Putrid Pride

She was still, her body forfeit to the trauma her head had endured. Shock gripped her, eyes distant and clouded with some far away memories. Or nightmares. Either rang true. The brute pushed his way into her view, though blurry and unfocused as it was. He was a shadow overhead her, and still she gave no reaction. Not even to his words, or the manner in which he stepped over her and began to raise her hips to his waist— and then nothing came of it. He left her to rot.

In her haze of semi-consciousness, Absinth felt both heavy and as light as a feather all at the same time. Pain and numbness. The same cycle over and over, and it felt like eternity— until a voice reached her near deaf ears with desperation.

They called her. Called her to answer. But could she? Her breath hitched in her throat, why? Her body shuddered as a familiar presence entered her space, her beaten down and bloodied space. She didn’t want them to see her like this. Who was it? She blinked once, twice, limbs curling in on herself as she moaned in pain. Her teeth gritted, shifting her head as though it would help— but of course it didn’t. Her nose dribbled more blood as she moved, her side bleeding profusely with every breath she took. Absinth tried to focus her vision, seeing a figure before her… red, gold, comforting golden eyes.

“N-no…” She spoke, her voice weak as she struggled to stand. Her limbs were weak, unstable and untrustworthy. Still she fought to raise herself off the ground, to not appear weak in  his eyes. She knew who it was. Aresenn. She didn’t want him to see her so broken down. Get away. Don’t look. Don’t.. But Absinth wavered in her attempt to stand fully, her body lurching forward to fall.


wormwood