Creation Rite - DVL in the details

I feel the boot crunch against my ribcage. On the inside bones crack and something bursts. Through my unruined eye I see him wind back for another kick. I am a million miles away. I’m in Tampa. The sun is warm and sea smell is sharp. I have passed the point of pain. My body lifts and arches like a bridge as he kicks me again. I try to tell him to stop but words slur out of me in an incomprehensible mumble as the flap of skin that was my cheek rolls against my jaw. I am a million miles away.
He grabs my hair and I feel myself being pulled along the ground. The gravel grates at the small of my back as my bloodied shirt tears open. Eventually I feel the ground give way underneath me and for the briefest moment I’m in free fall. I feel free, like I’m flying. I imagine that I have died, that my body has finally released me from this cruelty. But I hit the bottom of the pit with a jarring crunch.
I look around me. Slumped on the far side is the guy from the tour bus that sat next to me. Ben? I think that’s what his name was. He looks in complete shock, hugging his knees to his chest. Not far from him is the girl that was arguing loudly with her boyfriend. I didn’t get her name. She looks as if she caught it every bit as bad as me and Ben.
My good eye turns up to see the man from the woods pull something over the pit. Judging from the scraping it’s most likely a large square of sheet metal. He says something as the pit closes. It surprises me to hear no malice or pleasure in his voice as he states that by tomorrow night, only one of us must be alive or we will all be killed. He carries on about the survivor being educated and inducted.
The grate closes. It is dark.
I don’t want to die. Ben is crying. The girl is making a low moaning sound. I touch my face where my cheek used to be. I don’t want to die. My finger pricks against something sharp in my mouth. The point of a protracting tooth. I don’t want to die. I leap from where I landed onto Ben. I drive newly grown fangs into the side of his neck. I don’t want to die. I am mildly surprised as the girl puts up more of a fight. I am a million miles away as I murder two people I don’t even know, buried in a ditch, somewhere in the wilds.