Atlas was interrupted by his vacant stare at the man who complained about the other drunk man, but Atlas wasn't focused on his words.
His facial expression looked as if he was listening, but his mind was elsewhere, trapped in his past.
'Abomination of a freak, you should consider it an honor to give up your blood to your master.'
The younger Atlas was trapped in his chains as his dull eyes bored into the ceiling, unable to break away as immense pain rattled through him as these people took his blood by cutting off his arm.
AAAHHHHH!!!
He could feel a sense of absence in his arm that was cut for these people and their selfish reasons.
Unimaginable wave of pain that can't be explained made him want to die. He wants death so badly that he craves it.
Death would be a solace for his broken, battered soul.
He wanted to cry, but he was out of tears.
