Master

WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!
I... I don't know...
GET THE FUCK UP, NOW!
...
DO YOU KNOW WHY ARE YOU ALIVE UNTIL NOW? DO YOU, YOU VERMIN?
I, I don't.
Because you're so pathetic it's almost ridiculous to kill you. It's disgusting to look to at you. SEE? YOU CAN'T EVEN SLEEP, IS IT REALLY THAT HARD? I JUST ASKED YOU TO SLEEP, AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT. WHAT DO WE DO NOW?
I don't know....
Seems like beating you doesn't work, want more scars you little piece of scum? COME HERE.
No, no, please, no...
'KAY, SO I'LL HAVE TO TAKE YOU BY FORCE.
...
STOP FUCKING CRYING.
...
THERE, SEE IF THIS MAKES YOU LESS RETARDED!


And so the boy stood in the dark room. It smelled to rotten flesh. His companions were there for a few years. His left eye hurt too much. In fact, most of his body. The corpses around weren't that much of a problem for he couldn't walk away nor push things. One broken arm, one broken leg. A few teeth missing. Scars here and there. Forever.