if he had to guess, arnon assumed at least a week had passed since he was dragged back kicking and snarling into the undercroft. the hunters that had captured him had spared no malice, ensuring he was handed over bloodied and beaten, his abilities nullified and his pride reduced to mere tatters. he’d gathered what little energy had remained to make himself as much of a nuisance as possible in the first few days, his defiant streak burning bright even if it resulted in harsh punishment each and every time. with the previous night’s beating still aching through him and the suffocation of his accelerated healing thanks to the collar fastened around his neck, arnon laid dejectedly on his cot, his tired gaze fixed to the ceiling as he wallowed in self-pity and muted frustration. the sound of others going about their days around him was of little comfort. if anything, it renewed his irritation towards the circumstances. so many of them were trapped in the confines of the undercroft, the illusion of freedom only manifesting through the allotted hour of wandering or being summoned by one of the callous masters to demean and debase themselves for their pleasure. the injustice of it made arnon’s jaw clench in subdued anger, his desire to rid the world of the plague of the vampiric elite burning ever brighter the longer he dwelled on the thought. huffing, he forced himself to sit upright and caught the eye of another in the doorway, his misplaced irritation focusing solely on the innocent passer-by. “what? you need somethin’? keep it movin' if not.”
@krovscastlestarters
