Learning To Live As A Cultivator - 289 Chapter Eighty Nine I Havent Made These In A While

Leon Van Michaels left his apartment an hour before the gas explosion ripped through the top two floors of the building, although his was on the ground floor. So it was not this accident which killed him.

The young man, who had lived alone for almost two years while studying at University, crossed the road towards his part-time job, as a large truck came speeding down the street. It stopped barely in time for the red light, so it was not this which killed him.

After he finished for the night, he returned home as the heavens opened and a full storm swept across this sky. Lightening struck a tree half a mile south of him, tearing it in two, but clearly this would not kill him.

Soaked and suddenly finding out that he could not return to his apartment, neither the landlord nor neighbouring tenants thought to inform him, he was forced to find a very cheap motel for the night. It was there that he died. The owner was arrested the next day for manslaughter and failure to comply with basic building regulations to name but a few of his crimes. But that would not comfort the man who had suffocated due to carbon monoxide poisoning, his soul had already moved on.

*****

Leon awoke from sleep due to eruption of agony. The worst source emanated from his gut, but his face, arms and legs felt great pain and hurt to the point he would wish to die. He could not open his swollen eyes to discover why he felt so bad, but he knew from the hard wood beneath his side that he no longer lie upon a bed. As he writhed in warm wetness, he felt something being shoved between his cracked lips and he instinctively swallowed it. The throbbing pain and loud beating of his heart that drowned out all other sound eased enough as words began to reach his mind.

“You are too kind, Tor,” a smug voice drawled. “That trash doesn’t deserve your pity!”

“No, I think you are too harsh, Caprian,” came a cold response. “Sure beat him for not complying, but do not kill him. Even your money might not cover up his death by your hands.”

“Of course it would,” the first male replied, haughtily.

“Psst! Do we have the pills yet?” A nervous voice came from a distance, behind a door perhaps?

“Grab what we need,” came the instruction, followed by a swift kick causing an additional burst of pain. “Should you live, you shan’t be so foolish as to defy me next time, fool.” The metallic taste of blood shot from his throat into his mouth, which he instinctively spewed out. “Ugh, mind my boots, do you know their worth?!”

“Caprian,”the cold voice warned. There was the sound of a door opening and shutting and then nothing.

Leon could do nothing, but softly groan as the pain overcame his senses and plunged him into darkness