Monday, September 3, 2012

Captive


I was hanging upside down.

This was the first thing I noticed when I groggily opened my eyes.  I was still in Azraal's office, but I seemed to be hanging from the ceiling in the approximate center of the room.

The second thing I noticed was that my feet were in extreme, excruciating, blinding, unbelievably crippling pain.  I realized that I was hanging from some kind of meat hook that Azraal had mounted on the ceiling, and he'd impaled both my feet on it.  A thin trickle of blood was running down my face, up my cheek, and into my eye.  I blinked, but that didn't help much.

I initially tried to make any kind of movement to free myself, but I quickly realized that my arms were bound uselessly at my sides and even the tiniest squirm sent fresh jolts of pain from my feet all the way down my body. 

I heard movement from the corner of the room.  Azraal approached slowly, drinking a thick red liquid from a shot glass.  I was pretty sure it was my blood.

"Oh, good, you're awake," he said tiredly, stopping to stand a few feet in front of me.  I was hung low enough that I had a good view of his ribs.  Straining to see his face was both difficult and painful.  "I've just been finishing off this glass of Giles blood.  Now it's your turn to drink." 

He picked up another shot glass from his desk.  It contained a small amount of what I assumed was his blood.  Once I drank it, he would assume my title and my powers and I'd be just another hopeless human in the merciless cavity of Hell.

Now what?

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