It's what always happens. What always comes next. You misbehave, and you get something for it. You get a fist upraised, a mark across the cheek - a darkness to bruise that rosied hue. Violence, violence, violence...it's the only language that creatures like them truly understand. The only language that will put children like them in line.
The only language they know how to speak with any fluency.
Hot prickles in the corners of their eyes that causes them to bite their tongue (big kids don't cry) and the staggered, muted, near-silent hiss of air between their teeth.
They land heavily in the dirt. Where the dead things crawl.
Breath rasping, lungs pinching. Get up, get up. Stand. Get up and get moving, and stop pretending that it hurt. You're going to sulk now, is that it? You're going to pitch a tantrum over it?
Stop lying around and do something.
Spin around.
Get onto your knees.
Slam the makeshift blade into the guard's ankle with the hot crunch of muscle and bone.
(Your ribs will crack next. When the knife slips in easily, unresisting, that will be your reward. That, and the long, lonesome trek up a mountain from which travelers never return.)
cw allusions to child abuse
The only language they know how to speak with any fluency.
Hot prickles in the corners of their eyes that causes them to bite their tongue (big kids don't cry) and the staggered, muted, near-silent hiss of air between their teeth.
They land heavily in the dirt. Where the dead things crawl.
Breath rasping, lungs pinching. Get up, get up. Stand. Get up and get moving, and stop pretending that it hurt. You're going to sulk now, is that it? You're going to pitch a tantrum over it?
Stop lying around and do something.
Spin around.
Get onto your knees.
Slam the makeshift blade into the guard's ankle with the hot crunch of muscle and bone.
(Your ribs will crack next. When the knife slips in easily, unresisting, that will be your reward. That, and the long, lonesome trek up a mountain from which travelers never return.)