He was certain he would die at this point. It was only a matter of time before he either starved to death or succumbed to his injuries. His arm had been twisted back behind him and rebound, despite it being broken and sending sharp throbs of pain through his body to the point of an aura of darkness surrounding his vision with each pulse.

For the most part, he was quiet. Most of his wounds had stopped bleeding, but with his ribs broken, it was difficult to breathe, especially sitting in the position they’d left him in. Blood had dried over his eye, making it difficult to open, and while he was no longer coughing blood, the taste was still strong in his mouth.

These White Moon senshi and knights were just as ruthless as the Negaverse, but the difference was their purpose. He still didn’t know why they did what they did, other than using this chance to hurt as many as they could for as long as they could.

Part of him couldn’t wait until the moment that he would just close his eyes and die.

[Mistress Morbid]