#((god fukcing))

The shock of the first blow hits you like a wave. The sensation of a foreign object, alien and cold between your ribs. Then, they pull back their arm and the brass knuckles leave your side. The wound is open and exposed to the air. It hisses at you. Screaming. Hot, fiery, and unbearably itchy. It’s not long before you’re stuck again. This time you go black for but a moment, and then stars and cosmoses fill your vision. They strike your face again. And again. And again. Your mind and body are tired and sore now. Your limbs simultaneously refuse to respond and scream at you to run! Flee! Defend yourself! But you don’t; you can’t. And your assailant is merciless. They shatter bones and break the skin repeatedly; leaving swelling and bruising marks all over you. Eventually they stop, but you don’t know when. You can’t recall. And as the shock wears off, you lie on the ground, slowly becoming delirious from the pain and the loss of blood.