Chapter 13: Survival Of The Willful

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Chapter 13: Survival Of The Willful

Unknown Location, Unknown State...

    The rancid stench of vomit and bile greeted a newly awakened Dean Hudson as he found himself rolling over onto his side still reeling from pain and the exertion that had taken a toll on his young body. He had not known how long he'd been in this strange place but this had been one of the few times he had awoken where there had not been some strange man shoving his cock inside him. He felt his body had been severely weak and dehydrated as he attempted to get his bearings and make sense of what was happening to him. He had been shaking and had not known what had been the cause. A strange door with barely any light opened and a masked man in a worker's jumpsuit approached him with the all too familiar needle and injected it into his arm.

Dean felt the familiar pinprick and found himself angered beyond what he had ever experienced in his young life. He had been kidnapped by psychotic drug addicts who had taken him from his home and given to sex traffickers who had made money off his torment and it only increasingly made his blood boil. He already had to endure being unloved and unwanted due to the lot he had in life but to be used as a sex toy for bastards that had no right to him was something else entirely.

The fury had propelled Dean and the fear he once felt that kept him in line and docile had evaporated. There had only been hatred and a will to get as far away from these monsters as possible and as a result, Dean found himself hitting the needle-carrying prick right where he knew it would hurt before barrelling out of the open door where the light had come from previously stinging his eyes as it beckoned him to the freedom he desired above all else.

His body had still been wonky due to the drugs and sickness that filled him but the adrenaline had been more than enough to propel him as well as the overwhelming rage at his situation. He had known that these bastards would use his body until he died stuffing his veins with poison and making money off his pain and he couldn't abide by it, he'd suffered quite enough and wouldn't give them the satisfaction of stuffing his body in some ditch like he had not even been a person with hopes and dreams that they had believed themselves above him and the law when it came to attempting to steal them away.

His hatred of these pigs who got fat off the suffering of good people and lost kids had been enough to give him the will to find a way out and as a result, he had lucked up and found an exit point. He'd still been naked and trembling from whatever tremors had been running through him but the adrenaline had been more than enough. He pushed passed the last heavy door barring his freedom blindly running as fast as his sluggish legs had carried him until he took a tumble down a lone hill and rolled into a rivine.

He knew not his location nor that he would get very far, but he was determined to get somewhere. He kept running much like his mother had when she saw her chance to escape and took it, he realized how much of a fool he'd been to wait around with Clint when he should have been running himself. She had given him the example and here he had been living by it.

Dean ran as fast as his weary legs could carry him until he came upon a house with some clothes hanging on the line to dry. He slipped into the back noting that no one appeared to be home and quickly grabbed what he thought he could fit and clothed himself at last. He slipped out of the yard and put more distance between himself and the place that he'd him captive as possible not stopping until he cleared yet another far away town and passed out in an alley from exhaustion.

He had not been aware of the town nor the state after escaping, he had only known to run until his body had given out.

DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

Strange Hospital, Unknown Location, Unknown State...

Blue eyes had attempted to focus as Dean Hudson found himself in a strange hospital room with tubes hooked up to his arms as a rather critical doctor looked him over. He appeared to have been pondering in silence as he noted the lad's vitals and the I.V. that had been hooked up to his arm. The lad had been diagnosed with malnutrition, dehydration, and a few sexually transmitted diseases that fortunately for him had been the curable sort. They had also found traces of drugs in his system, heroin for one, and something else synthetic that proved to be quite a challenge.

The attending doctor had been something of a stern-looking man and past middle age as his white hair and beard indicated. His eyes had been those that had seen it all and held wisdom beyond his years despite his age. Dean had not been particularly impressed with him in any fashion, when you seen one man you've seen them all in his experience.

"I see you are awake Mr. Hudson, back among the land of the living," said the Doctor trying to make conversation. "You are very lucky to be alive given the state in which you were found."

Dean had something of a sour expression filed across his rather ghastly pale face.

"Forgive me if I don't feel all that lucky," muttered Dean noting how dry his throat had been.

The doctor assisted him with a container of water that had been at his bedside.

"Well the damage had not been too much that we couldn't see to mending, your broken bones and bruises are healing nicely, and the medication we gave you to combat those nasty S.T.D.s will do their job in no time." continued the doctor.

"S.T.D.s?" asked Dean with a confused and horrified look on his face.

"Yes, you appear to have had multiple during your sexual encounters but all treatable fortunately for you, and your drug dependency is not quite so terrible that you need rehab a proper round of weaning should have you good as new." the doctor finished with something of a sad smile. "It is standard practice to order a rape kit for new arrivals with your strange circumstances and it is how we discovered the S.T.D.s"

Dean had barely any time to let his words sink in. Those bastards had given him S.T.D.s and he had not even had a say in the frequent bouts of sex at all. The doctor seemed to note how upset he'd been and stepped out so he could have a few moments to himself.

The poor lad could barely hold back the tears and the rage as his thoughts began to race and his recollection of the hell he'd been through returned. The memories had been all too clear and vivid with the drugs no longer dulling his senses and it only made him feel the bile choke in his throat. He had hated those bastards with every fiber of his being, he had hated Clint Hudson, and most of all he had hated his mother for bringing him into this world and leaving him to the vile soulless bastards that occupied it. 

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