The Judgement Of Divinity (TMOE #2)

Chapter 22: A couple of numbskulls

It was always blood. Would there ever be a memorable occasion in his life that didn't involve blood? That Scourgefucking red liquid seemed to paint every inch of Lucius' existence, so why was he surprised that his entire body had been painted with it now as well?

Every inch of him, bleeding. He shouldn't even be alive.

Was he even alive?

The entire sanctuary had crumbled on top of him and Anthony. It was the last thing Lucius could remember, and how could he possibly have survived that?

He opened his eyes, instantly closing them again because of the bright light. Was eternal damnation in The Waste filled with scorching daylight?

No, it was just regular daylight, and Lucius blinked to adjust his sight.

He was in his room. His eyes stung, his head ached, his throat was clogged up and parched, and his body was heavy, but for some miraculous reason he was alive and in his room.

Someone else was there as well, and Lucius released a hoarse sigh of relief. He still had no idea how, but Anthony must have conjured amazing strength to get them both out of there in such a short time.

To Lucius' disappointment however, it was not Anthony.

"Tom?" Lucius croaked, voice barely audible.

Tom Reed was in the process of scratching blood from underneath Lucius' nails with a thin, sharp tool, and he must have either been awfully focused or deep in thought because it took him a while to realise Lucius had addressed him.

"Oh, good," he said as he met Lucius' gaze, then he picked up a small brush with a long handle, dipped it in a bottle, and grabbed Lucius' chin. "Open up."

"Wh--" Lucius didn't have the strength to protest as Tom began brushing the inside of his mouth. It had a strong, dry taste, and while it was nice to have his mouth cleared of gore the brush was far from comfortable.

"Try to endure it," Tom said as he brushed closer to Lucius' throat, causing the latter to gag. "You'll feel better soon."

As if it wasn't bad enough, he then brought out a string to scrub between Lucius' teeth, and by Dyris was he ruthless. Lucius would just bleed even more with that kind of technique.

"There," Tom said, and Lucius let out a breath of relief again, only to try and crawl away backwards a second after as Tom shoved the aforementioned bottle into his mouth. "Drink. Don't swallow though, but wash your throat with it."

The taste of blood and alcohol in his throat was disgusting. Tom was prepared for it though and held out a bowl for Lucius to half-spit, half-vomit the mix into it.

"I don't deserve this," Lucius gurgled in between spitting out thick saliva and bloody alcohol. "I almost died. In fact, I'm pretty sure I should be dead."

"One would think." Tom nodded in agreement while handing Lucius a cup of water. "According to Anthony you lost more than enough for your organs to stop working."

Lucius gazed down at his body as well. Tom had done a rushed job washing away most of the caked blood from his skin, but it was still red-tinted with small spots decorating him all over.

Then he realised he wasn't wearing clothes, and while his bottom half was covered he still pulled the sheets up over his chest.

Tom pinched his lips together.

"I'm the only one who knows," he said, voice trying to comfort. "I insisted on washing you like this instead of all of us throwing you in a bath. It's less effective, but I figured you'd prefer it."