The Caretaker’s hands raise slowly as the Whumper aims their gun at them. The Whumpee is on their knees next to the Whumper, their balance unsteady and their head lolling as they try to stay upright. The Caretaker’s face grimaces as they realize they can’t keep quiet about their friend. “You can’t keep doing this,” they say desperately. The Whumper’s head cocks while the gun remains steady. Deadpan, unmoved, they ask: “Why?” Only the sound of the Whumpee’s struggled breaths fill the air. The Whumper repeats themselves again earnestly. “Why?” They look down at the Whumpee, then back to the Caretaker. “What reason is there for me to not get what I want? I have the power, I have the means, I have the wherewithal,” they list off. “So why can’t I?” The Caretaker’s heart sinks as the Whumper’s gun swings from being pointed at them to being pointed at the Whumpee’s head. “Look up,” the Whumper commands. The Whumpee is too dazed to comply at first. “I said look up,” the Whumper commands again. The Whumpee struggles to lift their head, but slowly complies and pulls their chin from their chest to tilt their head back. The Caretaker takes in the sight of their friend’s exhausted and bloodied face. “Your friend thinks I can’t do what I wish. What do you think?” the Whumper asks the Whumpee, the gun still aimed at them emphasizing the directness of their question. The Whumpee just manages to meet the Caretaker’s eyes and shake their head. The Whumper, satisfied, looks back at the Caretaker. “I agree. It is none of their business.”
The Whumpee clenches their teeth as the Whumper adjusts themselves behind them, shifting both their coat and the gun pressed into the Whumpee’s back. The two stand in the middle of a deserted city street in the winter night, the Whumpee facing an exterior ATM. “Colder than a witch’s tit,” the Whumper grumbles. The Whumpee presses buttons to withdraw from their account, repeatedly looking into the convex mirror above them to both survey the Whumper’s position and scan their surroundings for signs of other people. The Whumpee pulls out a stack of bills once the machine presents them. They pause as if unsure of what to do with it. “What now?” they ask. The Whumper looks over their captive’s shoulder and sees the cash. “Throw it in the air like confetti. What do you think what now?” they say sarcastically. The Whumpee takes the money and places it carefully in their own interior coat pocket, which aggravates the Whumper even worse than tossing it in the air - it is supposed to be theirs to take. They press the gun into the Whumpee’s back - hard - and the Whumpee can feel their hand tremors even through their own coat. “I bet it’s been a while since you last used,” the Whumpee taunts them. “I bet that’s why you need it so bad. And I bet you know you’re weak as a kitten, don’t you?” The Whumpee turns around to face the aggravated Whumper, though they keep their hands presented in calm surrender. “Or else what’s stopping you from just taking it from me? Go ahead,” they continue, nodding at the pocket containing the money. The Whumper narrows their eyes at the Whumpee as they keep their wobbling gun pointed forward without reaching for the Whumpee’s pocket. “You know what else tonight has in common with a witch’s tit?” they ask the Whumpee. In a swift move they grab the Whumpee’s arm closest to the pocket and press it hard into the atm, then place the tip of their gun over the Whumpee’s leg. They use their own knee and brute strength as leverage to keep the gun steady with precision aim at the Whumpee’s knee. The two have their faces inches apart as the Whumper pins the Whumpee in place, threatening to shoot at any moment. “It’s mine to take from, as I see fit.”
Halo s01e09:“She Kidnapped Us! She Tortured And Brainwashed Us, Turned Us Into Weapons. Now She’s Turning Us Against Each Other.[…]No Matter What They’ve Done To Us,We’re All We Have Now. It’s Just Us.”
Whumpee tortured for information, beaten inches from death. Only once the gun is turned on an innocent person do they spill everything they know. (Bonus points if the innocent person is Whumpee’s loved one)
Once their torturers are sure Whumpee is telling the truth, they’re patched up and released from captivity.
When Whumpee gets back to their organization, they’re not sure what to expect. Maybe a celebration, a “hey we’re glad you’re not dead and we totally understand that you didn’t have a choice”, something.
They did not expect to be treated like an enemy. They did not expect to be shoved into a small, bare holding cell, roughly searched for trackers or mics.
Their team treats them like a traitor, which Whumpee assumes is what they are now. They are left alone for days on end, not given any food, barely enough water.
When Leader finally comes to visit, Whumpee is thin, pale and sweaty. Maybe one of their wounds got infected, or dehydration is just getting to them.
They look at leader with sad, desperate eyes, silently begging for help.
Leader just glares down at them, and kicks them hard in the ribs.
(Extra bonus points if Whumpee’s “loved one” from earlier was someone on the team, OR MAYBE EVEN LEADER THEMSELF, and it completely breaks Whumpee)
