To The Bone

He could hear footsteps surrounding him, even in his glimpses of the blurry dark, he could see things shifting in his vision. It didn't matter, he didn't care. Until he did. It was wearing off...

Garand's dopey eyes suddenly shot open, wide and alert... and dreadfully aware of the pain.

His carelessness in this numb state had put him in a bad situation. He was surrounded by individuals of which he did not know, their purpose for swarming him could have been anything, however, the fact that he still lived was even more curious.

Garand wouldn't take his chances, and upon becoming conscious enough to see straight, he dragged himself back and away from these strangers. There was a metallic shimmer as he pulled his stiletto from under his cloak. He pointed it directly at the closest person he could see as he shimmied backward, the pain in his mangled leg slowly growing. If the pain wasn't enough to panic him, the light slowly moving in from afar put a rasp to his stained breath, groans of agony escaping his mouth as he made haste to get himself to the wall. Upon doing so, he propped himself up against it, the light was almost upon him. He pulled a wad of his cloak into his mouth, biting down hard, before taking hold of his leg and twisting it into the correct position.

CHKKCKK

The scream that followed was almost loud enough to pierce eardrums. He didn't hold back at all, the cloak leaving his mouth as his screams turning into sobbing, and then into youthful whimpering. He failed to hold back the tears, which poured down his face and washed away old blood and dirt. He clenched his teeth to quell the sobs, before looking up at the man holding the torch, his weapon still tight in his grip.