Chapter 12: Nightmares of a torment, I
-You, insect!
Onix woke up startled on his small and dirty bed of old sheets. Between sleep, he could see with horror the threatening figure, wide and sweaty, which he was so used to.
-Why the hell are you still sleeping?!
The man reproaching, armed with a long and heavy semi-automatic shotgun, approached fast the weak and trembling young body, still half asleep, and beat against him several times with the shotgun's butt. Onix received the beating helplessly, curled up. The bully wasn't satisfied until he heard his victim cry; it was a faint, a childlike cry, with the deepest sadness that could exist: the sadness of someone who cries because he has absolutely no reason not to cry.
-Cry, that's it, cry, damn brat! You have already my height and even so you cry like a damn child, you are pathetic. Take, today i want you to start washing this. -the abuser took his white shirt off, completely stained with blood, and threw it against the teenager's face- I want it clean enough, it's still new. Oh, and as punishment for your lazyness, you won't eat today... so you learn that here, if you don't work you don't eat.
The basement door closed after that man, then on the other side the unmistakable sound of a bolt was heard. Onix, still curled up, crying, stayed still for several minutes, iluminated by the weak light of an oil lamp which allowed him to see the place in which he spent most of his time: it was with no doubt a very old place, so much that instead of washing machine or dishwasher, the yound man had to use his bare hands and rudimentary objects to satisfy the daily needs of his master. The room in which he was located was small, with hard stone walls, a dirty and stinky place. The teenager, tormented, got up with difficulty, took the shirt his master threw at him and prepared to wash it with soap and water.
Onix turned the poor faucet on to the warm water direction. He held out his hand, weak and bony, and put it under the stream waiting until it reached the correct temperture. He waited minute after minute, but he didn't feel a single warm drop. In that moment, the warlock noticed how unbelievably the water was becoming red, to the point that the water even lost it's transparency, he took his hand away and smelt it: it was wine.
-DAMN SWINE! -was heard through the basement's door- How do you dare to steal from me?!
The adolescent remembered frightened how the previous night, while he did his weekly cleaning of the house, decided to drink from one of the many ordinary wine bottles that his master kept on the kitchen... and this time he forgot to leave it on it's place, as he used to do. Scared, he also saw how the wine poured more and more from the faucet, which wouldn't stop pouring violently as much as Onix tried to turn the faucet off, and finally the pipes exploded, flooding suddenly the whole basement with red wine. The door, also, started being smashed strongly from the other side, as the young warlock looked helpless, and completelly wet due to the red drink, how his infuriated master destroyed little by little the wood with punches, ready to punish him, this time with his katana...
