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The days had long become a blur, lying there in that dark and dank cell. Could it even be considered a cell? It was more like a pit that the Yong’an soldiers used to throw trash in. Is that what they thought of him? A piece of trash?
Long before the fever had taken hold of him, the days of crawling around in the stench and the filth seemed never-ending.
Everything hurt, but yet… the hunger never went away. He had to keep eating. Qi Rong learned within weeks of being thrown down here that he had to eat whatever he could get his hands on, even if it made him want to throw up his own organs, to tear out his own tongue to get the taste out.
The hunger had over-powered what little morals he had; He eventually even found himself craving more and more. What was once hard to stomach was now the one thing he looked forward to.
Meat. Skin. Blood. Muscles. Human flesh.
How could a prince of Xianle sink so damn low? How had it come to this? He had asked himself about this many times, but he knew the answer: in this new reality, it was either eat or be eaten.
He blinked with narrow eyes up at the ceiling he could barely see, anger managing to fill the body he could no longer move. It had been days since he was able to move even an inch, leaving him to stew in his own filth and misery.
It wasn’t his fault. He was forced into becoming this, just as anything he’d ever done before! The only ‘family’ he had… they had left him behind as they fled like fucking cowards.
Remembering that day made him clench his fists tightly, which shot jolts of sharp pain through his joints. He winced and closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth as the memories flooded back through him.
Ha! As if they ever left! As if his mind wasn’t a constant swarm of hatred and agony!
He had been forced into his bedroom at the palace of Xianle, the door slammed firmly shut in his face. He screamed, pounded on the door, kicked, threw things, cursed everyone’s ancestors and future offspring… Nothing worked. No one ever opened the door, even as the smell of smoke and the sound of shouting rose higher.
Prince Xiao Jing was cornered as the only home he’d ever truly had burned down around him, as the ‘family’ he once idolized left him to die. He was forced to jump off his own balcony to a lower level, forced to limp on a broken ankle for miles outside of the city before he was captured.
Qi Rong’s bloodshot eyes opened forcibly wide, coughing out a mouthful of blood as a fit of laughter sent waves of agony through him. A bloody tear ran down the side of his mutilated face as the laughter seemed to go on and on, choking him.
Even as the agony of dying rang through him, he only thought of one thing; Cousin Crowned Prince, Xie Lian. He hated him, loathed him… he wanted to tear him apart with his bare hands, to stand before him and watch him cry tears of blood.
He wanted him to suffer… he wanted all of them to fucking suffer.
The forced laughter became true laughter, his grimace turning into a malice-filled smile as his eyes became heavier.
The world would grow to regret the day it turned its back on him; he’d make damn sure of that! The energy was fading from his body, but the hate and the anger only tripled. The laughter turned to gasps, the gasps turned to choked wheezes…
And then there was silence.
Qi Rong’s mortal body died that day in that dirty pit; broken, alone, forgotten… but his spirit lived on. It grew to become stronger than he ever was then when he was alive.
The Night-Touring Green Lantern… fueled by nothing but hatred and the endless hunger for human flesh.