Prompt Ramblings - 5. Prompt 223 - The Beast

Shawn awoke as he lay unmoving in the filthy dark alley. Rank water and dirt stained the side of his face as his body ignored all attempts to raise itself from the ground. It wasn't surprising his body wouldn't cooperate. The pain spiking through so many places was making it hard to stay awake, let alone move.

Groggily, his eyes were open and functioning even if the rest of him was not. The groceries he was carrying were strewn about the ground, the broken eggs picking off a faint glimmer from the small amount of moonlight that peaked between the buildings.

When he was pulled into the alley he recognized the three men. They were part of the vocal group protesting the LGBT center that had just opened. Shawn had told them all to fuck off before and after the police arrived to break up the group as it began to get out of control. He was not about to be bullied by a bunch of homophobes.

They had waited for him.

Shawn could smell the overpowering stench of liquor on the trio even before the first blow struck. It dropped him to the ground and they took full advantage, cursing and battering him until he prayed they would just kill him and end it all. Someone above took mercy on him and made his consciousness finally blink out.

Now that he was awake, Shawn struggled to look around and assess the situation. He couldn't focus well or see far, it was simply too dark, but there was a figure crouched over another not far from him. The figure stood and with a single hand pulled the other from the ground. He seemed so huge. An animal like growl sent a chill through Shawn as the limp man was shook like a rag doll and slammed into the brick wall with an effortless toss.

“Common garbage,” he growled. The voice sounded almost inhuman, but that could have been the swaying senses Shawn was dealing with.

The body on the ground caught a sliver of moonlight. Shawn could recognize the gaudy tee-shirt worn by one of the trio. It was spattered in blood and he didn't appear to be breathing.

Even with all of the pain coursing, Shawn could feel the touch of hands drawing up his prone leg. Fear skittered his spine like insects as he could hear the distinctive sound of being sniffed. The standing figured whirled and ran towards him. Shawn wanted to scream but the sound gurgled in his throat. The figure kicked out and with a grunt and a fleshy impact, the weight at his legs was suddenly gone.

“Don't touch him!” the figure snarled.

“Why not, Rath?” the second voice hissed out. The large figure named Rath shifted and crouched along Shawn's side, his pose creating a wall from the other voice. The impossibly thick limbs of the man's lower half that he could see were covered in soft leather that threatened to burst the seams.

“This one is not food,” Rath warned, “You can eat the other three. This one is mine.” Shawn could feel an enormous hand touch his thigh. It slid back and forth gently and without malice. It was the first contact that didn't make Shawn want to scramble into a corner.

“But he's broken. He's only good for food now. Even you can smell that.” Sethus's voice sounded like multiple snake hisses overlapping each other. That and his comment was unnerving at best.

“He can be fixed, Sethus.”

The response was laced in hostility. “He's a top-worlder. He doesn't belong. She will not fix him.”

“She will. She has no choice.” Rath's voice was confident and proud, but confused Shawn over its unnatural timbre. Like with Sethus, there was something not right about the sound, but was composed of growls rather than hisses.

“What could you possibly want him for? He's so small.”

Rath turned towards Shawn and while he couldn't see the man's face, he stopped breathing when he moved close enough to see the man's arm in the pathetic excuse for light. Disproportionate muscles pushed to the surface of pale skin that were covered in raised markings like brands. They weren't random; there was order to the details. They were like runes of some kind. His hands were also larger than normal tipped in angry claws. Shawn couldn't flinch when they grazed through his hair. The touch was so impossibly delicate, it didn't seem real.

“A pet,” Rath whispered.

“You must be joking, Rath.”

Shawn could see his arm move as if he was shaking his head. “There's something about him. I don't want to leave him behind.”

“Fine. He's your burden. I won't be responsible if your stray expires before we get below world. We need to leave; we've been here too long.”

“If I don't take him, there's no question that he won't live through the night.”

Shawn could feel the tears run across his face and into the wetness that continued to spread under him on the ground. He prayed it was simply water beneath him. His breaths were shallow and raspy sounding and the world was sounding farther and farther away. Panic was setting in. If Rath left him here, no one would ever find him before he died.

With a single arm, Rath lifted Shawn and cradled him to the expanse of his granite like chest. Shawn tried to brace for the pain of his injured body being moved, but oddly felt nothing more than what he already was. More of the pale skin appeared from under a vest of the same leather that covered his legs. More unreadable runes scrolled across his chest in ritualistic lines. He had yet to see Rath's face, but still couldn't turn his head or move any body part of his own choosing.

The only thing he could barely see was Sethus, or at least he thought it was Sethus, grabbing the bodies of two of the trio with a single hand while the other appeared slung over his shoulder. The sound of gravel dragged in the trail.

“I still say we should just eat him.”

“I would kill you for simply pretending to try,” Rath whispered into the top of Shawn's head. It was the last thing he heard before he passed into darkness again.