Ripper: An Indoraptor Story ✓

Impaled

Pain became the first thing I felt. 

I used to think it as a curse of human nature. They made me into what I am, so it had to be an ingredient in my design. If anything this was the only thing that made us all equal -- this sensation of anguish, this warmth buzzing beneath my scales. Still, it was strange to understand -- between the muscular twitches of my wretched flesh and the trembling nerves coursing through my veins -- but all I could fathom from pain was its raw power, one that overcame many of its victims. 

I only ever wish to be as strong as it was. For now, pain was a gift of weakness, something that I was destined to be afraid of.

Something I was forced to bear.

Long after it lanced through my body, I opened both amber eyes to an oceanic canvas of blurry colors. My limp jaws were hanging open and my tail drooped over the edge of the ceratopsian's façade, while two red-splattered horns pointed upwards from my corpse.

Impaled. But not dead?

I snorted to myself in surprise, spitting out a drizzle of blood from my maw. Not only was I alive, but my broken voice had returned, one that I hadn't heard from in years. It sounded scratchy and dull upon use, like an elderly's soft wheeze for air. 

Perhaps that's what happens when you listen to your mind over your own heart.

I twitched my tail to make sure it was still working, then moved to my limp claws, flexing them as well. I couldn't move much besides those few limbs. And only a few is not enough. Despite the fire boiling in my shoulder blades (and ribs), I took the time to look about, blinking twice and inspecting my blurry surroundings.

How long was I out for? I thought next. The mansion appeared destroyed. Not a single crack of brilliance speckled from above, and the only free-standing skeleton on display was the one I was lying on. The fabricated curtains that curled near the flanks of shattered windows were withered down -- perhaps from a faded fire -- and the ground had split by the stampede that rocked the mansion to its rotten core. Enough damage had been done to make this place inhospitable of life, and the smell above all else was decayed and old. But these scents and sights were just enough to give me a better understanding of the length of time from which I slept. 

A week at most. Three days at least. 

Another spasm of pain erupted in my side when I tried to shift again, and I growled loudly, shielding my whimpers away through my given strength.

You should've died, an all-too familiar creature suddenly spoke, the delirious conscious I had obeyed for years upon years now taking its rightful place in my mind. Indeed, he was a deity I had always trusted, and upon arrival of his clicks and grunts, I paused, just to listen. Why didn't he take you?

Maybe the horns missed my organs... it just struck flesh and bone.

Or, maybe Death befriended me again.

I lifted my skull high and gasped as more pain flowered in my shoulder crevice. For a few moments I considered the options laid out for me. I knew, pushing out of that ruptured area would be risky. But the impossibility of it all only came from the idea of how much pain I could endure. I couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of blood that would gush from my wounds if I attempt this dare.

But I had to try.

It was the only thing I could do at the moment. I couldn't bite through compacted bone, nor could I crush it. I couldn't scream, for nobody was coming.

This was the only way. 

This was the first step to freedom.

I counted to three several times, trying to hold myself together and resist the urge to panic. It took a minute to gain some much needed confidence but finally, after finding my ground with each claw, I slowly began to push.