"Is he dead? He looks dead."
"No, I just checked, he's still alive."
Avery felt something hard nudge his side, right in his ribs. He grimaced, and tried to force his eyes open but couldn't. His entire body was wracked with pain. He couldn't move. His head was aching with such piercing pain; it felt as though it had been split open.
'Maybe I'm dying.' He thought weakly. At this point, that might not have been such a bad thing.
"Wake up, Bitch!" A loud voice belted at him, rattling his nerves. He didn't know who the voice belonged to, only that it was male. "Get up!" The voice yelled again.
Avery groaned. He was able to move his head in the direction of the disembodied voice, but that was all. The effort of it left him feeling drained and dizzy.
"The stupid bitch can't even move!" The voice sounded frustrated. He was moving around Avery, circling him like a vulture circling its prey. His feet kicked up dirt, leaves, and grass as he moved. Avery could hear each footfall, he could hear the crunch of shoes smashing against the ground, and rustling through a dying field.
He could smell the grass and the unmistakable scent of decaying leaves. He could smell the earth all around him, and he could feel the dry, cracked, blades of tall grass brushing against his face and beneath his finger tips.
'How did I get outside?' Avery wondered. His mind was in a fog. The last thing that he had remembered was being at home. Rick had left for work, leaving Avery alone in the apartment. He didn't feel like walking to the bar in the middle of the night, not since the events of the past few days, so he decided to stay in. He rented a movie, some stupid romantic comedy. Not the kind of film that he normally liked, but he wasn't sure that watching a horror movie while home alone was that great of an idea.
He remembered that he was going to make some popcorn, but before that he'd decided to change into something more comfortable. Sweats and an old t-shirt was what he normally wore to lounge around in on cold nights. Then he could curl up on the couch with his bowl of popcorn, a soda, and his movie. It was going to be a relaxing night. At least, that's what he had planned, so it seemed extremely strange to him that he would be outside, and in the middle of the night.
He tried hard to think back. He was in his bedroom, he remembered that. He remembered changing clothes. He remembered sitting down on the edge of the bed and then...the rest was a blur.
"You filthy little whore." The voice hissed.
Avery winced. He had no idea who the man was, but he was instantly frightened of him.
"Come on you whore!" He yelled again. The sounds of the man's voice filled the air. It echoed in the silence of the night, demanding and forceful, but to Avery it sounded muffled, as if he were trapped under water and the voice had only broken past the surface of the waves.
"You ain't hurt that bad! Get your lazy ass up!"
Avery wasn't sure why at that point, but he felt that he needed to obey the voice, though he still had no clue as to whom the voice belonged. His heart was pounding erratically in his chest, his head ached and his limbs were like jelly, still he knew somehow that he had to do as he was told or there would be trouble.
He moved his legs slowly, painfully, trying to draw them up. He put his palms flat against the earth and tried hard to push his upper body up. Straining his muscles, he mustered all the strength that he could but only managed to raise himself up about an inch before his arms gave out, his legs slipped in the dirt, and he once more fell back laying there, sprawled out on the ground and panting from exhaustion.
"Oh that's just pathetic!" Another voice growled. This one was lower, more husky, and not as playful as the last. "What a weakling! How can you even call yourself a man?"
"S...sorry." Avery whimpered. His voice sounded strange to him. It was so small and fragile. He didn't recognize it as his at first. He hadn't even realized at first that he'd even spoken until he heard the two men laughing at and mocking him.
"Aw, he's sorry." The husky voice crooned. "Did you hear that Donnie, he's sorry?"
"Yeah he's gonna be sorry." The one apparently named Donnie laughed.
"Alright, that's enough screwing around. Don, Frankie, you get over and lift him up, one under each arm. Hold him up good and don't let him fall."
"Yes Sir!" Frankie laughed.
Avery groaned as the two men grabbed his arms then hoisted him to his feet. His couldn't see what they were doing to him but he could feel their hands on him and he could feel them lifting him up into the air. They were taller than Avery and bulkier too. He could feel their massive hands holding his small arms. Their thick, meaty, fingers dug into his flesh painfully.
He moved and kicked his feet, searching for something solid on which to stand but they had lifted him too high and so he just hung limp, suspended between the two of them, like a rag doll.
His head rolled to one side then fell forward. He lacked any control over his body now, and he was still so confused. He was only vaguely aware of what was happening, and he was only vaguely aware of the third person standing in front of him.
This third man, there was something about him, something familiar though Avery wasn't sure exactly what it was, but he had the oddest feeling that he knew him. As the man moved closer to him, Avery began to panic. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hot breath beating down on him, it was all so awful, so terrifying that Avery began to cry and shake uncontrollably.
The man gripped his hair tightly in his fist and jerked Avery's head backwards so that his face was looking straight up. Avery's eyes opened to half slits. He wasn't able to make out anything other than darkness though. His eyes were two badly swollen and his vision too blurred.
"Where's your smart mouth now?" The third man snarled. "Not so brave anymore, are you?"
