Murdock Lied ▻ Merlin

F O U R

- though this story will be discontinued following the next two chapters, I thought that I may as well add these parts, considering I'd already written them! :) -

Murdock said nothing as they pulled him to his feet. He barely felt their strong fingers squeezing his arms - though he did feel the jolt of pain that echoed after it - as they pushed him closer to the river.

Icy spray rose from the roaring, tumbling watercourse that thundered along the gorge a metre down the steep cliff. It filled his senses; the relentless pounding of water on rocks was all that filled his ears - all which filled his head, even. The entrancing swirls of light turquoise amongst navy blue against black depths that no doubt promised jagged rocks and strong, unpredictable currents. And it was cold - that much Murdock could feel - as stray droplets scattered on his skin. Seconds seemed to drag into minutes as Murdock stared down. Perhaps he could survive, if his hands were not bound.

He tried to take a step back. Someone pushed him forward, so much so that he almost stumbled down the cliff himself. He licked his lips; they were cold. Everything felt numb now. He couldn't feel the throbbing ache in his arm, nor the stinging pain that still lingered like a peck on the cheek. His head felt foggy and heavy atop a body he didn't recognise.

This was it, this was the end.

He felt two strong hands on his shoulder blades, but his feet were not his own as they slid down the muddy embankment.

It was like he was watching from someone else's point of view as the boy's feet slid and his torso wobbled, fighting to stay balanced, as his arms struggled against the bindings. But then it was real - too real - as the raging river jumped up to meet him.

Instantly, cold water squeezed his body like a vice, pressing in from all sides as his precious breath was torn from him.

Panic set in. He could barely think - which way was up?

Pain.

Pain as the chilled water stole the warmth from his skin, from his blood, from his bones.

He thrashed wildly; have to keep moving, have to keep the blood flowing, the limbs working, the muscle's mobile.

Bubbles brushed past his cheek like a fleeting kiss and flashes of beautiful blue whipped past his eyes equal to a dancer's ribbon - it was this that made the water seem almost pleasant, and welcoming. But then the current ripped past him, a roaring torrent in his head, jerking him back and forth like a leaf in the wind, and he was knocked into the cruel reality.

Sunlight - his head emerged and he coughed, once, twice, inhale - under again. His leg kicked against a rock, but he didn't feel it as he should have. The cold was infected his system like a virus. Had to keep moving...

Again, oxygen. Keep calm. Breath. Focus on kicking legs; arms are useless. Look around; water, water everywhere. The gully - steeper than when he was pushed in. And yet he can still hear their laughter, their taunts and their cheers as they waved goodbye to the thief.

Under again - how much longer would this go on? Twisted and tumbled, knocked and jostled as the water chattered its merry song.

He was getting tired now, and figured he could really do with a rest. The cold like concrete in his bones. He moved his limbs, but they don't obey his commands.

He doesn't feel anything.