The Substitute Healer (BL)-Chapter 103: ‘No… not… not again…’

Elias struggled weakly beneath the attackers’ relentless blows, but his body had long since reached its limit. Every attempt to push himself up only earned him another strike, another crushing weight forcing him back down.

Soon, he could no longer even lift his arms. His face was swollen and discolored, his left eye bloodshot and barely able to open. Blood clung to his split lips, and every breath rattled painfully through his chest. He looked less like a man now and more like something discarded and barely conscious.

Not far from him, Soren was being dragged across the frozen ground by his shoulder with his heels scraping uselessly against the snowy ground as they hauled him beneath the wide, looming shade of the oak tree. The numb cold seeped into his skin where his robes had shifted, and before he could even steady himself, they shoved him down roughly with his back striking the ground with a dull thud that knocked the air from his lungs.

"S... Soren..."

Elias’ voice came out hoarse and barely audible, more breath than sound. He then forced his head to turn towards Soren direction with every inch of movement sending sharp pain through his skull just to see him and just to make sure he was still there.

But all he could see was Soren on the ground, small against the towering figures surrounding him while trembling as rough hands grabbed at his clothing.

They began tearing his robes away without hesitation.

Soren twisted, fought and pushed, anything just to get free. His fingers clawed at their wrists and his shoulders was jerking violently as he tried to pull away with panic flooding every movement.

"Ugh, let go of me!" he choked out as his voice was shaking when he struggled against them.

The attackers only laughed softly among themselves with their smirks widening as they watched him resist. Their eyes gleamed with a disturbing kind of interest, roaming over him as if he were something to be inspected and to be enjoyed.

When Soren shoved one of them again with what little strength he had left, a sharp crack split the air.

A hand struck his face hard enough to snap his head to the side.

For a moment, even the others paused.

"Hey! Don’t damage his pretty face," one of them scoffed while clicking his tongue in annoyance. "What a brute..."

He shook his head with exaggerated disapproval, as if the violence surrounding them was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

They were distracted if only for a moment.

And in that moment, Elias lay there, unmoving... but not defeated.

Beneath the pain, beneath the haze clouding his mind, he gathered what little strength he could, focusing inward. Slowly, desperately and quietly, he began to mend what he could of his shattered body while forcing warmth through his muscles that refused to respond, stitching fragments of strength back together piece by fragile piece.

But his eyes never left Soren.

Never.

’No... not... not again...’ The scream echoed inside him but his throat refused to obey. His lips parted and trembling, yet no sound came out, only a strained breath that dissolved into the cold air.

’Please... don’t do this to him...’ His fingers twitched weakly against the frozen ground helpless while watching and waiting for his body to obey him before it was too late.

"Fuck this... I’m losing interest." One of the men clicked his tongue in annoyance while wiping his hands as if already bored with the scene. "Do whatever you want, but make it quick. We leave before anyone shows up and ruins it."

He then turned away, moving toward the edge of the clearing like none of this concerned him anymore. It was the same man who had slapped Soren with his indifference now somehow more suffocating than his violence before.

"Tch... fine," another one muttered with a crooked grin. "You can be the lookout then. Don’t fall asleep, haha."

"How dare you!"

"Oh, come on. Can’t you take a joke?"

"Just hurry up and do your thing," the lookout snapped, not even turning back. "Or I swear I’ll leave you all behind."

Then, a brief pause followed before someone spoke again more casually, as if discussing something trivial.

"But what about the other one?"

They meant Elias.

A glance was thrown toward where he lay crumpled on the ground while he’s barely moving and breathing.

"What else?" another replied with a shrug. "We’ll get rid of him. But first..." his lips curved slowly, cruel amusement glinting in his eyes, "...he can watch. It’ll be damn fun, I guess."

After saying that, a low ripple of laughter followed. The words settled heavily in the air while pressing down on Soren’s chest until breathing itself felt painful.

For a moment... he struggled.

His hands trembled where they were held down. His body tensed with his instinct screaming at him to fight, resist and to run or anything. His heart pounded wildly with desperation clawing up his throat but then,

His gaze shifted weakly toward Elias who was bloodied, broken, unable to move and something inside Soren... quietly gave way.

What could he do?

Fight... and they would kill Elias first.

Resist... and they would only make it worse.

Run... and make things worse.

No matter what he chose... they would both still die and that realization hollowed him from the inside out.

The strength drained from his limbs like warmth leaving a body in winter. His hands stopped struggling and his shoulders slackened and even his breathing grew shallow like he had forgotten how to hold himself together.

His eyes lost their focus... then lose their light.

When their hands touched him again, he did not push them away.

He simply closed his eyes with tears slipping quietly from the corners while sliding down his temples into his hair as his chest trembled with silent sobs, the kind that made no sound, the kind that came from somewhere too deep to voice.

Not resistance or acceptance.

Just... emptiness.

And somewhere nearby, the cold wind moved through the trees while carrying away the last fragile sound of Soren’s breaking heart.

The cold reached him before anything else did.

It seeped into his skin from the frozen ground beneath him, sharp and merciless while spreading slowly through his back, shoulders, down to his limbs. The earth was hard and unforgiving while pressing against his bones as if reminding him over and over that there was nothing between him and the world anymore.

No warmth and cover.

Just nothing.

The air moved freely across his bare skin, touching places that had never been exposed like this before. Every faint brush of wind made his body twitch, not just from the cold, but from something deeper and unbearable.

He felt... seen.

Not in the way a person is noticed.

But in the way something is displayed.

His robes had been torn away and tossed aside without care, discarded like scraps like he meant nothing more than that. And now he lay there while completely exposed beneath the open air, with nowhere to hide and no way to make himself smaller.

His arms tried to curl inward out of instinct, to shield what little he could but even that small attempt felt useless. There was no dignity left to protect, not anymore.

’What else can I even do...?’ The thought came quietly, almost numbly as he lifelessly stares at nothing while trying to capture Elias’ figure just past the people around him.

’It’s not like this is the first time...’ Then, a bitter heaviness settled in his chest. The only difference now... was that he had tried to resist. He had tried to fight back and tried to protect what little pride he still had clinging to him.

And for what?

His trembling gaze shifted weakly toward Elias who’s bloodied, motionless and barely breathing.

The sight hollowed him out from the inside.

’He was beaten... because of me...’ His chest tightened painfully as he now tearing up quietly.

’If only... if only I had someone I could call for help...Would things have been different?’ That question crept into his mind hopelessly.

Other than Elias... who did he have?

His thoughts searched desperately for anyone who might come if he cried out.

But there was nothing.

No one.

No one waiting and willing.

No one who had ever truly stood beside him without hurting him in return making his throat tightened.

’Not a single person...’A tear slipped silently down his temple while disappearing into the frozen dirt beneath his cheek. And above him, their mocking and humiliating voices continued as if they were admiring an object rather than looking at someone who could still feel every word like a wound.

"Wow... what a body..."

"Look at that waist... is he really a man?"

"Obviously. Just look at that dick!"

"Still... he looks so delicate... almost too pretty..."

Soren’s stomach twisted painfully as their gazes felt heavier than hands.

Dirtier.

Like something crawling over his skin while leaving behind a feeling he could never wash away. He wanted to disappear, to sink into the cold ground beneath him and vanish where no one could see him like this who’s reduced to something to be examined and talked about.

A moment after, his fingers curled weakly into the ground.

He couldn’t even cover himself.

Couldn’t even turn away and pretend this wasn’t happening.

All he could do was lie there while trembling against their touches, feeling smaller and smaller with every passing second until the world seemed to shrink into nothing but their voices, eyes, and the unbearable weight of his own helplessness.

And somehow... the cold biting into his skin hurt less than the humiliation settling deep inside his chest.

’I... I just to want this to end...’ he thought while closing his eyes.