Ideal Pet

The young boy shivered, fear curdling in his stomach. The first punch had caught him unaware, his shoulder ringing, a dull throb setting off like a gong in his head. He fell hard on the floor, a bolt ramming up through his butt as he sat, and his breath caught in his mouth. He was afraid for his life, that the next blow might unravel him. Panic flared in his heart, and huffing heavily, he scrambled to his feet, cowering and quaking. But to no avail. The second punch caught him off guard, his assailant sneering now, and he flew ten feet back to the floor. This time, his caked lips touched the cold, hard concrete he had been standing on previously, a lover returning to his beloved, his place destined to the floor. This time, his whole body jarred, blackness flashing around his eyes.

He blindly stumbled around, his vision blurred, his muscles a groaning mess. His hands clumsily covered himself, a pathetic attempt to shield him from the danger, as his mind threatened to shut down. Forgetting the danger ahead, he gently laid himself, a wounded deer, preparing for the final blow, swift death. Suddenly pain exploded in his exposed belly, biting and tearing his gut apart. His eyes cracked, and he glimpsed a boot swinging out of view, its soles as deadly as the enemy itself. The young boy braced himself, tears springing out and forcing through his eyes, his face scrunched in dread, his nerves screaming for it to end. It never came.