The Confluence

The Confluence Part II

II

When Thomas opened his eyes, he was met with pure darkness. There was a wetness spilling down over his face, the source seemed to be a dull throbbing on the top of his head. He tried to move his hands, but they were stuck. They were tied above his head, wrists kissing. He tried again, only to feel the rough coldness of metal wrapped around his hands and wrists. There was a pricking pain on his hands. He tried wriggling more, his breathing coming in ragged gasps. Suddenly a deeper pain bit into his hands, and more warm wetness began spreading down his arms. He almost screamed, but choked it down to a quiet whimper. His heart was thumping uncomfortably, getting louder and louder.

"Hello?"

He called out into the darkness. He then tried to move his legs, but they were tied down by something similar to what trapped his hands. He could hear a low scratching somewhere in the walls that Thomas assumed to be around him. Rats... He thought to himself. He always hated their bloated, scurrying bodies, heaving with disease. He could already almost hear their little screeches as they swarmed and fucked and ate.

A large trapdoor in front of him was thrown open with a bang. Light spilled out behind the frame of a man. "Oh, thank the lord somebody's here!" whimpered Thomas, still recovering from the shock of seeing the trapdoor open and snapping him out of his thoughts. "You gotta help me mister! I think somebody trapped me here..." The silhouette stood still throughout Thomas's blubbering.

He wriggled again, only to have pain bite into his hands, even deeper than before. He gasped, then craned his neck to look at his hands. The indirect light cast his body and surroundings into a dreamlike bluish purple dimness, and what he saw there made his heart jump into his throat and his bladder loosen. His hands were wrapped in barbed wire, it's wicked edges digging themselves deeply into his wrists. Blood was streaming down his arms in black rivulets in the dismal light. His eyes slowly worked their way down, bulging with pressure. The white collar work shirt he was wearing was dirty and ripped, stained with what looked like mud and blood. His legs were held down with barbed wire that had been nailed to the floor. The skin felt too tight around his skull, and what he had for lunch was threatening to come up out of his mouth.

He turned his now frantic gaze to the person watching him, and he noticed something he had overlooked before. In the stranger's hand was a nail hammer. He could almost sense him grinning as the fear destroyed the last vestiges of rational thought. "Fuck fuck fuck oh fuck! Oh you miserable fuck! Lemme go! I wanna go home!" Even to himself, his voice seemed high and whining. He started slurring, and his mouth felt numb and thick, like after a rough day at the dentist's. The shadow of the man started forward, thick boots clumping on the floor. Thomas began thrashing his legs, only to have the barb wire punch through his khakis and into his soft skin. He started screaming, "Help! Somebody help me! Please, anybody, help!" His ears were buzzing with blood pressure, and everything sounded as if heard from underwater. Despite his screaming, despite everything, he heard the shape whisper and mutter "I offer nourishment, I offer blood, Sa-Dis, Fa-Kaos. In your eternal names, I give you this life. Kin! Kinta! DEVOUR!" The shape shuddered and shrieked this last, as he raised the nail hammer.

"Fuck, please! Somebody..." Was all the man named Thomas Ericsson managed to get out before the hammer swung into his jaw with terrible strength. His jaw bone snapped with a wet crunch and the left side of his face exploded in pain. Thomas tried to keep pleading, but something in his jaw had shattered and his words were lost in horrible gargles. The hammer crashed into the right side of his face, shattering his cheekbone. Thomas cried as he pissed himself. The hammer crashed again, and again, until the blackness of death swallowed him whole.