Prologue

WHACKKK!!

Blood trickling down his back. He gasped at the pain spreading through his spine. He knew he couldn't escape, both from the continuous pain and the fear of the shadow swallowing him whole. He always tried but nothing changed. He cried, begged, knelt. Everything that he could do to escape the pain.

WHACKKK!!

Another hit from the belt stroke his body, slashing the flesh on his back. More blood running down. The damp cold room secluding his cries from the outside world, making his pray for his pain to go away been muffled down inside the darkness of the cramping, stuffing solitude.

WHACKK!!

He closed his eyes. He knew no matter how much he told himself to just rest in the bliss of unconsciousness but still, his body didn't listen. His eyes, his fingers, his legs, all alive and well known to the pain searing into the depth of his fragile skin that had been cut open every time the cursed whip hitting him. His body was trembling so badly, both in fear and in ruthless pain.

WHACKK!!

He felt kind of lightheaded. His head fell, hanging low in between his tied hand that was placed high up above his head, hooked into the hanging anchor-like rusty metal situated in the middle of the metal cage he was in. His vision started to spin around.

WHACKK!!

His midsection suddenly hurt so badly and he knew what it means. If not his life, the life that was growing inside him was in danger and it was his fault. His fault for not staying strong for the innocent life he tried to protect all the five months he knew it was growing inside him. The new light was what he called it. He tried to move but his hands didn't budge any one bit from the hook that had been making him hanging onto it with just the tip of his toes reaching the ground.

WHACKK!!

He closed his eyes. Panicking was something he'd done before and it would never give any effect, neither bad or good so what he could do was hoping. Any little hope that he had inside his heart, he prayed for it, for him to be strong enough to go through the test he'd been through. Sweat trickling down his head.

WHACKK!!

He jerked forward as the whip slashing his already messed up back. The pain was nothing to compare with the pain crippling through his midsection. He was about to scream but he knew it would only prizing him of another punishment for his unacceptable behavior. It was not like he never done something that made him deserve punishments. He always did everything wrong. From the day he was born, who he was, what his status, which class he was preferred to, everything, from his own existence, he was always in fault. Always. He didn't deserve to live, he knew it, they always told him but because they were kind and merciful, he was given a chance to taste a life. He was grateful of that, truly grateful but he didn't understand why. Why they hated the existence of the life inside him. Was it a sin to be alive even when someone as filthy like him was the one bearing the innocent child.

WHACKK!!

He bit his lips, biting so hard that he could taste the coppery taste of blood with his tongue as his lower lips bled. He started to lose consciousness. He was grateful of that but deep inside his heart, his limitless mercy took sympathy of the one inside him, knowing if he lose his awareness of the real world, he would fall into a deep sleep with no one to protect the unguarded child inside him so he stayed strong even though his legs already went limp, forcing him to depend all his body weight onto his hands that were still hanging on the hook.

WHACKK!!

He closed his eyes again. His body jerking wildly as he tried to open his eyes back. He felt something trailing down his thighs. His eyes dilated in exchange of adapting to the dim light in the dark room. He looked down, focusing, and saw a pool of blood forming as he knelt on the floor. He knew he was not strong enough to hold another hit so in panic, he looked around, on the old wooden bed with only one thin mattress and the old rag as the blanket with no pillow, he turned towards the closed metal door, knowing it was locked seeing no one unless the beholder of the pitch black whip that was now decorated with the thick dark red blood trickling from the tip of the loose leather. He was alone with zero hope of having anyone, someone to save him except for the man behind him.

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