Chrys earned a hiss from Niegel for taking advantage of his wound before he earned himself a slug to the face. An uncomfortable groan surfaced from his throat. White spots came into his vision, and he fell into disorientation. The hit had shaken his brain up, making it crash into the sides of its delicate bone vessel. A switch was flipped internally for him. The control he had exercised over his body crumbled, and he laid theretrying to recover. He pressed hishand against his gut so that he wouldn’t bleed out. As much as hewanted to fend for himself, his bodywas running out of fuel and shuttingdown.<br/><br/>A gurgle of torment was elicited from him when Niegel began to agitate him roughly. Much to his surprise, he felt the pressure forcing him into the dirt release as the winner of their bout rose to his feet. Chrys was yanked to his feet in one powerful tug; if it weren’t for the hand holding onto him, he would’ve collapsed once more. His sense of balance was more than unsteady, and the haste of his rising was more than he could handle. His aggressor growled at him with the ferocity of an bloodthirsty lion, and advised him firmly to put pressure where he was bleeding.<br/><br/>You don’t need to tell me, Chrys thought. His thoughts came out of his mouth in a rasp soon thereafter. Staying alive was his only priority now that running was no longer an option. Niegel told him to move, but he instead dug his bare heels into the stinging ground. “No,” Chrys roared. The tone that came out of him was desperate and unstable. The thought of returning to the RV terrified him more than being left outside. While outside he’d be exposed to the elements and whatever secrets the wilderness hid from his eye, it was still a better prospect than being with someone that was eager to hurt him in all the ways that he could.<br/><br/>The effort was futile. For each second that he delayed his dragging, the strength of Niegel’s grip on his elbow increased exponentially and was accompanied by rigorous shaking. The quaking would trigger a button in him that made the resistance in his legs give way. Even so Chrys kept making the effort. Like somehow if he kept making the effort, the result would miraculously change.<br/><br/>“No…”<br/><br/>“No…”<br/><br/>“No…”<br/><br/>He parroted the words to give him the strength to keep going. It worked, until it didn’t. There was only so long that Chrys could run on empty.<br/><br/>It was a gradual decline. First his reaction to tripping became more and more delayed, until he finally slumped to his knees, and his thoughts rolled together into a cluttered jumble. His eyes saw the world in a haze. He was aware of his mouth opening and closing, tongue tumbling around in his mouth. It was lost to him whether or not he was still telling Niegel ‘no’ or if the words had been lost in his mind.<br/><br/>Further tugging by his captor only resulted in the rest of his body piling up onto the dampness of the forest floor. Niegel holding onto his arm trying to keep him up while the rest of his body went down made his spine arch unpleasantly. Beneath him, he could feel the ground’s grit digging into his arm. There was no urging him up to his feet anymore when his body had given up.<br/><br/>Niegel scooped him up into his arms when he gave up. Chrys stared at the man’s face, cloaked in darkness, with pained eyes. It hurt to know that his effort had all been for naught, and instead it had backfired on him in the worst manner; incapacitating himself. Both of his arms he nestled on top of his gut to keep pressure on his wound. More than anything his body wanted to drift off into the lull of unconsciousness. But of his agony and his own willpower did Chrys remain conscious. At the very least there was a bit of good; in the darkness, he could try and pretend that he wasn’t returning to certain doom in the hands of the person who embodied that doom. That the person who was carrying him was actually trying to help him.<br/><br/>Eventually, they returned to the accursed RV. The interior was as cold as the exterior of it. Niegel ceased cradling him like a newlywed bride and plopped him nonchalantly onto the floor with an audible thud of his own flesh against the RV’s chilling floor. Chrys could tell that the surface was icy, but he stopped shivering halfway to the RV. That was when his body had given up further and stopped trying to warm itself up. He could do little more than stare up at the ceiling and wonder whether or not the ceiling was white because it was white, or if it was white because he was dying.<br/><br/>It seemed an eon had passed in a minute when Niegel returned. In that time Chrys had curled, but not by much. His view shifted from the ceiling to the man beside him when he heard the clunk of metal. It was a box, and when opened it revealed the sterile makings of a first aid kit. Before Niegel started pulling out anything, he removed the blood drenched shirt that Chrys had ruined in his escape by pulling it over his head.<br/><br/>“Stupid…” his kidnapper muttered. Running had only served to be a minor grievance for his abuser, and a speckle of him was pleased. The rest of him wasn’t pleased.<br/><br/>Once the obstacle had been removed, the man began dabbing at his wound with antiseptic wipes and bits of gauze. The slight burn of the alcohol reactivated some of his responses, and Chrys tried to swat at the hand that was close to him. Niegel made a feral rumble that told him to stop being fussy. He was fumbling with a needle and thread, since the hand Chrys had managed to slash was haphazardly mummified in fabric.<br/><br/>A leg was thrown over his chest, pinning him against the ground and stifling some of his willful actions. His center was riveted in place but not his extremities, and with his arms he clawed at Niegel’s leg. A tremendous wave of alarm hit him when Niegel pinched one of his lacerations and began to sew him up without anesthetic or a numbing agent. Chrys began howling in pain then, his legs shifting in anguish. Having a needle threaded into the tender flesh of his belly was more than he could handle without painkillers.