Moonless - The Eternal Night

Bitten

Orion

Time passed by Orion. He could barely hold it back, barely even orient himself. As much as he had fought against his body, against the pain, the unconsciousness, just to be aware of every second of being enslaved, sold, branded - it took its toll.

A costly toll.

Unconsciousness. Sleep. Pure exhaustion.

He wanted to hate himself for it. In those moments when his mind surfaced, from the depths of himself, not enough to shatter the surface, to anchor himself firmly in the here and now, but he couldn't muster enough of himself.

His anger. His unyielding will. His determination.

They were paralyzed by the all-encompassing exhaustion.

He became aware of being moved. Tried to scream at himself, shake himself awake, whatever was left there.

Open your eyes.

Come on.

By the dawn, come on.

Wake up.

Fight.

But nothing happened. The surface didn't break. Didn't let him back in. Shut him out. Even as he thought of his men, that they needed him. That he wanted to see them again. Had to. Even then. Nothing. He couldn't. It wasn't working.

I can't. Not anymore.

Is this all, boy. A branding iron. Slave shackles. And that's it? Are you going to become a pet now? A damn blood slave?

Despite his father's voice echoing in the unconscious depths, reality slipped away from him. The strength. Everything.

He had failed. Lost. Was nothing more than a slave. Than cattle. Food.

For an undead.

Even the contempt towards himself further exhausted him. The harsh thoughts directed at him, his inability, his stupidity. The fact that he had become hard while a vampire's eyes were on him.

How could he ever forget it? How could he ever look another woman in the eyes? Lyra?

How could he ever feel like a man again?

You're not a man. No woman will ever take you. Unless for breeding more vampire pets. Because that's what you are. Flesh. Just waiting for them to take what they want. And there's nothing you can do about it.

Nothing.

He stubbornly tried to ignore that voice in his head, not his father's, not his own fighting spirit, but something else, something that pressed against him, squeezed him together.

Outside of his own head, his new, small hell of thoughts that wouldn't let go of him, kept reminding him of what had happened, what was lost, it continued.

Time simply flowed past him, mercilessly, bringing movements that caused dull pain, bringing voices, so distant, it was nothing but incoherent murmuring, occasionally it even brought light, before his closed eyes. Then it brought something to his lips. In his mouth.

Wasn't there a gag?

Something seeped into him. Fresh and clear and cold. He wanted to spit it out. Didn't want to be poisoned.

But his body swallowed. Sucked up every drop. Dehydrated. Burned out. A brittle groan escaped him.

Orion was so thirsty. Even hunger didn't matter. He was completely dehydrated. Brittle. And the water was like a gift from the sun itself. It didn't give him the strength to wake up, to fight, or even to free him from the delirium of pain, terror, and darkness.