Dark World: Collections Time

Series - Dark World: Dark world is the collection of stories that are far more violent then the other stories and often have brutal beat downs, sadistic fights and unforgiving knock outs. Great for your looking for a fight with more gritty tones. All stories take place in the same world. 

 

Teaser: Dark World Collections Time. James owed a debt. Ben and Comhraic came to collect. Two merciless fighters. One unlucky bastard. No rules. No mercy. Just fists, blood, and a beating that refuses to end. In Dark City, some debts are paid in pain.

The open park, despite being a space of quite retreat and nature surrounded by the city, was everything but. It stank of of rust, oil, and rain-soaked trash. Plus piss, a lot of fucking piss. It was the type of park the city sunk money into so they could pretend they cared. In practice is was a place people forget about, mostly on purpose. Like much in this city, one so perfect in "law and order", darkness swallowed most of it, save for the dim flicker of a busted streetlamps casting jerky shadows across the open areas. Somewhere distant, sirens howled (when didn't they in this shit hole city?), but here, in this forgotten corner of the city, there was only two sounds. The first was that of a body hitting the ground, with a puddle of water, hard. The next, the slow crunch of footsteps on wet concrete. James, was slowly getting back to his feet, having just been thrown there by a very nasty punch. His chest, bare having already lost his shirt, was heaving, showing little sign of being able to recover. His nose was already broken, blood poured like thick ropes down his chin. One eye was nearly swollen shut, possibly even damaged beyond healing. But he, James,  still clenched his fists, knuckles white and raw, jaw tight in defiance. The fight would never go his way, but he be damned if he go quietly. Coming up on either side of him, Comhraic and Ben approached with the patience of executioners. 

It was after all, their "sacred" calling.

“You had a chance to walk away,” Comhraic said, voice like the unforgiving deadly cold, so contrast to his code name... "To simply pay up and be done with it..."

Ben cracked his knuckles. “Too late for that now little bro, we have to collect!!” He didn't sound upset at all..

James spat a wad of blood at their feet. “Come on then.”

  

It came from Ben.

A sharp shoulder charge, delivered with all the force of a charging bull, crashed squarely into James' chest. The impact sent him stumbling backward across the rain-slick pavement until his back collided with the thick trunk of an old oak tree.

THUD!

James gasped, the air exploding from his lungs as bark scraped against his bare shoulders. Before he could recover, Comhraic was already there. The first fist buried itself deep in James' stomach. Then a second. A third. A fourth. This wasn't a high school dance after all. This wasn't some teens making out. This was war on one person... and war it would be. Each punch was delivered with terrifying precision, Comhraic driving his knuckles into the vulnerable muscles of James' abdomen. He wasn't swinging wildly or wasting energy. Every blow had a purpose. Every strike was meant to hurt, to punish, to break the little bitch boy. Another blow and James doubled forward, but Comhraic caught him by the shoulder and shoved him upright against the tree. Another punch smashed into his stomach, just above the navel. James' abdominal muscles tightened instinctively, but the effort offered little protection. The force folded him forward again, a strangled grunt escaping his throat.

"What's wrong?" Comhraic growled. "Having trouble breathing?"

He answered his own question with a vicious hook to James' ribs. James cried out. Another hook caught the opposite side of his torso. Then a short, straight punch hammered into his solar plexus, sending him sagging against the rough bark, struggling desperately to draw a full breath. Ben stepped forward with a wicked grin.

"My turn."

His left fist cracked against James' cheek, snapping his head sideways. Before James could even blink, a right hook followed, connecting with his jaw. The impact sent a sharp burst of pain through his face. James staggered away from the tree, only to find Comhraic waiting. A stiff jab struck his mouth. Another caught his cheekbone. James raised his arms, trying to shield his battered face, but that merely exposed his midsection. Comhraic immediately took advantage.

THUMP! 

THUMP!

Two heavy punches slammed into James' stomach, the second landing so deeply that his knees almost buckled. James grunted through clenched teeth. Blood trickled from his split lip, mixing with the rainwater running down his chin. His stomach throbbed, his ribs ached, and his head rang from the repeated impacts. 

But he wasn't finished.

Not yet.

Fueled by rage and a desperate desire for vengeance, James suddenly lunged forward with a wild right hook. It connected. Oh shit it actually connected! His fist smashed across Ben's cheek, splitting the skin and leaving a thin red line beneath his eye. For one brief moment, everything stopped. Ben slowly turned his head. He touched the cut with two fingers, then stared at the blood staining his fingertips. He looked at James. He pondered... and then he smiled.

A moment later, he laughed.

"Cute, bro. Real cute. Before, we were just going to cripple you."

His smile widened.

"Now? Now you're dead."

Ben surged forward.

A brutal right hand caught James across the jaw, knocking him sideways. A second punch struck his cheek, followed by a short left hook that rocked his head in the opposite direction. James tried to retreat, but his legs were unsteady. Ben caught him by the back of his neck and drove a knee into his stomach. James folded around the impact with a strangled gasp. Another knee followed, striking his lower abdomen and forcing a pained groan from his throat. Then Ben seized him by the shoulders and hurled him onto the rain-soaked walking path. James landed hard. His shoulder struck first, followed by his back and the side of his head. The impact left him momentarily stunned, staring up at the dark branches swaying overhead.Rain struck his face, he blinked, the world refused to settle. Fuck. Even worse now, before James could regain his bearings, Comhraic stepped into view.

"Stay down kid."

His boot drove into James' exposed ribs.

James cried out, rolling instinctively onto his side... but Comhraic followed. Another kick struck his abdomen, forcing him to curl inward. He crossed his arms protectively over his stomach, desperately trying to shield himself from the punishment. Comhraic briefly laughed then simply changed position. A third kick caught James along the side of his torso. Then another. Each impact sent another wave of pain through his battered body. His abdominal muscles cramped, his breathing became shallow, and every attempt to straighten himself brought a fresh reminder of the punishment he'd already endured. James tried to crawl away. Almost impressively, he managed barely two feet. Ben's boot planted itself in his path.

"Going somewhere?"

James looked up, bad idea. A fist came crashing down across his face. The punch knocked him onto his back, leaving him blinking in confusion as the rain washed across his bruised features. Ben crouched beside him. Laughing again, like he only ever had two settings. Laughing and punching. 

"Come on, tough guy. Where'd all that attitude go?"

James answered with a weak, defiant swing. Ben caught his wrist.

"Fucking cute."

He shoved the arm aside and drove a short punch into James' stomach. James' body jerked around the impact. Another punch followed, striking just beneath his ribs. Then a third. James groaned, his hands scrambling to protect his aching midsection, but Ben grabbed one arm and forced it aside.

"Comhraic! You seeing this? He's still trying!"

Comhraic chuckled.

"Not very successfully."

Ben laughed and released James' wrist. For a moment, James lay there, coughing and gasping, his chest rising and falling beneath the steady rain. He was hurting everywhere. His face burned from the punches. His jaw throbbed. His stomach felt as though every muscle had been beaten into a knot, and even the smallest movement sent pain rippling through his ribs. Still, he tried to sit up. That was when Comhraic struck again. A sharp kick to the stomach knocked James backward, leaving him sprawled across the wet pavement. His arms wrapped around his abdomen. His knees drew toward his chest. The fight had long since stopped being competitive. There were no exchanged combinations now. No meaningful defense. No opportunity for James to gather himself and retaliate. Only two men standing over a third who could barely protect himself. He knelt beside James, grabbed a handful of his rain-soaked, blood-matted hair, and pulled his head upward.

"Look at me."  James struggled to focus. "I said, look at me."

Ben gave his head a sharp shake, forcing James to meet his eyes. He was still conscious. Still breathing. Still capable of feeling every bruise, every aching muscle, every miserable second of the punishment.

"We aren't done yet my boy."

CRACK.

James' head snapped sideways as Comhraic's fist connected with his jaw.

CRACK.

A second punch smashed across his cheek.

CRACK!

The third blow caught him squarely in the mouth, sending blood and saliva spraying across the rain-soaked pavement. James would have fallen, should have. Gods, how desperately he wanted to fall and have this all be over. But fucking laughing Ben wouldn't allow it. Standing directly behind him, Ben had seized both of James' arms, wrenching them backward and pinning them firmly behind his back. His powerful chest pressed against James' shoulders, keeping the battered man upright and completely exposed.

"Come on, bro. Stand up straight!" 

Ben laughed, tightening his grip as James' knees threatened to buckle. 

"Show a little respect. Comhraic's talking to you!"

Comhraic stepped closer, studying James' swollen, bloodied face with an expression of theatrical concern.

"James? You still in there, lad?" He snapped his fingers in front of James' eyes. "Hello? Anybody home?"

James managed to lift his head. One eye was nearly swollen shut, the other was.... yeah. His split lips trembled as he struggled to breathe, and blood trickled steadily from his nose. He attempted to answer, naturally nothing came. Just a weak, ragged wheeze. Comhraic smiled, very pleased. 

"Ah, there you are."

His fist drove into James' unprotected stomach.

THUMP!

James folded forward as far as Ben's grip would allow, a strangled gasp escaping his throat.

"Whoa, whoa!" 

Ben chuckled, hauling him upright again. 

"None of that, bro! You're not going anywhere!"

Comhraic didn't wait.

A second punch buried itself deep in James' abdomen, just above his navel. Then a third. Then a fourth. It just kept fucking coming. Each blow made James' body jerk against Ben's restraint. His stomach muscles tightened involuntarily, desperately trying to absorb the punishment, but exhaustion had robbed him of nearly all his strength. The violence was both glorious and disgusting. Comhraic changed targets. A short left hook slammed into James' ribs, then a right followed on the opposite side. Then another straight punch struck the center of his stomach. James cried out, his head dropping forward as his battered abdominal muscles cramped beneath the repeated impacts.

"Look at him!"  Ben exclaimed, grinning over James' shoulder.  "He's practically dancing!"

"Not much of a dancer, is he?"

"Nah. Two left feet!"

Comhraic laughed, stepped back, and examined his handiwork. James hung between Ben's arms, his bare chest heaving. Rainwater ran down his battered torso, carrying thin streaks of blood toward his waistband. Comhraic reached forward, caught James by the chin, and forced his face upward.

"Tell me something, James. Was all this really worth it?"

James glared weakly at him, no answer. Comhraic raised an eyebrow, not amused.

"Still got some attitude, eh?"

He released James' chin... then he struck.

CRACK!

A sharp right hook snapped James' head sideways.

CRACK!

A left caught him across the opposite cheek.

James groaned, struggling uselessly against Ben's grip. 

"Hold him steady," Comhraic ordered.

"Got him, bro!"

Ben spread his feet wider apart and tightened his hold, pulling James' shoulders backward until his chest and stomach were completely exposed. Comhraic looked down at James' abdomen.

"Now, where were we?"

His fist hammered into James' stomach.

THUD!

James gasped.

Another punch followed.

THUD!

His legs trembled.

A third struck beneath his ribs.

THUD!

James' head fell backward against Ben's shoulder, his mouth open in a desperate attempt to draw air into his aching lungs. Comhraic wasn't finished. He stepped closer and delivered two more punishing body shots, alternating between James' upper abdomen and the muscles along his sides. James cried out, twisting helplessly, but Ben's grip prevented him from escaping.

"Easy there, buddy!" Ben mocked. "You'll hurt yourself struggling like that!"

Comhraic finally stepped away.

For several seconds, James could do nothing but hang in Ben's arms, coughing and fighting to breathe. Then his stomach lurched... then he gagged. Ben felt the sudden movement and instinctively leaned away.

"Oh, that's disgusting!"

James retched violently, bringing up what little remained in his stomach. The rain washed the mess across the pavement while he coughed and struggled for breath. Comhraic recoiled, looking down at the splashes across his trousers.

"For fuck's sake!"

He seized James by the hair, forcing James to look. 

"Look what you've done!"

Ben wrinkled his nose.

"Seriously, bro? That's nasty."

James couldn't respond. His head hung forward, his breathing ragged and uneven. 

 

 

For the first time, Ben loosened his grip... and James immediately began to collapse.

"Oh, no you don't!"

Ben reached to catch him, but James was already slipping through his arms. His knees buckled, his battered body folding forward beneath its own weight. Comhraic saw the opportunity. So did Ben. Double fuck. Without exchanging a word, both men stepped forward, drew back their fists, and struck.

THUUUD!

Two powerful punches buried themselves in James' exposed stomach at precisely the same moment. The impact stopped his fall. James' entire body folded around their fists, a strangled, breathless cry escaping his lips. His feet nearly left the pavement as the force drove him backward. For one agonizing second, he seemed suspended between the two men, held upright by nothing more than the crushing impact against his abdomen. Then their fists withdrew. James dropped to his knees.

"Well, shit!" Ben exclaimed, staring at Comhraic with an enormous grin. "Did you see that?"

Comhraic flexed his fingers.

"Perfect timing, lad."

James crouched between them, clutching his stomach. His mouth hung open, but his lungs refused to cooperate. He rocked forward, coughing desperately as rainwater streamed from his hair. Ben looked down at him. A look of James being so sad, so pathetic. 

"Aw, come on, bro. We're just getting started!"

He grabbed James beneath one arm while Comhraic seized the other. Together, they hauled him upright. James' legs trembled beneath him. His head sagged forward, chin nearly touching his chest, and his arms hung uselessly in their hands.

"Ready?" Ben asked.

Comhraic smiled.

"Always."

They released his arms.... and struck again.

THUD! THUD!

This time the punches landed a fraction of a second apart. Ben's fist drove into the left side of James' abdomen, while Comhraic's hammered into the right. James jerked violently between them as a weak groan escaped his throat. His knees buckled again, worse than before. But before he could fall, Ben caught him by the shoulders and shoved him back upright.

"Nope! Not yet!"

Comhraic stepped forward, a vicious left hook crashed into James' ribs.

CRACK!

James twisted away from the blow, only to stumble directly into Ben's waiting fist.

THUMP!

The punch slammed into his stomach, doubling him over.

"Back to you!" Ben laughed.

Comhraic answered with another body shot.

THUD!

Then another.

THUD!

James staggered backward, arms hanging at his sides as he desperately tried to recover enough breath to defend himself. He managed to lift one hand toward his stomach.... for all of two seconds. Ben slapped it aside, like it was a baby trying to take a toy. 

"Ah-ah! No blocking!"

His right fist drove forward, connecting squarely with James' abdomen. James gasped and folded forward. Comhraic caught him by the shoulder.

"Stand up, James." He shoved him upright. "I said, stand up!"

Another punch struck James' stomach. His battered muscles tightened instinctively, but there was little strength left behind them. The impact forced a miserable groan from his throat. Ben circled to his side.

"You know what, Comhraic? I think he's getting tired."

"Aye. Terrible stamina."

"Should've done more sit-ups!"

Both men laughed, again with the laughing! As they did, James tried to step away. He moved one foot moved. Then the other. He made it barely a yard before Ben seized his arm and spun him around.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Ben drove a short uppercut into his abdomen.

THUMP!

James folded forward, coughing. Comhraic immediately stepped in with a hook to his exposed side.

THUD!

James cried out. Another hook struck the opposite side. Then Ben landed a straight punch to his stomach, sending him stumbling backward across the wet path. The punishment had become almost rhythmic. A punch from the left. A punch from the right. A brief, desperate attempt to breathe. Then another. And another. James couldn't remember the last time he'd managed a full breath. His stomach burned, his ribs throbbed, and every movement sent fresh waves of pain through his exhausted body. He tried to raise his fists. His hands barely reached his chest. Comhraic shook his head.

"That's pathetic."

He stepped closer and delivered three rapid punches into James' midsection.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Each blow drove James farther backward until he collided with the trunk of the old oak tree. His back struck the bark. His head dropped. His legs trembled. For a moment, the tree was the only thing keeping him upright. Ben approached slowly, rolling his shoulders.

"Okay, bro. My turn."

James lifted his head just enough to see him coming. Ben smiled. Then he punched him squarely in the stomach.

THUUUD!

James doubled forward, but Ben caught him by the back of the neck.

"Oh, no. You're staying right here."

He held James against the tree while Comhraic stepped closer.

"Room for one more?"

Ben grinned.

"Plenty!"

Comhraic drove his fist into James' abdomen.

THUMP!

James' body jerked.

Ben followed with another punch.

THUMP!

Then Comhraic.

THUMP!

Then Ben.

THUMP!

Back and forth, the two men alternated, each delivering another punishing blow to James' already battered stomach. James could no longer count them, not that he wanted top. He could barely distinguish one impact from the next. His head hung forward, wet hair obscuring his swollen face. His arms twitched uselessly, searching for some way to shield himself. When finally, Ben released him? James immediately collapsed. He struck the pavement on his knees before pitching forward onto his hands. For several seconds, neither attacker moved. Only James' ragged breathing broke the sound of the rain. Ben looked at Comhraic. Comhraic looked at Ben. Then both glanced down at James.

"Well," Ben said, flexing his fist, "that was fun."

Comhraic chuckled.

"Aye. But look at him."

James remained on all fours, trembling. His arms shook, his back rose and fell with each desperate breath, he tried to lift his head. Failed. Tried again. Failed harder. Ben crouched in front of him.

"James?"

No answer.

"James, buddy?"

A weak groan, which made Ben smile.

"There he is!"

Comhraic stepped beside him, folding his arms across his chest.

"Still breathing?"

"Oh, yeah." Ben nodded cheerfully. "Still with us."

James attempted to crawl forward.

His trembling arms gave way, and he collapsed onto his side, curling around his battered abdomen. Ben stood. For a moment, he simply watched. Then he nudged James' shoulder with his boot.

"Come on, bro. You can sooooooooooooo do it."

James didn't move, couldn't really anymore. He tired to speak, but nothing emerged but a faint, broken whisper. Shaking his head, Ben leaned down and examined a broken Ben. Ben then leaned closer to his ear.

"If only you'd paid up, bro, you'd be doing just fine right now. But maybe you like this, yeah?"

James' answer was a weak attempt to pull his arms forward. Ben laughed.

"Poor kid looks as good as dead."

Comhraic smiled coldly.

"Which is good."

They both turned. 

"So dinner bro?"

James squeezed his eyes shut. Rainwater mixed with blood filled his mouth, and for one terrifying moment, he thought he was drowning. He rolled onto his side, coughing violently, his entire body protesting even that smallest movement. Everything hurt, seriously no shit it hurt. His stomach throbbed. His ribs ached. His jaw felt swollen and heavy, and one eye refused to open properly. Every breath was a miserable reminder of the punishment he'd endured. But he was alive? Somehow? Yeah... being alive meant there was still a chance. He couldn't hear the two anymore, so maybe, just maybe they were gone? James planted a trembling palm against the rain-slick pavement and tried to push himself upright. His arm gave way. He collapsed onto his side again.

"Come on," he whispered to himself. "Get up."

He tried a second time, he tried fucking hard. This time, he managed to get onto his hands and knees. He could see the park's main walking path beyond the trees. Somewhere past that lay a road, passing cars, perhaps someone who could help him. A hospital. An ambulance. Anything. He only needed to reach another person. James crawled forward. Slowly. So fucking slowly. One hand. One knee.Another hand. Then a familiar voice shattered what little hope he had managed to summon.

"Well, shit! He's still breathing? And moving! Bro's begging for some more!"

James froze.

It was Ben.

James slowly turned his head. Through his one functioning eye, he saw both men approaching along the deserted park path. Their bodies were still streaked with his blood, their expressions almost offensively cheerful. Ben looked genuinely impressed.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck? Didn't we already finish this?"

Comhraic folded his arms.

"Apparently not."

Ben shook his head.

"I must've missed the email, bro."

James tried to crawl faster. His arms trembled. His knees scraped against the pavement. He made it perhaps another foot before his strength failed him. Ben walked alongside him.

"Oh, come on, bro. You're making this depressing. I'm totally gonna have sad or some shit."

James tried to drag himself forward, Ben came up and crouched beside him.

"Here, let me help."

Instead of helping, he drove a short punch into James' exposed stomach.

THUMP!

James collapsed onto his side with a strangled gasp. His knees immediately drew toward his chest, his arms wrapping protectively around his battered abdomen. Ben stood.

"See? Much better. Now you're resting."

Comhraic approached from the opposite direction, looking down at the man curled beneath them.

"Still trying to run, James?"

James gave no answer, he was rather too busy struggling to breathe at that moment. Comhraic now crouched beside him.

"That's terribly rude, you know."

He caught James by the shoulder and rolled him onto his back. James immediately tried to curl up again, but Comhraic caught his forearm and held it aside.

"Not so fast."

His fist struck James' stomach.

THUD!

James jerked around the impact, a weak groan escaping his split lips. Another punch followed.

THUD!

James desperately tried to turn away. Comhraic released his arm and allowed him to roll onto his side. For a moment, James thought the punishment might finally be over. Then Ben stepped around him.

"Hey, Comhraic. You missed a spot."

Ben crouched and delivered another punch to James' abdomen.

THUMP!

James coughed, his forehead nearly touching the pavement.

"There's one!" Ben announced.

Comhraic laughed.

"You're enjoying yourself far too much."

"Bro, I've had worse Friday nights."

James tried to shield his stomach with both arms, curling into the smallest shape his aching body would allow.He was no longer fighting couldn't. He wasn't even attempting to escape, couldn't anyway. He simply wanted the next punch not to land. Wanted to be free to throw up and be in extreme pain in peace. Ben looked down at him. Laughed. Laughed again. 

"Aw, look. He's hiding."

Comhraic crouched on the other side.

"Can't blame him, really."

For one fleeting second, James wondered whether that meant Comhraic had finally developed something resembling sympathy. Then Comhraic caught his shoulder and turned him onto his back again.

"Unfortunately for you, James, we're not quite finished."

A short punch struck his stomach. James gasped. Ben followed with another from the opposite side.

THUD!

James twisted between them, unable to decide which direction offered even the slightest protection. Neither did. One more punch from Comhraic. Another from Ben. Then a final, sharp body shot that left James lying flat against the pavement, his chest rising and falling in shallow, exhausted breaths. Ben sat back on his heels.

"Okay. Now I think he's done."

Comhraic studied James for a moment. The battered man lay motionless except for his breathing. His arms rested weakly against his sides, and his swollen face turned toward the dark sky.

"Not quite," Comhraic replied.

Ben raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

Comhraic smiled.

"Help me get him up."

Ben looked at James, then at Comhraic. Oh wonderful, simply wonderful. 

"Oh, I like where this is going."

The two men reached down. Comhraic grabbed James beneath his left arm while Ben seized him beneath the right. Together, they dragged him off the pavement. James' legs barely cooperated. His feet scraped across the wet path as they hauled him upright. His head hung forward, chin resting against his chest, and his arms dangled uselessly between his attackers.

"Come on, James!" Ben encouraged mockingly. "Stand up straight, bro!"

James made a feeble attempt, but his knees buckled. Both men tightened their grips.

"Honestly," Comhraic muttered, "no stamina whatsoever."

They positioned him between them, one on either side. James swayed unsteadily. His breathing was ragged. His eyes struggled to focus. Ben released his arm long enough to gently pat his cheek.

"Hey. James. Look at me."

James' head lifted slightly.

"Yeah, there you go!"

Comhraic stepped back half a pace, with Ben doing the same. For a moment, they exchanged a look. No words were necessary. They had the same idea. James, barely conscious of what was happening, saw their fists tighten. One to his left, one to his right. He tried to raise his arms. Stupid. 

"Night-night, bro."

Both men moved at once.

 

 

CRAAAAACK!

Two devastating uppercuts struck James beneath the chin simultaneously. His head snapped backward, his body straightening abruptly beneath the combined impact. For an instant, he remained suspended between them, his arms hanging limp. That did it. His eyes lost their focus, his knees gave way. James went completely unconscious. Limp. Ben and Comhraic stepped aside. James collapsed onto the rain soaked pavement, landing heavily on his side before rolling onto his back. As one could guess, he didn't move again. The rain continued falling, pattering against his bruised chest and washing the blood from his swollen face. Ben stood over him, shaking out his aching fist.

"Well, shit."

Comhraic looked down.

"That ought to do it."

Ben leaned forward slightly, studying James.

"He's out?"

Comhraic crouched, briefly checking the unconscious man's breathing.

"Aye. Out cold."

Ben straightened and grinned.

"Finally! Gods, that guy was stubborn."

Comhraic stood beside him. For several seconds, both men stared down at James, who lay completely still beneath the rain. Then Ben rubbed his stomach.

"So... you think our boy is finally done now?"

Comhraic shrugged. Ben glanced toward the distant park entrance.

"Because I still want tacos."

Comhraic chuckled. Oh... oh wait. Something occurred to him. Something that made his smile widen considerably.

"Actually, Ben..."

Ben turned.

"What?"

Comhraic looked down at James once more.

"I have a better idea."

 

Sometime much later that night....  

 

 

Darkness again.

The wonderful darkness of no pain, no fights, no beatings, no Comhraic or Ben, just fucking peace. James had no desire to leave, what ever this place was. But life in Dark City? It wasn't one of mercy, of joy, or forgiveness. James woke to the creak of chains and the overwhelming stench of mildew, sweat, blood and something else. Tacos? Where they seriously hitting up Taco Bell while every inch of his body was screaming in agony? His eyes fluttered, trying to channel his new found rage, but only to open to a single dangling bulb swinging above him, casting shadows that crawled like insects across the concrete walls.

Shit... He was hanging.

Suspended by his wrists, bound tight with rusted chains from a beam above. His feet dangled inches off the floor. Dried blood clung to his face and chest, and new blood dripped steadily from split skin, forming a dark puddle beneath him. His anger evaporated, no longer could James channel it, do anything with it. Why couldn't he just stay in the darkness, embraced by death, embraced by...  That’s when he heard footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Two sets. Fuck! Out of the gloom that was his constant nightmare, came Comhraic. Calm. Focused. Unmoved. Behind him, Ben, grinning and fists taped, like he was walking into a casual gym session. They both continued to wear no shirt, both clearly ready for a "intense work out".

James' heart sank. His breath hitched. This couldn't be happening again!

"Welcome back, champ," Ben said, cracking his neck. "You had us soooooo worried!"

Comhraic circled James slowly, examining him like a sculptor checking his work. So many bruises already, so much muscle tenderized, so much blood already lost. Yet more could always be done? Right?

James coughed, blood dripping from his lips. “Why…”

Comhraic leaned in, voice cold and quiet. “Because we can.”

 

Ben's right hand slammed into James' stomach.

THUUUD!

James jolted against the chains, a hoarse, broken cry escaping his throat. His body attempted to fold around the impact, but the restraints held his arms stretched above his head, leaving him helplessly exposed. The chains rattled overhead, protesting better than James could. His feet scraped against the damp basement floor, trying to find any footing. 

And Ben smiled.

"Still got some life in you, bro."

He punched him again.

THUD!

James barely reacted this time, not because it hurt any less. Because there was almost nothing left in him capable of responding. His stomach had endured more punishment than he could comprehend. The muscles that had once tightened instinctively against incoming blows were exhausted, swollen, and painfully tender. Even the slightest touch sent discomfort rippling through his battered torso. There was no fight left in those muscles. No meaningful resistance. Ben wasn't punching a strong abdomen anymore. He was striking flesh that had already suffered far beyond its limits. 

And they all knew it.

"Look at you," Ben muttered, shaking his head with theatrical disappointment. "Where'd all that toughness go?"

His fist drove forward again. James' head fell backward, his mouth opening around a sound that barely qualified as a scream. Another punch followed. Then another. More. Each impact sent a dull tremor through his body, the chains clinking softly as he swayed beneath them. Comhraic watched from nearby, his arms folded.

"He's hardly reacting anymore."

Ben glanced over his shoulder.

"Yeah? Maybe he's getting used to it."

Comhraic approached.

"No, lad. I think you've finally broken him."

For a moment, something resembling pride crossed Ben's face. Then Comhraic stepped forward.

"Let me see."

He placed his hand against James' swollen abdomen. James flinched. Such a small movement. Barely more than a twitch, but it was enough. Comhraic smiled.

"Still hurts, doesn't it?"

James attempted to answer. Somewhat? His lips moved, but nothing came out. He tried to move, nothing worked. Comhraic withdrew his hand and struck him beneath the ribs.

THUMP!

James convulsed against the restraints, his knees bending as a weak cry escaped him. A second punch landed farther down his abdomen. Then a third that made James sagged. The chains carried nearly his entire weight now. Comhraic stepped back, studying the damage with detached curiosity.

"Gods, Ben. Look at him."

Ben chuckled.

"Pretty sure we're not getting our money now."

"Not from him."

James heard them. Somehow, through the pain, the ringing in his ears, and the distant pounding of his own heartbeat, he heard every word. And he understood. They weren't going to stop. They would never stop, not is he apologized, not if he begged not if he gave them whatever they wanted. Honestly, he had nothing left to give anyway. 

They had taken his strength.

His dignity.

His ability to fight.

And now they were taking whatever remained. 

Ben stepped closer, his expression darkening.

"You feel that?"

He brought his face inches from James', speaking almost conversationally.

"That's your body begging to quit. But we won't handsome."

James tried to lift his head, again he couldn't. Ben caught him by the chin, forcing him to look up.

"Come on, bro. Say something."

James stared through swollen, unfocused eyes. His breathing came in shallow, uneven gasps. He wanted to tell Ben to stop. He wanted to beg. He wanted to promise anything, surrender anything, become anything they demanded if it meant another punch would never come. But some terrible realization had settled deep inside him. There would always be another punch. Another moment of agony. Another cruel laugh. Another reminder that his suffering meant absolutely nothing to the two men standing before him. For the first time, James stopped hoping they would let him go. He stopped imagining the hospital, the police, or the safety of his own bed. He stopped thinking about tomorrow. Because tomorrow had become unimaginable. And in the exhausted, terrified darkness of his mind, another thought emerged. His voice barely made it real....

"Please...."

He barely recognized it as his own.

"Please, just let me die...."

The thought, the voice, the sound of it, frightened him. But not enough to make it disappear. It was real now.  He didn't truly want his life to end. Somewhere beneath the terror and unbearable exhaustion, he wanted to live. Right? But still... He simply couldn't imagine living through another minute of this. Comhraic stepped toward him again.

"Really now, lad?"

Ben released James' chin.

"Oh that is just fucking adorable."

James hung motionless now. To tired to move, react, scream, yell, cry, anything. Comhraic flexed his aching fingers. 

"We should finish this, I guess."

Ben looked at him.

For once, he didn't laugh.

"Yeah."

He took a step backward, with Comhraic moved beside him. James watched through the narrow opening of his swollen eye as the two men exchanged a final glance. He understood what was coming. There would be no more games.No more taunts. No more opportunities to beg. He lowered his head. And waited. For the first time since the beating began, James offered no resistance at all. Not even the instinctive attempt to protect himself. He closed his eyes.

I'm sorry.

He wasn't sure who the apology was meant for. His family? His friends? Himself? Perhaps everyone. Perhaps no one. Ben slowly drew back his fist.

"Goodnight, bro."

...

 

...

 

... 

  

Then the air shifted.

A siren. Distant, but real..

Comhraic stiffened. Ben paused, bloodied knuckles frozen mid-air...

A second siren. Closer....

Then a voice, through a megaphone?

“We have the building surrounded! Step out with your hands up!”

James for his part did not believe the brief broken sounds that manage to beat the pain and make it to any level of understanding. He was not this lucky, he would not be saved, he would die hanging here, no longer James but simply a meat punching bag.... 

Comhraic snarled. “Mother f- Who called the fucking cops?”

Ben shook his head. “Must’ve heard the screams from bitch boy here. Typical.”

Footsteps, this time running. Down the hall. Flashlights. Was James now in a fever dream? Was his body so broken, it could no longer see proper reality? Was life but a illusion to begin with?

Comhraic grabbed Ben by the shoulder.  

“We’re done here. Go.”

“But—”

“GO.”

They vanished into the shadows like ghosts, how and where, James would never be able to recall. Seconds later, two officers burst in, with guns drawn, but faces quickly twisting in horror as their lights landed on James, dangling like a broken marionette.

“Oh my god,” one of them whispered.

“Get EMTs now!” shouted the other.

James hung there, eyes barely open, blood dripping from his chin. He didn't know if this was real or not, but either way, the darkness would take him again. Hopefully this time he wouldn't wake up at all... or if he must, may it be in a better place. 

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