Oh sorry, yeh my bad,
ok this is one of my best works but it's a rewrite of a previous story from Short Stories I, got a lot of good feedback last time, just until I write a new one.
Lazy Day-
Cark looked down focusing on the reflection of his face cast in the puddle, he touched his mouth with his gentle fingers, his mouth had been completely stitched shut, one of the few successes, he was just happy that he didn’t have his eyes stitched to, he was forgotten and no one remembered him that’s how it had been for as long as he remembered, no one used his walkway anymore anyway, not even the passing fleech, how he wished for one to come and put him out of his misery, every time he worked up the courage to move to another path he simply looked at a suppression orb and it fizzed out of him, in the half light that he had so accustomed his eyes to, he saw a figure stalk towards him, he looked eagerly at it and raised his arm to a wave dropping the soulstorm bottle that had failed to lift him.
The creature had red eyes or eye from what it looked like and it glowed, it did not raise its arm back and Cark’s smile faded away like his dreams, the slig pushed its body into the dim light cast by a broken lamp, it turned from Cark and swayed his head before slipping his baton from its holster, Cark still did not no what was going to happen, he was happy for the strange creatures company, Cark tried to speak before remembering his curse of lost speech, what he did do was make a strange muffled hum, he advanced towards the slig who by now had his baton ready, he walked forward and smashed a blow across Cark’s face knocking him to the floor a sensation ripped through his body much like when he stubbed his bare toes only it was stronger, Cark winced and gripped his face, a red stream slowly trickled over his hands, he stumbled to his feet and tried to run but the slig caught him over the legs and sent him reeling, Cark landed hard and stretched his arm towards the slig, looking for sympathy, he saw no remorse, the slig yanked his arm up and continued the beating, eventually Cark grew tired and his body lazed itself of life, he dropped to the floor, the stitches had been beaten from his lips and now he finally spoke, “friend”? He asked feebly.
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Oh yeah, fair point. Maybe he was just tortured until he lost consciousness.
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