Born of Blood: Jack the Ripper

Torn at the Seams

"H-hurts... hurts..."

A hoarse, crying voice called out between sobs. Echoing from wall to wall in pitch darkness. A nine year old boy sat against the wall, hugging the smallest, darkest corner within the small room he lived in. Nose stinging with a vile smell, lungs filling with dust as he took small shallow breaths.

Knees tightly pressed against his chest the boy kept repeating the one word he could choke out. "Hurts... hurts... hurts..." his small balled fists tapped against his head, the noise was loud, too loud... the yelling hurt his ears, his head, it hurt... it hurt ithurtithurtithurt...

The sobbing continued as the young boy's eyes looked through the darkness of the room. From wall to wall there were scratches, almost animalistic looking, all markers of his escape attempts. As for the door... unlike the walls the door's scratches were marked with blood. Some old, looking a nasty dull brown, but more recently were the ones covered in still wet crimson liquid. He had tried again, not that long ago, but like every other time it only ended in failure. He wanted to be where the light was... he didn't want to be here anymore.

Body quivering the boy closed his eyes as if trying to escape the enclosing darkness. His balled fists unrolling, revealing chipped and broken nails. Long skinny fingers snaking their way through a field of snow-white hair. Grasping tightly he tried to curl his body more. Ignoring the searing pain of doing so. His head continued to pound, continued to scream. He pulled and pulled trying in vain to tear his head off. His movement causing him to hit the wall repeatedly.

As though someone were to knock on a wall his head kept moving back and forth. Nails digging into his scalp, hard enough to draw the slightest amount of blood. He tried to claw the things that hurt his head. Still that didn't stop it, the yelling getting louder and louder. "No...No...No!" his voiced raised in a wailing sob, he couldn't keep it quiet. They be mad but it hurt! "No hurt!" He screamed, his ailing body squirming in both discomfort and pain. He could not hear anything anymore, not the rapid banging on the door, nor the sound of his head hitting the wall only the yelling! 

"I said quiet down! Don't pretend you can't hear me!" the yelling was replaced by another voice, meekly the boy's eyes opened all before he scrambled even further into the corner, eyes filled with fear as he clawed the wall. 'Mad! Mad!' they were mad. 'No! No hurt!' If they grabbed him, the hurt would come. He knew this and so he clawed even more, the wall in front of him streaking with blood.

His attempt was quickly stopped. A large hand grabbing his wrist. The fact light had flooded the room failed to register. The boy only focused on the hand that grabbed him trying in vain to pull his arm away. His skin a sickly pale, bones almost showing through, all while bruises and brown dirtied bandages plotted themselves over parts of his body.

Back covered in vicious burns, chest covered in scars, and the flesh of his ribs tinted a strange black. Bracing his feet against the floor he pulled even greater, his chest rising and lowering rapidly. Each breath coming fast. His thoughts screaming. He didn't even see who it was who grabbed him. He only knew that he had to get away. Opening his mouth the boy bit down onto the hand holding him drawing a small amount of blood.

He succeeded and almost instantly he dove back into the corner, teeth gnashing as he looked to the figure's feet much like that of a dog. His body trembled and for a moment the pain he was in did not exist.

"Gah! You little shit!"

The voice got louder more mad. It was only then that he looked to who it was. In that instant the boy froze, tears appearing in his eyes, he couldn't breath. 'No... man... mad!' He knew the man, it was him who hurt most. His broken thoughts only giving an even greater fear. Head tucking into his arms as he fully turned pushed his head into the wall. Back showing he quivered hoping that punishment wouldn't come. But his hopes were quickly snuffed. His ankle grabbed with even greater strength he was hoisted from the corner. Clawing at the ground he again tried to escape as the grip made his pale skin turn red with irritation.