Nightmares and Blood
He tried to sleep, something he hasn't in a long time. It was a mistake, a very big one.
He shook and stirred violently in bed as his wounded mind began to eat at him even more. His face cringed in pain as he was dragged to his past, pain-filled event after another.
First, he watched helplessly as he was bound to a crude and savage wooden structure. Watching in the distance as bandit and centaur tortured his fellow squad mates all around him. He looked to his side, as his childhood friend, protector, brother. Screamed in agony as a hot rod stabbed his body. The bandit looking to Bryt "Tell us." he said, but Bryt could not. He didn't even remember what they wanted.
So next he watched his friend jack get gutted alive, like a animal infront of him with a rusty blade. His death slow, painful and loud. Bryt shook like a savage screaming. "JACK" over and over again as he did he best to break free. But his bindings only buried themselves in his skin, tearing his flesh asunder and causing blood to slowly flow. He continued until he was lashed like an animal and the scene faded into rage filled beast like screams. The scars on his back burned as he slept
The next was brief, it was a small calm before the storm. Bryt stood next to someones side constantly, only to be thrown away and used like a rag. That face, the name, the person. He could not bring himself to name.
Next, he was dragged to his father death bed. The man who kept the young Nathal up during all of his most vulnerable moments. He watched slowly as the life from his father slowly wilted away, and Bryt was powerless to help him.
Again, it changed. He walked home his shop on the Balthazar high road. Seeing it closed, and he lost so much that day. His original golemite, his fathers journal, his mothers Rapier. He spent three hard weeks in the streets of the reach. Mugged, pitied, beaten, attacked, made vulnerable.
The next caused him the most, being the most recent. He fell in love once again, in a vulnerable state, she had no idea how hard it was to let her in. He told her his biggest fear was losing her, like he did with everyone else he once held dear. He slowly began to change back to his old self, a more confident, bold, braver man. But then it changed.
He was once again tossed aside, used like a rag for another better cleaner one. It ended just like the last which already drove the vulnerable man into a broken state of mind.
The scene changed again, this time he was alone in his workshop, his new wounds on his hands still slowly bled as he looked to a pistol custom made for him. He took it, shaking in his hand as he brought it to his head. With a bang, he awoke sweating, shaking, panting. He shook his head then looked to his shoulder, a bullet wound... He looked to his hand and dropped the gun as he saw it. His body paled completely as he began to cry again, alone surrounded by stone cold walls. "Whats wrong with me...I need to stop...I need something to distract me..." He quickly went to patch himself up. Once his nerves were calmed down he grunted and fell to the ground and begin to push himself up with his hands, over and over again. He had a desire to hurt himself for bringing himself into this pain, pain he was warned that would come by Heil, and Bryt did not listen. But Bryt did not want to die, six forbid by his own hand. But the burn he felt as he stood up and darted outside and ran around all of Kessex suited the desire for pain he had, for now this routine would continue in his time of painful solitude.