The Dark will rise from the darkness

He sat curled up on his mildewed mattress covering his bruised legs with a blanket. He'd given up hope of being found a long time ago, days had turned into weeks and without any real light in the room he'd finally lost track of all time. The only way he could tell its passing was the visits from the man. The door would open and he knew humiliation and pain were to come, followed by assured peace, food and water, at least for a short time.
Over the last few months his strength had improved, he was able to put up a struggle like he had at the beginning. He had even taken the beatings and was able to get up soon afterwards.....

The door swang open, a sillouette stood in the door way. Dropping his ciggarette to the floor he stepped into the small room. Something inaudible cracked in the boy. As he rose from his makeshift bed, tendrils appeared from his back, sides and arms. They swept towards his opressor latching on to his body. The man stared off into the middle distance as blood drained from his body. The tendrils retracted, the dry husk dropped to the floor...

His face briefly flickered to that of a twisted laughing demon and then back to that of a bruised and beaten young man.

The boy walked into the light of the doorway and was gone....