I wake to a sharp spike of pain as a fist deforms my solar plexus. A face swaying in and out of focus as I look out through tears and bruised eyes. The gleeful face of a man stares back at me, handsome features lurk under sagging flesh, mouth twisted in a rictus of delight, eyes shine with a burning intensity.

"Flesh," his voice a sing-song mimicry, "I have tasted the flesh of the flowers. They brought me home, brought me to you. Ha, now that I'm here, what shall we do with you? Hmm? What... shall... we... do..."

Too close, his fetid breath in my face makes me gag, rotting meat and a sweet scent I can't quite place. Hands above my head, chains biting into wrist bones. I choke around the gag, trying not to vomit, acid burning in my throat. Can't stop. Spewing and choking and coughing, he releases the gag and allows the contents of my stomach to spill down my chest and onto the dust of the floor, vile splatters cake and settle. With the next retching cough, I try to send as much spew in his direction as I can.
He capers back, sudden swiftness belying his bulk.
"Jack be nimble, Jack be quick," he cackles, dodging the half-digested chunks of what I ate for lunch, careful not to get my mess on his worn leather boots. Flaps of skin hang from his arms, wobbling as he claps at the show. Pleased with himself, pleased with what he’s reduced me to, a vessel of suffering, shattered, his toy. Another punch in my gut, this time I spew all over his suit, projecting with the last strength I have left. Tears stream down my swollen cheeks, he reaches forward, retying the gag, now soaked with vomit. I'm still struggling for breath as he hits me again. A cracking, felt deep in my chest, turns my gasps and cries into wheezing sobs, ribs shatter under his ministrations.

"I've tasted sweet nectar from the flowers, and it's nothing like yours."

He licks his shining lips, and cackles again, the eerie sound echoes off the concrete walls. Shivers run down my spine, he's not human, not sane. His blows pummel different parts of me, I no longer feel them distinctly. My body transformed into a pulped mass of burning, stabbing pain. Fresh tears spill into cuts on my face, burning as they run over split lips. He hits harder and harder, I respond less and less. Meaty thunks, fists trying to elicit reactions my broken shell is beyond giving.

"Someone... is not playing... the game. PLAY THE GAME!" He yells, raging at my limp form, a furious blow shatters my jaw, my right ear rings as blood trickles out.

Cool air, a brief respite on my hot skin, as he moves back, considering. I sway back and forth, too tired to stand, my arms pull painfully in their sockets, it's too much, far too much. A gap in punishment, this splinter of time, sparks hope, a glimmer in the darkness. Maybe he's bored, maybe he's done with me?

A tickle through my deadened nerves, I feel wetness rubbing across my flesh, extinguishing, probing, touching. My god! Tasting. He's licking me! Dry heaves wrack my battered flesh as his tongue probes each inch of skin. The pain of my wounds pales before this new violation.

"The bloom of your flower is not enough, but it will do for now."

Sharp pain in my groin as he bites down, fluid and blood and flesh between his teeth. I soil myself, spraying across his crazed eyes and into his mouth. Pain, red hot, too much. He laps at the mess of my flesh like a dog, whatever was once human in this beast, gone.

"The day they said I couldn't play, is the day I ran away."

Another crazed limerick as he licks and tongues his way around. I can't stop shuddering as my body shuts down, waiting, wanting, needing this to be over, but he doesn't stop.