Writing Prompt: He heard the bone in his finger snap as agony screamed through his body.

Good morning. Had a few technical issues this morning. I was ready to go but my computer needed a bit of convincing. Starting a Monday annoyed at technology is probably not the best idea, but what can you do. So let’s at least smooth out some f the mental irritation by jumping into a writing prompt are you ready? Good, then let’s go.

well, not exactly a happy piece but it did make me feel better to switch to fiction rather than computer issues. So that’s an added benefit.

Monday, March 28th: He heard the bone in his finger snap as agony screamed through his body.

He heard the bone in his finger snap as agony screamed through his body.  Never in his life had he felt such pain.  He lived a cautious childhood, filled with quiet pursuits and nearly constant adult supervision.  There had been no skateboarding accidents, not skating, now bike riding episodes that could have given him some idea of what to expect.  He had never fallen out of a tree.  In face he couldn’t recall ever actually touching a tree let alone attempting to climb one.  He was certain the adults around him would have had an attack of the vapors had he even tried to touch something as natural as a tree.  While they were organic in food and chemical free as much as possible with everything else in his world, all the adults in his world held firm to the belief that nature was simply dirty and should be avoided.

Accidents of the bone breaking kind had never been a part of his world and deliberate violence was so far removed as to barely warrant consideration.  It was the violence he was facing now that was even more of a shock to his system than the actual bone breakage. 

As his insides curled in around the pain he realized that while it was enormous, the pain sliding through him first as a bolt of sheer agony and then with a sickening pulse of pain timed to match his heartbeat, it was the look in the other man’s face as his finger bone snapped. 

The man took delight in his pain.

This may have been a job.  He may have been commanded to do it, to extract whatever information Ian held, but the plain and simple truth was that the man enjoyed it.

‘You should always love what you do,’ In heard his father’s words float through his mind. A simple sentence told to him when Ian was beginning to take his career placement exams and debating his options for the course his life would take.

Ian was relieved that the man who was even now stepping backwards at his boss’ command. He had a satisfied look that Ian imagined was similar to the one he wore when he accomplished a job successfully.

The look here made his belly tremble, but Ian knew that dwelling on it wouldn’t help. Ian took deep breaths trying to slow down his heart rate.  He needed to think past the pain.  He shifted and the bones of his broken finger rubbed against each other, sending screaming white agony through him like sizzling lightning bolts.  The pain had to go somewhere.  Ian leaned forward and vomited.

It wasn’t much of a vomit.  He hadn’t eaten much in the past day. He barely had time for a single cup of coffee that morning and dinner had been a quick protein shake.  Mostly it was bile that came out, but releasing it made Ian feel a little better.  He felt hollow but clean inside.  The pain still pulsed with his heartbeat, but if he was careful not to jostle the bones he thought he could get through this. 

‘If there isn’t worse.’ He thought.  Worse was a definite possibility.  Ian tried to block the pain and concentrate on thinking his way through the situation.

He looked up as footsteps approached. The thug retreated and it was a relief to see the well-dressed man in front of him.  It meant pain was not imminent.  As the man in front of him ordered the pain, it was a slim comfort.

“Have you rethought our offer?” the man asked.