There's pain. Dull, throbbing, aching pain, coursing through his stomach and his limbs and his head and every inch of him that's capable of feeling. Everything is pitch black, because his eyes are shut tightly to prevent the world from spinning around him. Through the pain, he hears a voice speaking, the words distorted as though the speaker is talking in stereo.
"What pathetic scum. You really thought you could steal from me? King Kamoshida, the master of his castle? Don't make me laugh!"
Something connects hard with his gut, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to roll on his back. His fly open as he inhales a sharp, pained gasp, just in time to see a certain speedo-wearing, yellow-eyed king drop a foot onto his stomach, heels digging into his ribs to keep him pinned against the ground. All around the king are armored guards wielding swords, the blades glittering in the dim castle light. Ha. . . he thinks to himself, I'm in trouble. . .
"A lowlife like you is hardly worth dirtying the floor for, but I can't have trespassers getting away with committing crimes on my watch." King Kamoshida raises a hand and beckons one of the guards forward. The mook obliges, extending its blade so the sharp edge glides across the soft, exposed skin of Ren's neck. Ren swallows thickly, eyes slipping shut again. Fuck you, he thinks to himself, rage and hatred boiling in his stomach, Fuck you, King Kamo-fucking-shitbag--
He doesn't have the energy to say any of this aloud.
"Iiii'm thinking I might hang your head up at the entrance," the King continues, a bit of sadistic glee seeping into his words. "To ward off any future intruders. A lesson to any other petty crooks who try to rip me off! A single thief is absolutely nothing against the might of my kingdom!"
Somehow, Ren manages to croak, his words full of gravel. "B-- but a team of four sure as shit is." A team of four is more than enough, and he knows that from experience. "H. . . ha, I'm such-- an idiot. . ."
The Shadow jerks back, surprised at Ren's words, then enraged. He lifts a hand again, and the armor-clad mook draws its weapon high into the air, ready to strike. "Is that a threat?" The King growls, yellow eyes narrowed, "Do you have reinforcements somewhere?"
"N. . . no. Not this t-- time," Ren replies, and the wry laughter that follows is practically choked. This is. . . where he went wrong, isn't it? Coming here without backup. Without Skull, Panther, and Mona. Trying to do this all on his own. He opens his eyes one last time, his vision blurry, but he can see the weapon above him as clear as sunlight either way.
"Bullshit," the King snarls, and he gives a nod to his mook. "Do it. Get him out of my sight."
The sword comes down.
There's more pain, biting and sharp and awful, stretching across the line of his neck. And then. . . there is nothing.
Memory 6 - Without Backup
"What pathetic scum. You really thought you could steal from me? King Kamoshida, the master of his castle? Don't make me laugh!"
Something connects hard with his gut, knocking the wind out of him and causing him to roll on his back. His fly open as he inhales a sharp, pained gasp, just in time to see a certain speedo-wearing, yellow-eyed king drop a foot onto his stomach, heels digging into his ribs to keep him pinned against the ground. All around the king are armored guards wielding swords, the blades glittering in the dim castle light. Ha. . . he thinks to himself, I'm in trouble. . .
"A lowlife like you is hardly worth dirtying the floor for, but I can't have trespassers getting away with committing crimes on my watch." King Kamoshida raises a hand and beckons one of the guards forward. The mook obliges, extending its blade so the sharp edge glides across the soft, exposed skin of Ren's neck. Ren swallows thickly, eyes slipping shut again. Fuck you, he thinks to himself, rage and hatred boiling in his stomach, Fuck you, King Kamo-fucking-shitbag--
He doesn't have the energy to say any of this aloud.
"Iiii'm thinking I might hang your head up at the entrance," the King continues, a bit of sadistic glee seeping into his words. "To ward off any future intruders. A lesson to any other petty crooks who try to rip me off! A single thief is absolutely nothing against the might of my kingdom!"
Somehow, Ren manages to croak, his words full of gravel. "B-- but a team of four sure as shit is." A team of four is more than enough, and he knows that from experience. "H. . . ha, I'm such-- an idiot. . ."
The Shadow jerks back, surprised at Ren's words, then enraged. He lifts a hand again, and the armor-clad mook draws its weapon high into the air, ready to strike. "Is that a threat?" The King growls, yellow eyes narrowed, "Do you have reinforcements somewhere?"
"N. . . no. Not this t-- time," Ren replies, and the wry laughter that follows is practically choked. This is. . . where he went wrong, isn't it? Coming here without backup. Without Skull, Panther, and Mona. Trying to do this all on his own. He opens his eyes one last time, his vision blurry, but he can see the weapon above him as clear as sunlight either way.
"Bullshit," the King snarls, and he gives a nod to his mook. "Do it. Get him out of my sight."
The sword comes down.
There's more pain, biting and sharp and awful, stretching across the line of his neck. And then. . . there is nothing.