Day 16: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26748730/chapters/66022876

Prompt: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day; Forced to Beg, Hallucinations, Shoot the Hostage

Fandom/OC: Original Work

TW:  swearing, dehumanization, death mention, knives, blood, child abuse, guns, broken bones

@whumptober2020​

Just a lil something I wrote tonight that I’m pretty proud of:

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“Please. Please let him go.”

The man hummed in slight satisfaction at the smaller man’s pleas. He seemed amused at this whole situation as he came to stand in front of where he knelt.

“Say that again.”

“What? I-”

“What did you just say? Say it again.”

“I- I said, let him go.”

“No, that’s not quite right.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What exactly did you say?”

The realization hit him and his stomach dropped as he realized what the man wanted. He sighed, clenching his fists across his lap.

“I said, please. Please let him go.”

The man nodded and he sighed in relief, but it wasn’t enough.

“Now beg.”

“What? No- I-”

The man began to move back to his friend, flicking out his pocketknife and moving to the other side of where he hung- putting the boy between himself and the other one on the floor.

“Alright. Well, I’ll just have to continue with what I had planned then-” he threatened.

“No!” He cried. He nearly lunged himself at the man- his hands catching his weight as he nearly crashed on the floor. “Please. Please don’t- don’t hurt him anymore. There, is this what you want?” He choked back a sob, keeping his eyes focused on the man in front of him, and the boy that had already been granted so much pain. He nearly laughed. “Look, I’m on my hands and knees here. Please, just no more. Just give him a break, please.”

He waited in silence as the man stood there, his breathing getting slightly heavier as he scanned the body of the figure estrained in front of him.

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.”

Carrot Top 52- Open Up

It’s the next chapter! Part 51 is here.Masterlist here. If you have any questions about any of their powers, or how the world works, I’m always open to asks.

CW: restraints, medical whump, manhandling, collared, forced to beg, drugged whumpee, noncon touching (non-sexual), whumpee with a messed-up headspace, threatening with a gun, (if guns squick you out, this chapter probs isn’t the one for you).

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Mickie and Micah had their backs pressed against the wall. A sheen of sweat was peeking over her brow as the guards walked past. She had reassured Micah several times though- as long as they weren’t moving, her illusion would hold fast, and they were practically invisible. Something about shapeshifting the light around them.

He still didn’t understand a lot of this. For now though- he didn’t think he needed to. He just needed to make sure Andrew got back safely.

The guards left and Micah relaxed back into the wall with a sigh.

“You holding up alright?” Micah whispered. She nodded. 

They approached a little closer- listening closely for any signals that might mean they should step in and help. The door that Ali and Justin had entered into was just down the hall. 

Micah’s heart jumped as he heard a faint scream from behind the door. 

Instinctively he raced towards it- despite Mickie grabbing his arm- trying to get him to wait- assess the situation before barging in there.

The sight he laid eyes on when he barged into the room was one he’d relive over and over in his nightmares.

Justin was thrashing on the floor- he quickly discovered he was the source of the scream. Ali was curled in a heap, seemingly incapacitated while a man stood over the two of them.

If you saw that man out on the street, he’d look like any other office drone, maybe with a bit more of a personality. He likes to play mini golf on the weekends, and thinks wearing a colored suit is his version of living rebelliously. In fact, he was wearing one now. A light gray-blue, with the jacket discarded to the side, and the sleeves rolled up, the front slightly unbuttoned. His dark hair was greased back into a low ponytail, and Micah could see a sleek pocket knife resting in the top of his left front pocket- clearly meant for easy access.

The man laughed, and Micah got a good look at this face. That was the only thing distinct about him. Several scars lined his features, and his eyes seemed to stare deep into your soul- scanning every inch of your body- analyzing every weakness and trace with just a glance as he scanned the boy up and down.

“Well, this is a surprise isn’t it?” The man taunted. “I was expecting the little sister, but I guess the boyfriend will have to do, hmm? Or can he even call you that?”

“What did you do to him?” Micah felt Andrew’s sister sneak in behind him as the man turned towards where the boy was restrained. 

“According to his words, ‘I barely know him.’ And, ‘don’t bring him into this, he’s not important.’” Splice took a step closer to Micah and he stepped to the side, trying to get a better view of Andrew. “How’s that make you feel, hm? That you’re not important.”

“Oh shut up.” Micah grumbled. “What did you do to him!”

From where he stood- Andrew was an array of tubes and mechanisms and machines. He seemed to be nearly floating in the air. Suspended by an array of chains and platforms and metal cuffs that locked around his nearly-naked body. If it weren’t for the lanky limbs and scrunched features of his face- Micah would’ve nearly been unable to recognize him. 

His skin was so pale- nearly a stark white that matched his hair. He wanted to rush towards him- throw him off of that machine- shoot that man right where he stood- but-

But he had no idea what he had done to Andrew. No idea what was in all those tubes and machines, or how to deal with any of it and keep him alive if he killed the man right away.

It didn’t matter anyways because as Micah stepped forward towards the boy, the man grabbed him by the arm- pulling him close against his chest. 

Splice grabbed Micah’s wrists, pulling them tight behind his back. Completely dwarfed by the larger man, his attempts at thrashing about and squirming from the man’s grip were useless.

“Let go of me!” He cried. “Don’t touch me- get off-”

Micah yelped out a scream as the third collar was locked around his throat. He felt the sharp pains in the back of his neck and quickly realized that Justin and Ali were wearing the same thing. The same chunk of metal that was keeping both of them incapacitated on the floor.

“It’s power restricting dear, don’t try and fight it, or get it off. It’ll be useless.”

At this moment Micah realized his advantage. Splice didn’t know anything about him. He didn’t know he didn’t have any abilities, that this collar wasn’t going to do anything to him aside from being a minor inconvenience. 

He dropped to his knees as the man let him go- throwing him to the ground.

“What did you do to him.” He demanded, his fingers flitting up to his neck- feeling the cold metal. He flinched away as the man laughed.

“What I did to him is a great question indeed. Should we have a little demonstration?”

“No!” He cried. “Just- just let him go. Take him off the machine, we can- we can talk about this, we-”

“Oh there’s sure a lot to talk about.” The man stated, pacing around the boy. Micah didn’t know what to say. He was never usually at a loss for words, but this whole situation- Andrew, lying there so defenseless- it was hard to come up with any sort of intelligent conversation.

“Are you quite certain you want me to remove him from all this?” The man fiddled with the machine, adjusting some buttons and levers.

Justin had propped himself onto his elbows- still panting and drenched in sweat from the shocks he’d been given earlier.

“Let him- let him go-” he panted.

Micah nodded in agreement. 

“Please. Please let him go.”

Splice hummed in slight satisfaction at the smaller boy’s pleas. He seemed amused at this whole situation as he came to stand in front of where he knelt.

“Say that again.”

“What? I-”

“What did you just say? Say it again.”

“I- I said, let him go.”

“No, that’s not quite right.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What exactlydid you say?”

The realization hit Micah and his stomach dropped as he realized what the man wanted. He sighed, clenching his fists across his lap.

“I said, please. Please let him go.”

Splice nodded and Micah sighed in relief, but it wasn’t enough.

“Now beg.”

“What? No- I-”

Splice began to move back to Andrew, flicking out his pocketknife and moving to the other side of where he hung- putting the boy between himself and the other one on the floor.

“Alright. Well, I’ll just have to continue with what I had planned then-” he threatened.

“No!” Micah cried. He nearly lunged himself at the man- his hands catching his weight as he nearly crashed on the floor. “Please. Please don’t- don’t hurt him anymore. There, is this what you want?” Micah choked back a sob, keeping his eyes away from where Justin and Ali lay. Purely focused on the man in front of him, and the boy that had already been granted so much pain. He nearly laughed. “Look, I’m on my hands and knees here. Please, just no more. Just give him a break, please.”

Micah waited in silence as the man stood there, his breathing getting slightly heavier as he scanned the boy restrained in front of him. 

He sighed, and began shutting off some of the machines, removing the iv drip bag and disconnecting it from Andrew’s arm.

“Well, only since you asked so nicely.”

Micah sighed in relief, nearly collapsing in on himself, and glanced back towards Justin. 

They watched in silence as the man disconnected their friend from the arrangement he was in. The ivs and tubes were removed, the band around his head, the wires attached to his chest. The metal stands keeping him held up were removed and lowered, and he was just suspended by the chains. With a careful hand on his head, the tubes in his mouth and down his throat were removed and tossed aside. The chains were lowered until he was lying on his back on the ground, the drain right beneath him.

Andrew gasped out, his neck arching back as his lungs and throat burned. 

Thankfully the rest of his body was so numb with drugs that he barely felt any other pain. But he hadn’t been breathing on his own for nearly twenty four hours. 

Tears leaked down his eyes as he stared at the ceiling- his vision blurry and unfocused. His chest heaved- and finally, after a few agonizing moments, he remembered how to breath again. 

It was anything but steady- short, gasping breaths that were interrupted by jabs of pain, followed by long, drawn out wails of air.

Micah wanted to rush to him- to hold him in his arms as he shook and trembled on the floor- but the man was in his way. And with Andrew’s vulnerability, he did not want to risk anything in fear of his safety. 

Splice removed the chains and cuffs from Andrew’s ankles- they were dark and bruised compared to the pale white of the rest of his body. Micah stared in horror at the clear displacement of the bones- the discoloration- the way Andrew barely flinched or moved as the man’s eyes scanned his body. He removed the band along his waist, as well as the chain attached to his neck, but kept the collar locked tight around it. 

The man grabbed both chains attached to his wrists, pulling them together and stretching them up to the ceiling. He pulled it higher and higher until Andrew was forced on his knees. Andrew sat back between his heels, his wrists held out in front of him as his head arched backwards- almost as if he could open up his throat to suck in more breath. But there would never be enough air.

  “I believe just a moment ago you were wondering what I’d done to him, hmm?” Splice taunted. Andrew’s eyes remained unfocused as the man gripped his hair forcing him to look ahead at his friends.

Andrew barely registered what was happened. This wasn’t his own body- he didn’t belong here- everything that was happening to him- it didn’t feel like it was actually him. It was all disjointed, unconnected.

“Don’t hurt him-” Micah whispered- frozen in his spot where he knelt.

“Oh he won’t need much of that anymore. I only want him to answer a few questions.” He tilted the boy’s chin up to look in his eyes- hoping for some sort of coherency from the boy. “Can you do that for me?” He asked.

Andrew blinked back in silence, trying to register what was going on. 

“Alrighty carrot top, who do you belong to?”

There was complete silence in the room- the only sound being Andrew’s strangled breaths. The hand tightened in the back of his hair, gripping tightly underneath his chin. Andrew gasped slightly- but still didn’t speak, even as the man asked the question again.

“Don’t- don’t touch him.” Micah asked- his voice just barely above a whisper. The man made his skin crawl- the way he looked at Andrew- the way his fingers gripped the boy’s skin- “Please, just leave him alone.” He pleaded.

At Micah’s plea Splice responded with a slap to Andrew’s face. His head jerked to the side and he gasped at the sting- his eyes finally shuffling to land on the man in front of him.

“There we go. Are you with me now?” Splice asked. 

“Don’t touch him!” Micah cried. 

Andrew’s eyes seemed to light up at the sound of the other boy’s voice. They darted about for something to land on but all he could see was the man in front of him. Even that figure was blurry. 

“Ahh, it looks like you are with us. Finally. I was asking a question- it’s rude of you to ignore me you know.” He leaned down, grabbing the boy’s wrists as he whispered in his ear. “If you keep this up, your punishment will make everything I did to you before seem like a treat.” 

Andrew squinted his eyes shut tight, nodding his head fiercely. 

“Good.” The man whispered. He stood back up, and stepped aside so Andrew could get a clear glance of his friends about the room. “Now, who do you belong to Andy?” 

His eyes landed on the man. Pleading with him silently. His throat hurt so much he could barely make out a whisper. There was no sound. At Andrew’s failed attempt the man gripped Micah by the back of his sweater and dragged him forward. Micah yelped and struggled in his grip, but was unable to resist as his wrists were grabbed. 

“Don’t make me ask again!” He yelled, jerking Micah’s arms behind him as he did so.

Andrew’s eyes finally registered who was sitting in front of him. He saw the blue of the hair- the small figure dwarfed by an oversized sweater- his oversized sweater. And he registered that man- the one who had caused him so much pain. He was holding that boy- with- with a knife pressed under his chin. The same knife he had carved those lines into his skin with just a few hours ago. 

And then he registered what the man wanted. The question- the responses- the words that were so ingrained in his mind.

“You-” he blurted out. “I belong to you.” He answered. 

Andrew was shocked at how raspy his own voice sounded. There was barely any volume. Just a grovel of consonants and vowels that tried to make some coherent sense. But it was good enough for the man.

“Finally. Next question. What are you?”

Andrew winced at the pain that crept up his throat from the attempt to speak. He had to answer- he couldn’t let Micah get hurt. He couldn’t drag him into this. 

“A tool.” He managed to say. “Used for- for what you see fit.”

“Andrew no-” Micah whispered. The man tugged at his arms tighter, the glint of the blade threatening to break skin and Micah took that as his cue to be silent. 

Splice nodded in agreement, satisfied with the answer. 

“Now where, and when?”

Andrew choked back a sob. Holding back a cough in his throat as he tried to answer. 

“Here, with you- and for- for forever-” At the last word he broke into a fit of coughs. Andrew collapsed in on himself, his wrists pulled tight above him as his lungs heaved. A few droplets of blood splattered on the floor below him. His whole mouth felt dry as it mingled with the taste of blood and bile that crept up his throat. 

Micah’s eyes were clenched tight. He couldn’t watch this. He didn’t think he’d be strong enough. Instead he listened to the coughs and grunts of pain as Andrew tried and failed to catch his breath. 

“Last question, carrot top.” The man stated. “Why. Why am I doing this. Why you?”

Andrew’s chest shook his mouth formed the words but he underestimated the amount of effort needed to create the sound. He choked back a sob of frustration before putting forth his remaining energy to answer the question.

“Because I’m worthless. I- I’m nothing, and I- I deserve it.”

Another fit of coughs rung through him and Micah gasped in unison as the knife left his throat and the man stepped away.

A cruel hand rubbed along Andrew’s back as he hacked- his whole body shook and shivered. 

“Oh you’re alright.” The man moved to the rolling cart filled with numerous supplies and came back with a water bottle and a few tissues. “Here- you deserve it.” 

Micah watched in shock as Andrew mumbled thank yous, and let the man bring the bottle to his lips. His head tilted back as the water washed over him. It spilled down his chin as he tried to drink- and took him a moment to remember how to swallow. Just as he was actually getting something down his throat, the man pulled it away and Micah swore he could hear the boy whine. 

Andrew looked so- so- he hated to think it, but he looked so pathetic. It was terrifying really, to think of everything the man must have done in order the resort Andrew to this state of submission. 

What sorts of pain had he put him through?

As Micah’s eyes scanned Andrew’s body, and he saw all the scars, he didn’t think he ever wanted to know. 

There were so many- and that was just on his chest. So many lines, interwoven and carved between each other. Splotches and scratches, discoloration, some bruises fresh, others that were weeks old. He didn’t want to imagine what all terrible history was written on his back, or the rest of his body.

Splice saw the boy’s eyes scanning his friend and he chuckled. He titled Andrew’s chin up from where it hung on his chest.

“He looks wonderful doesn’t he?”

“What?” 

Splice turned Andrew’s face from side to side. Inspecting each bruise, each mark along his neck and across his shoulders. 

“It’s almost like a work of art. I mean, you were wondering everything I’d done to him. Care for a demonstration?” As he spoke the man rose the chain on the ceiling higher and higher- pulling Andrew’s wrists up until he was forced high on his toes. They barely brushed the ground as his arms stretched out above him, leaving his body strung up on display.

“Before I begin,” the man stated, “I’m going to need you to hand that over.” He stood in front of Micah, one hand outstretched, as if asking for a treat a child had stolen from the cookie jar. 

Micah shook his head, scooching backwards away from the man.

“I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

Splice shook his head, stepping forward until he was standing directly atop of the boy, staring down at him. 

“Oh I’m sure you do. Are you that primitive to resort to such violence?”

“Violence!” Micah laughed, motioning towards his friend. “You’re definitely one to comment on violence.”

“Yes, but my methods are far more… sophisticated. Now hand it over.” 

Justin’s eyes had shifted towards Micah. He had managed to crawl his way over to Ali but the collar sapping his powers was making him so dehydrated that was struggling hard to fight unconsciousness. 

“I don’t have anything-”

“Oh don’t lie to me, I don’t have time for this.”

Splice knelt down on top of the boy, straddling his waist, and flipped him onto his stomach. He pressed a knee into the back of his neck, trapping his arms underneath him. 

“Don’t touch me- get off!” Micah cried. He screamed and thrashed about as the man felt around for the object, finally lifting up the back of his sweater to find the pistol tucked carefully in the back of his waistband. 

“Well- look at what I found.” 

“Get off of me.” He grumbled through gritted teeth as the man shoved his face in the floor. In a swift move Splice flipped the boy back onto his back, keeping his hands pinned down by his sides with his knees. Micah squirmed but the man was far stronger. 

He twirled the pistol in between his fingers, flicking the safety on and off over and over again, until Micah had no idea what was what anymore. He heard a string of muttered pleas and screams that took him a moment to realize were his own. The pistol was pressing up underneath his chin. He felt the cold metal against his skin and his voice trembled as he realized the gravity of his situation.

“Don’t- don’t shoot please- don’t shoot me- I’m sorry, please- I-”

The muzzle of the gun traced across his lips, moving across the side of his face to rest against his temple.

“Oh shhh- shh now, it’s your own fault for bringing it in here. We shouldn’t let those bullets go to waste.”

Tears streamed down his face, and Micah sobbed harder than he ever had before in his life. His whole body shook as he tried to say anything to sway the man from doing what he dreaded.

“Don’t kill me please- I’m sorry- please, don’t shoot- I-”

The end of the gun pressed down harder, turning the side of his face flat against the cold ground. 

Justin watched in horror- his limbs and voice utterly useless as he was sapped of all energy. He couldn’t cry out- he couldn’t rush to help- so he just laid there and watched in dreaded anticipation as the man threatened Micah. 

Finally- it was the prisoner. The boy chained up, and beaten and starved that stopped the man in his tracks.

“Stop!” He shouted. His voice broken and raspy- but the word firm and clear. “Please. Please don’t hurt him-” Andrew cried. “I’ll- I’ll do anything to keep him safe, just don- don’t hurt him. Please.” Now tears were streaming down both of the boy’s faces. “Sir- please. I- I’ll do anything.” Andrew’s words and pleas were cut off by his strangle sobs, and a sigh of relief as the man stood up off of the boy, and approached were his prisoner was strung up.

“Th-thank you. Thank you so much-” Andrew cried in relief. A hand tilted his chin up and away from his chest, and then a gentle thumb swiped across his cheek, wiping away a few of his tears.

The man shook his head, and sighed. 

“You look just wonderful when you’re desperate.” He whispered. 

A chill and a choked off sob ran through Andrew’s body. He clenched his eyes tight as fingertips traced across the lines on his stomach- moving up his chest, around his neck, and brushed across his lips. 

“You said you would do anything, right?” 

Andrew nodded. A whisper of a ‘yes’ echoing through his lips. 

“Alright then.” The tip of the pistol replaced the man’s fingers where they rested on Andrew’s mouth, and he felt the cold metal against his lips. 

It dropped a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Open up.” The man ordered.

Andrew complied. He knew he had no choice. 

His body shook and his arms and shoulders trembled, but he parted his lips ever so slightly. Splice placed a hand on the back of Andrew’s head, tilting it at exactly the right angle. 

Andrew was used to a muzzle. He was used to the cold leather tight against his face- the bit between his teeth- but not the harsh muzzle of a gun. 

Splice guided it into his mouth until the tip was tickling the back of his throat, the barrel against his tongue, and the trigger guard just right in front of his lips. 

A small squeak of a whimper leaked out of his throat as the man patted him on the cheek- leaving it sitting in Andrew’s mouth. 

“Hold that there for me will you?” 

And he stepped back towards the smaller boy, trembling on the floor.   

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Tag List: @imagination1reality0@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi@thehopelessopus@burtlederp@whump-me-all-night-long@laves-here@yesthisiswhump@myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19@brutal-nemesis@lunaabsentee@morning-star-whump