Carrot Top 51- Restriction

Well, this was originally going to be a lot longer, but I decided to split it up into two separate chapters. Anyways, here’s chapter 51! Chapter 50.Masterlist.

CW: medical whump, experimenting on a whumpee, restraints, power-restricting/shock collars, some lady whump (nothing graphic, very brief), manhandling, possessive whumper, unconscious whumpee.

- - -

“Is this the right place?” Micah whispered.

They had been traveling for nearly four hours, following the directions of the coordinates on the small device. They were all on the edge of their seats- exhausted, and incredibly worried. Mickie finished rebraiding her hair for the hundredth time and wiped the sweat from her palms onto her pants. 

“Well it looks pretty similar to the last time we had to rescue him, so I’d say we’re here.” Justin stated. He finished chugging the water bottle he had in his hand, crumpled it up and tossed it off to the side. 

“The last time?” Micah glanced around- staring at the concrete building, towering walls- a few stories high, glowing faintly in the dark light. “What should- what should I expect?”

“Considering he was practically drowning in a pool of his own blood- whatever that man has done, it’s- it’s going to be bad.” Mickie snarked- her voice trailing off as she stared out towards the building. 

Micah bit back his tongue, trying to swallow the fear. He had to stay level-headed for as much of this as he could. He glanced at Mickie as she zipped up her jacket. She looked so much like her brother- acted a lot like him too.

He wished the first time meeting his boyfriend’s sister would’ve been in better circumstances than a rescue mission.

His boyfriend…

Could he even call him that? 

He obviously knew the boy liked him, that was clear. But if he was ready for a whole other level to their relationship was another question.

As soon as Andrew was better- once he was safe, he’d ask him. He’d make sure of it.

Micah climbed out of the helicopter, following everybody else as he adjusted the pistol tucked in the waistband of his pants. 

They didn’t know he had brought a gun- after all, from their explanations they never needed them because of their powers. But he was just normal. Micah didn’t know how to fight like they did. But he did know how to defend himself.

And this man- whoever this ‘Splice’ was, had obviously done unexplainable horrors to his friend. 

There was no way he was walking in there empty-handed.

“So, Justin and I will walk in there first- hopefully we can minimize any fighting necessary with my controlling powers- and then Mickie, you can disguise you two and follow close behind? Kind of as backup if necessary, but I want you to stay out of sight if possible.” Ali explained.

Everyone nodded, they knew this had to go as smoothly as possible. For Andrew’s sake.

- - -

It had been a little more than eight hours, and he was getting ready for the ninth transfusion. Double checking and triple checking everything- it seemed like it was going well. The cuts had closed up by now, which was good. He needed to retain the new blood- not continue to lose it. Splice admitted he looked beautiful though- the red lines covering the back of his body- the way his hair fell towards the ground- his eyes perfectly closed as he succumbed to the machine. 

He checked the blood in the eighth bag from where it was hung- it was nearly empty- when the door to the room burst open, and two small figures stepped inside.

“You’re early!” Splice cried.

“W-what?” The girl said.

“This is not how I had planned it to go!” He cried, throwing his hands down onto the cart of supplies with a crash. The two kids just stared at him in shock, the boy with a weapon of ice poised to attack, the girl standing just behind his shoulder. Her eyes were so focused on Andrew that she didn’t even glance towards the man as he spoke.

“I needed three more hours. Just three!” Splice groaned in frustration, shoving the cart to the wall with a crash. The girl flinched back as tools and supplies rained to the ground as it toppled.

Splice dug his fingers through his hair. What was he going to do now? The process was going to be interrupted if they tried to rescue him. True he could always restrain the other two while he finished, that was an option, but before he could come up with a plan, the boy jolted towards him.

“Let him go!” He cried as he lunged an attack.

Splice groaned in frustration, knocking Justin back towards the ground with a well-aimed kick. He quickly sprung back to his feet and began throwing punches and attacks as the man tried to defend. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl rushing towards his prisoner where he lay.

“Oh no you don’t-” He stepped away from Justin, causing him to fall off balance. Splice grabbed Ali by the arm as she reached for Andrew and threw her across the room in a swift move. He darted to the control panel- grabbing a lever towards the side.

“Stop!” He shouted. “Don’t move. This lever controls everything he’s hooked up to- I pull it, and all the machines keeping him alive and breathing, will shut off, splat, kapoot- that’s it.”

“No- don’t-” The girl whispered. 

“Oh I won’t hesitate.” He threatened. “It’s very noble that you want to help, and rescue him, but I need you to back away from the boy.” Splice demanded. The two kids did as they were told- holding their hands in the air. “Good. Now it’s very vital that I finish what I was doing, or this whole thing I’ve been working on will be useless.”

At the sound of his words, Splice’s own form seemed to melt off of his body. It pooled to the ground before rising up and splitting in two, creating two other replicas of the man. 

Ali shuddered as one of them approached her- they always looked so dead inside- nothing behind their eyes, no thoughts- no feelings, just whatever command they were given. 

“Grab her.” He commanded.

Ali couldn’t mind control something that didn’t have a mind of it’s own.

Her powers were useless against it as the figure pulled her arms tight behind her back, holding her in a tight grip. Justin darted towards her to help but the second clone grabbed his arm and pulled him back. 

He cried out, trying to swing a punch with his other arm but it was blocked just as quickly as he swung it. 

“Hey now-” Splice called out- motioning towards the lever- “I suggest you cooperate. For your friend’s sake here.”

Justin glared towards the man and let his arms be pulled behind his back with a grumble- glancing towards Ali to make sure she was alright. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of Andrew the entire time. 

“There we are, that’s better.” The man stated. He disconnected the drip bag that was now empty, and set it off to the side.

“What are you doing to him?” Ali asked. Her voice wavered with worry as she watched her friend lie there- unmoving, suspended in the air.

“Oh you don’t need to worry about that. Let’s get you two out of the way for the moment, shall we?”

Splice moved to the cart where he had collected a few extra collars. They were scattered about with the other supplies, but he managed to pick them out of the mess. The goal was to make more as time went on, for all future prisoners, but these other three he had rounded up would have to do, even if they may have been a little imperfect. 

He slipped one over his arm, grabbing the second in his hand. He pressed his thumb against a button and moved towards the girl.

“Hold still now- this will only pinch a little.”

“What are you- hey-” She cried out as the collar was locked around her throat, a sharp pinch in the back of her neck from the prongs. Almost instantly waves of pain shot up the back of her neck, exploding into her head. She groaned out- this was far worse than any migraine- and soon her vision began going spotty.

Her limbs felt heavy, and her knees began to buckle. 

Justin lashed out towards her as she started to fall. The clone struggled to hold him back, but as the other one laid Ali down by the wall it quickly came to restrain Justin as well.

“What did you do!” He cried. “What did you do to her!” He was seething with anger- thrashing about as a clone struck the back of his knees, tearing his arms behind him as he crashed to the ground. 

Justin watched with terror as she groaned and writhed on the floor- her hands clutching the sides of her head. His attention was quickly pulled away Splice approached him next with the second collar. 

“No- get that away from me!” 

Splice wrenched his head back with a fistful of his hair, exposing his neck and soon the collar was locked around his throat as well. He winced at the pain and nearly instantly began to feel slightly dizzy. 

“What is-” his fingers reached towards his throat. “What is this-” his breathing began to quicken.

“They’re power restricting, isn’t wonderful? Much easier than a surgical procedure, like we had to use last time” Splice explained. His clones came back and melded back into his form, as Justin collapsed on the ground- panting for breath.

“It’s different for each person. They’re beautifully made, but of course I’m a little biased, considering they are my creation.” He gestured towards the boy- his white hair drooping to the ground- his pale skin. “Andrew here simply became more easier to work with. For her, she’s probably having the worse migraine of her life, and you,” Splice knelt down in front of Justin- his face beginning to feel clammy as he tilted his chin up “-you will probably start feeling the affects of dehydration pretty soon. Your powers being water-based and all.”

Justin looked towards Ali once more. Herbody was shaking as her arms wrapped around her head. His limbs felt heavy as he dragged himself over to where she lay on the ground. His fingers fumbled uselessly over the edges of her collar- trying to find a clasp, an opening, or something.

“I wouldn’t recommend that if I were you.” Splice taunted.

“Take it off-” he pleaded- “it’s hurting her-”

“That won’t work- they’re encoded with my fingerprint. It’s the only way to remove them.”

Ali grumbled as he fussed with it some more- ignoring all the man’s direction.

“Take it off-” he demanded.

Splice shook his head, reaching for a small remote he kept in his pocket.

“Alright, well if you won’t listen to me-”

And then there was fire coursing through his veins. Justin flew back from Ali, his back crashing against the ground.

“Did I mention they have incapacitating abilities as well?”

The shocks coursed through his veins- spasming every muscle, tightening his lungs- and Justin screamed. Splice knelt near the boy as he thrashed against the ground, and waved the remote towards the girl.

“Next time- it’ll be her collar that goes off, understand?” 

Through his groans of pain Justin nodded, sweat pouring down his forehead as he spasmed. 

“Good. I suggest you listen from now on, yes?” 

Splice rose to his feet as he turned up the dial for the strength of the shocks, and Justin screamed once more.

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

Have a lil picrew of Andrew and Micah.

Look at these boys I love them so much.

Picrew here

Carrot Top 50- Come Find Me

Alrighty, this is picking up the pace, and I finally figured out where it’s going. Here’s chapter 50. Chapter 49.Masterlist.

CW: medical whump, restraints, creepy/possessive whumper, blood mention, mention of previous injuries.

- - -

It had been nearly fourteen hours. 

Fourteen hours since he had started this whole process with this new system. The machine, or whatever you’d want to call it.

Splice just needed to check and adjust some things, and prepare the final ingredients.

He moved towards the monitors in his office that connected to the cameras and screens he had set up displaying the boy. 

His breathing was just fine- as it should be. The machine ensured that. His heart was slow- maybe a little too slow but that wasn’t a concern for now. And his blood levels were at nearly 70 percent. That was perfect. In order for this to work he needed to have lost between 35 to 40 percent of his blood. Too much and it could be irreversible, but too little, and the new blood wouldn’t take hold.

Thankfully the system was keeping him in perfect balance, but now it was time once again to check up on his favorite patient. 

He was exactly how the man had left him. A gorgeous display of limbs- clammy and cold- glistening with a sheen of sweat. The pale white from his hair and his skin was a gorgeous contrast to the red of the blood that slowly dripped from the cuts he had made earlier. It left a puddle around the drain- slowly seeping down in streaks of red. He paced around the contraption, making sure all of the equipment and tools were functioning properly. 

As he moved the man trailed the tips of his fingers along the boy’s skin, finally resting the back of his hand on his forehead. He was cold to the touch- freezing even. 

But he didn’t move, or even flinch. He pried an eyelid open to find the white’s of Andrew’s eyes staring back. He let it close and after a few pats on his cheek there was finally some sign of life. 

He fluttered his eyes- staring straight up into the ceiling. His chest continued to rise and fall at the same steady pace even as his gaze landed on the man standing by his side. 

“Good- you’re still with me.” 

The man was talking but all Andrew could register was a slew of noise- it was indiscernible. His body had gone numb- not in the sense that he couldn’t feel- though he was sure the senses in his fingers and toes were long gone by now- but in the way his mind had completely disconnected from his body. 

“-begin, shall we?” the man stated. 

Andrew stared at the ceiling once more as he vaguely registered movement around him. The man was gathering things. He began with the boy’s right arm- and using the tubes already in his vein, he began to withdraw even more blood than what he had already lost- keeping a steady eye on his vital systems the entire time. 

After he was at the right blood loss level for the process, he flushed through some saline, before moving to his left arm. 

From the cart he had wheeled down from his office, he withdrew the first sample of new blood. 

‘Splice blood sample 1 of 12’ was the label on the bag. Eleven others just like it rested in the cart. 200 milliliters in each, twelve in total. Perfectly enough to replace what he’d lost. One bag every hour- for the next twelve hours. Then he could be taken off the machine, monitored, and experimented with to see if the process had worked. 

He rigged up the bag to the top of the IV pole, connected the tubes to the vein in his arm, and let the blood begin to flow.

Splice brushed the hair away from Andrew’s face as his eyes fell closed once more, letting the machine run it’s course through his body.

“I’ll be back in an hour.” He whispered.

- - -

“Hey what- what time is it?” Ali stretched with a yawn, the covers falling away from her as she pulled herself up to sitting. It was still dark outside the window- they couldn’t have been asleep for long. 

Instantly stabbing pains shot behind her eyes as the light of her phone lit up in her hand. She was used to the migraines, but it still took a second for her to register the words and numbers on the lockscreen. 

“That can’t be right- no- Justin?” 

She shook his shoulder from where he lay on the other side of the bed. 

“Hey- wake up it’s been- I don’t know how long it’s been- goodness- Justin!”

“Hmm- what?” He rolled over on his side until he was facing her, nuzzling his forehead into her lap. “Wha time isit?” He mumbled.

“It’s a little after ten- but it’s- it’s tomorrow night- we couldn’t have slept that long. That’s like- like 27 hours.” She nudged him again as he tried to cuddle her back to sleep. “Justin! Come on, get up something’s-” She shot out of bed, throwing away the covers as her heart dropped in her stomach. 

“Wha- where- where are you going?” He called- reaching for her to come back to bed as she rushed out of the room.

“Andrew!” She called.

Justin swore under his breath and pulled away the covers. He stepped into the hallway rubbing the sleep from his eyes when he saw the living room out of the corner of his eye down the hall.

“Oh shit.” 

There was a mess everywhere. The coffee table was shattered in two large pieces, broken slivers of wood scattered about. As he looked around closer he saw the blood stains. Smeared into the carpet- leaving a dark and sticky splotch, and then a few splatters on the wall. 

He winced as he stepped on something sharp- a shard of glass. Rubbing his foot he glanced at the picture that had fallen down and shattered.

Graduation. Ali in the middle- the two boys on either side of her with their arms around her shoulders, each in their blue and white caps and gowns. They all looked so young then- freshly eighteen, so innocent and naive, ready for the future.

He picked up the picture from the mess of glass and blood and brushed it off, setting it on the couch before he heard a thud coming from the hallway.

“Ali-”

He found her collapsed against the wall- tears streaming down her face. Her hands were shaking as she stared at a crumpled piece of paper in her grip. He got down on his knees in front of her.

“What’s that- hey, let me see-”

She held it out to him, wiping her eyes. She’d already read it over and over.

“What is it?” He asked.

“He’s gone” She sobbed. “They- they took him, he’s- he’s not here, he-” Before she could say anymore another sob welled up in her chest and she buried her face in her hands.

Justin carefully uncrumpled the paper, noticing the scratchy handwriting- the smudged blue ink.

“To my two best friends:

I’ve written and rewritten this a thousand times. I hoped I wouldn’t have to write it, but I figured it would come in handy someday. If you’re reading this I guess that day is today.

Splice has been visiting. Not just in my dreams, but here, at home. He killed Dr. Howe and took his place. Please, I don’t want you to feel bad about any of this because it was my choice to keep it from you. I didn’t want any of you getting hurt because I tried to protect myself.

So now I guess this is it. I’m sorry we couldn’t say goodbye in person. 

Tell Micah I’m sorry I left, and that I wish we could’ve been more, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. Let Dr. Tusik know how grateful I am for all the help and advice he’s given me over the years. And tell Mickie she’s so incredibly strong, and that her, and mom, and Erica will be just fine.

I love you all so much. If there’s one thing you can do for me now that I’m gone, is to be happy. I beg of you- don’t come after me no matter what. I don’t want him to hurt you too. So be happy- live your lives, go on and get married and have annoying kids that are just like you, and tell them all stories of their Uncle Andrew. 

It’ll be better for you all now that I’m gone.

I’m sorry,

Andrew.”

Justin crumpled the paper back up in his fist, shoving it into his pocket. Reading it once was enough. He could already tell from the tear stains and the scratched out words and carefully stated phrases- that it was just as hard for him to write as it was for them to read. 

He held out his hand to Ali as he stood up, and instantly pulled her into his arms. He held her as she cried, trying to keep his own tears at bay, and then gripped her by the shoulders, brushing her hair out of her face and wiping away her tears. Her dark eyes fell through her tangled hair- staring up at him for some answer to this nightmare.

“Darling- don’t blame yourself.”

“I could have stopped it.” She whispered.

“You don’t know that. That man he’s- he’s tricky. It’s not your fault.”

She shoved him away from her as she stumbled back to the wall.

“But it is!” She cried. “It is my fault! Because I’m the one who notices things, Justin. I can read minds for God’s sake! I should’ve known, I should’ve figured it out, God, I should have done something!”

“Ali- stop. Blaming yourself isn’t going to fix anything-” He reached for her hands again but she shoved him away.

“How many times has he been here, Justin? How many times has ‘Dr. Howe’ been here to help Andrew, when all the time it was Splice! He’s- he’s been in our house, under our roof- tormenting our friend!”

“Ali you couldn’t have known-”

She was nearly hysterical as she sobbed, the endless amounts of guilt, and grief, and fear and pain nearly causing her to collapse in on herself.

“All the times we didn’t think he was getting better- or that he was just having a rough day- and he was being torturedin our own house!”

At this point Justin wrapped her up in his arms. She thrashed about trying to pull away but he was far stronger. He held her against his chest, carrying her into the bedroom as she sobbed and protested. He set her on the edge of the bed, standing with his legs on either side of her knees. She sobbed as he gripped the sides of her face in his hands. Her hands reached up to grip the front of his tanktop- clutching the white fabric in shaking fingers. 

“Ali- Ali honey, I need you to look at me. You’re gonna shut down if you don’t breathe- I don’t want you retreating into your mind where I can’t reach you.”

He forced her face up to look into his- her eyes were full of tears, her cheeks red.

“Just breathe with me, I know things aren’t okay right now, but let’s focus on what we can do about it. Don’t overwhelm yourself with thoughts that are out of your control.”

Finally after a few minutes Ali was able to calm down- her breathing becoming slowly more steady. 

“There- that’s better. You alright?” She nodded and he sat beside her on the bed, gripping her hands in his. “Good. Now, what we’re going to do first is get dressed. Then we can call Dr. Tusik and start making a plan.”

She wiped away a few remaining tears. 

“A- a plan?”

“Well, we’re obviously going after him, aren’t we? We can’t leave him alone with that man- we’ve found him once, we can do it again.”

They were interrupted by the sound of a noise down the hall- a knock on the front door, followed by it opening slowly. Justin shot to his feet as footsteps padded into the living room, and then stopped. 

“Stay here-” He whispered. He focused his power, harnessing it behind his fingertips in a moment to strike, before he saw the familiar blue hair- the small stature.

Micah stared back at him from where he had been glancing around the room. He wore tight jeans, and a thick sweater- one that looked- that looked vaguely familiar to one Andrew had owned-

“I- I’m sorry.” He stated. “I know it’s late, but Andrew hasn’t answered me in a few days and I- I couldn’t get ahold of you- I tried knocking but there was no answer, I got worried, I couldn’t sleep, and I-”

He was cut off as Ali came down the hallway, having heard his voice. She wrapped him in a hug and he carefully returned it, continuing to take in the mess of the living room.

“Damn, what- what happened?” He asked. “Is Andrew alright? Where is he?”

Ali shook her head, trying to hold back another slew of tears that were threatening to burst. 

“I’m sorry I- I’m so, so sorry.”

Justin led her back to sit on the couch, and then pulled the crumpled paper from his pocket, offering it to the boy. Micah took it carefully before unfolding it and beginning to read. 

Once he finished he handed it back to Justin, and wiped a few tears that had streamed down his face.

“Alright- so who is this bastard, and where do we find him?”

Ali stared straight ahead- pointing up towards the top of the front door, they had nearly missed it. 

“I- I think there’s our answer.” She whispered.

There, taped to the door was a small device. About half the size of a cellphone, with a few buttons on the side, and a thicker pack on the back. Underneath, written in scratchy marks was the phrase,

‘Come find me.’ The black marker lines stood out on the paper where it was taped to the door- as if taunting them.

“What the hell-” Micah whispered.

Justin stormed over, tearing the device off of the door and crumpling the paper. He pushed a button on the side and the screen of the device lit up. Not even a second afterwards he dropped it with a thud onto the carpet.

“What the hell is right-” he mumbled.

“Let me see-” Ali stated. Justin tried to grab it before she could reach, but it was too late as the image flashed in front of her.

She yelped, covering her mouth right after.

It was an image of Andrew, a shadowy picture, dim lighting, but it was clear what the image was. 

It was Andrew, chained up in the back of his closet.

His wrists were strung up over the bar, and a cloth draped over his eyes, with that- that muzzle locked over his face. He was in nothing but loose sweatpants, and his bare chest was littered with bruises and marks. Even at a brief glance and with the dim lighting she could tell they were fresh.

Her stomach churned. She wanted to throw up. This was their house- Andrew’s bedroom, it was- it was his closet. She was right about him being tortured under their noses. What else had the man done while they were blissfully unaware? She blinked back the headache and tears as the screen flashed once more, revealing a set of coordinates atop of a map- his location.

Micah grabbed it as it slid from her hands. She curled in on herself, trying to breathe through the wracking sobs. 

Micah studied the image for a moment. His breath hitched for a moment, but Justin couldn’t read an expression on his face.

“So this is a kidnapping.” He stated.

Justin shrugged, trying to come up with a response.

“Well, it’s not that simple, he-”

“No-” Micah stated more firmly. “It’s a kidnapping. He was kidnapped. We need to call the police.”

“No!” Justin and Ali cried in unison. They glanced at each other for help before Ali spoke up. She grabbed Micah’s hand- her voice shaky.

“I promise we’ll explain more, but you have to trust us.” 

After a moment Micah nodded, and pocketed the device, shifting his shoulders in Andrew’s oversized sweater. 

“Alright. We don’t call the police. So what do we do then?” 

Ali stood up, wiping her tears.

“We go get our friend back.”

- - -

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

Carrot Top 49- Stars and Constellations

Here we go! I’m getting excited for where this is going. I did give myself the feels with this chapter though. Chapter 48.Masterlist.

CW: Restraints, drugged whumpee, medical whump, knives, blood, some angst and grief and just general sad emotions.

- - -

Ursa Major- Orion- Scorpius. Cassiopeia, Ursa Minor- Leo- the Hercules constellation- that one was his favorite. It was complex, and sometimes hard to find, but it was beautiful.

He ran through the names of all the stars and constellations he could remember- trying hard to focus while his brain went fuzzy. He felt like he was floating- his vision black behind his eyes- so black he could nearly visualize specks and dots that he could pretend was the night sky.

His body lay suspended- in a terrifying artwork of chains and platforms- wires and tubes- drugs and fluids being pushed in and through his body, as the device running down his throat forced his lungs to continue to beat.

After probably half an hour the drugs had latched onto his system- dripping through in a slow and steady rhythm. It made him feel as if he was floating.

As if his body wasn’t his own- like it was separate from his mind and thoughts. The only good thing that came was that it dulled the pain that had been coursing fiercely through him prior to that moment. His ankles were a dull pulse- like the weight of your own tongue in your mouth. You know it’s there- but is instantly uncomfortable once you’re aware of it.

He barely twitched a finger anymore- barely attempted to wiggle a toe or flutter an eyelash.

He couldn’t sleep- something was stopping him from slipping into unconsciousness- but it was easier to keep his eyes closed.

And so- his mind raced with everything he could’ve imagined.

He couldn’t feel a thing across his body- but his mind was a whole other universe.

- - -

There was a warm hand brushing against his. A pinky finger- dark complexion, smooth, soft skin with black-painted nails. It rested over his, as if dipping a toe into the edge of a pool, testing the waters before diving in.

Fingers interlocked with his, palms touching- the smaller hand resting underneath his own.

There were no scars- no shake or tremble- or cramping up of severed muscles- just warmth on warmth.

A soft pair of lips- brushing against his knuckles and leading to the back of his palm.

A soft head of hair- brushing against the side of his face as it rested against his shoulder. The scent of coconut and lime shampoo- thick waves- the shiny color with darkened roots from faded hair dye.

He turned his head towards the other boy’s- their eyes meeting. His gaze was met with a smirk- that half turned corner of lip that sent his whole chest ablaze.

Andrew’s eyes shot open with a flash of shock- that fire had crept back into his chest- his lungs pounding against the strength of the machine.

He willed himself to calm down, which wasn’t difficult considering it was easier to lull his body into submission, than it was to fight.

He soon fell back into the rhythm and started to let his mind wander once more.

“So how do you like your new friend?”

His eyes shot back open- the beeping of the heart monitor getting faster as he saw the man approaching. He trailed his gaze once more to the ceiling as his body was forced back to a steady rhythm.

Splice glanced over the monitors- taking a few notes and comparisons on a stack of clipboards.

“It seems we’re fairly well-adjusted. We’ll move on to the next faze then.” Andrew’s eyes trailed over to the man. “I’m excited for this part.”

He stared towards the ceiling again- not liking the sound of where this was going- and then he felt himself rising in the air once more.

The tubes and wires followed with him- but there was a slight tug at the device and instruments down his throat as his head rose from the platform. It sent waves of fire down his throat and inside his chest before settling once more.

Andrew listened as the platforms were unscrewed from the floor and tossed aside- he was level with the man’s head- resting just above his shoulder and the ceiling maybe a foot or two above his face.

“Now I should let you know, everything I do is for a reason. It’s all carefully thought out- planned- prepared.” The man traced a hand around the edges of Andrew’s body as he spoke- sending goosebumps along his skin. “I just need to adjust some dosages of certain things here, and then we can get started.”

He could feel his skin starting to tingle- nerves lighting up as feeling came back into parts of his body. It wasn’t full awareness- but he was more keen on the throbbing of his ankles- the ache in his hips from the pressure of the chains- the jabbing in the back of his neck from the collar- all the little things that made him just slightly more miserable- but it wasn’t unbearable.

He had a feeling that was going to change very soon.

There was a small prick at the back of his neck, just right under the base of the collar. His eyes clenched tight- but there was no pain. Just the pressure of the tip of a knife piercing skin.

“Hmm- interesting.” Splice muttered. He stood underneath the boy, wiping the drop of blood away with a finger and brushing it off on his pants. “Well then, let’s continue.”

The knife once again pierced the same spot- and then proceeded to tear it’s way down the length of Andrew’s spine. Splice watched as the skin split- a ribbon of red welling up behind before dripping down in solemn thuds to the floor. He lifted the knife once the tip had reached the top of Andrew’s tailbone- right above the line where the metal band met the top of his shorts.

Andrew felt the warmth of his blood seeping across his skin- clinging to it before giving up and dropping to the floor. He had felt the pressure of it tearing through skin- but there was no pain.

Splice wiped off the edge of the knife on a sanitized rag, setting it down for a moment before checking the screens.

“Are you feeling any pain?” The man asked.

Andrew glanced towards him- unable to answer.

“Blink once for no- twice for yes.”

The boy thought for a moment. He felt the pressure- the coolness of the blade and the warmth of his blood- but he hadn’t really felt the pain. He could lie- maybe that would pause whatever experiment this was- but when had Splice cared about the pain he was in before? It wouldn’t change anything if he did.

He blinked once.

“Good. I’ll continue then.”

Andrew clenched his eyes as the tip of the blade pierced right underneath his shorts on the back of his thigh. There was the edge of a fresh welt right there, blossoming in a mountain against his skin- a thick band running down the middle from the belt that was used.

There was a little resistance- but Splice sighed with contentment as the skin gave and the knife carved through freely. It trailed down his thigh, behind his knee, and all the way to his ankles, right above the metal cuff.

Andrew stared back at the opposite side of the room. He wanted nothing to be a part of this. But unfortunately it was his body- though it wasn’t his choice to make.

Once the knife pierced the same spot on the other leg, he willed his mind to be absolutely anywhere but here.

- - -

His fingers ran absentmindedly through Micah’s hair as the boy’s head rested on his stomach. He stared up at his bedroom ceiling from the bed they were lying in, blankets hanging off the edge, pillows scattered about.

Andrew had woken up in a warm pile of limbs and fabric- an arm draped across his chest, a leg creeping atop of his, a soft face curling into the side of his neck.

He didn’t think asking the boy to spend the night would’ve worked- but it did. He didn’t expect it to feel so natural- or comforting or peaceful or- well, he had actually slept. Andrew stretched out with a yawn, feeling the cuts along his back from a few days prior and he winced- hoping they hadn’t torn open.

Micah’s eyes blinked up at him from where his head rested on the pillow.

“G-morning handsome-” he mumbled.

Andrew smiled.

He hadn’t smiled this much since he had come home. But something about the boy- about the glint in his hair- the softness of his skin- just looking at him made Andrew want to smile.

“How’d you sleep?” He asked. His voice was rough and low- still fighting back the sleep.

Micah nodded, humming to himself before propping up on his elbows, his head resting on his hand.

“Good- you’re very warm.”

Andrew blushed. He stared as the edge of the sweater Micah was wearing fell around his shoulder- exposing the soft skin of his collarbone- that was- that was his sweater.

His navy blue sweater with the too-long sleeves that he liked to roll up, with the knitted pattern that a grandma would make. He had found it at a thrift store for seven dollars. But now- now Micah was wearing it- and the navy blue matched his hair, though it wasn’t as shiny. The sleeves pooled far past his wrists and hung loose around his frame, and it was- gosh, Micah was-

Andrew turned his head away before he could continue staring much more than he already had. The boy had crawled his way over to Andrew’s stomach, resting his head there as they stared up at the ceiling.

At first Andrew’s breath caught in his throat- the pressure more sensitive as he remembered his injuries- all the damage- and the vulnerability that came- but Micah was different. Micah was always different- in a good way.

Andrew’s face tilted down to meet Micah’s as his eyes peeked up from underneath his hair. It was usually slicked back- styled neatly- but his bedhead created an adorable messy mop of unusual angles.

A gentle hand reached up, mindless fingers trailing along the edges of his face, brushing across his nose.

“I like your freckles.” Micah mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“They’re really pretty.”

Andrew couldn’t have blushed harder. Micah’s hand went back to rest on his stomach and he stared back upwards again, as if trying to visualize something from the paint patterns on the ceiling.

“They remind me of- of stars. Like constellations. When you’re far enough from the city that you can look in the sky and that’s all you see- and the harder you look the more you find and they just go on- and on- and it’s beautiful and-”

“I like the stars.” Was all that Andrew could think of to say.

- - -

Splice stepped back to look at his artwork. The boy had his eyes closed- neck leaned back- his pale, limp hair- (or what was left of it)- drooped to the ground. There were no freckles across his skin- they had faded away into the clammy white that was now his complexion.

It was no matter though- the freckles weren’t important. And frankly- the paler complexion looked beautiful in contrast to the stark red of the blood that was bursting through his skin.

Dark lines carved in patterns down his limbs. One ran down his spine- followed by several others crossing perpendicular- under his shoulderblades, across his hips, and right below his neck- creating a cross formation as the line continued down each of his arms, all the way through his palms. Two more carved down the backs of his legs towards his ankles- with some on the bottoms of his feet for good measure, and a few more across the backs of his thighs.

It was beautiful- carefully thought out and well-planned. And perfectly executed.

Not a vein- artery, or vital blood vessel had been nicked. Otherwise he’d bleed out to fast. The man didn’t need him to die- just to be drained of as much of himself as he could in order for the next phase of this experiment.

True, he could’ve drained his blood in a more, medical safe way, which he would be doing as well, but this was far more, aesthetically pleasing you could say.

The blood dripped to the floor in red ribbons, pooling down before running to the drain in rivers. It was beautiful- he really was a piece of artwork.

Splice lowered the boy slightly until he was resting on the platforms once more, and went back to check the levels of his vitals. He adjusted the dosage of some of the drugs he was on- he needed to have some level of feeling and pain- so that his mind could send the right signals to start repairing his body, and accept the new fluids he’d be given. But everything looked just as it should- the boy could lay undisturbed for a few hours as he bled out and be just fine in time for the new blood to be introduced.

“Ah, you are awake.” The man stated. “Don’t worry- I know you probably don’t feel good, but everything is going perfectly according to plan. I’ll be back in a few hours to continue the next phase. I’m excited for this one.”

The boy’s eyes darted about, trying to recollect everything that was going on but his brain was fuzzy and disoriented from the loss of blood and the heavy drugs.

He heard that same laughing as footsteps grew quieter.

“Don’t go anywhere.” The man stated- and Andrew was left alone once more.

He could barely feel anything. There was a warmth from underneath him- it seemed to be only down his back- along the underside of his legs and arms.

He could hear dripping- the wet thuds against the floor in steady rhythms all around him.

And then he remembered the knife, the cuts it made dragging through his skin- and he shuddered at thinking how he looked beneath the chains as his blood dripped to the floor.

He closed his eyes- feeling the steady rhythm of his lungs beating inside his chest as the air rushed through the tubes down his throat.

He saw spots behind his vision as his eyelids fluttered. Spots that danced in his mind- echoing of the stars- the constellations of the night sky.

The stars that-

“They remind me of stars.” He had said. “Of the constellations in the country sky- neverending and- and beautiful.”

His voice played through in his mind over and over and over and over again. He wished he could remember more conversations- more words of peace and comfort and joy and- and love.

And love-

He didn’t think he’d ever been or love- or he’d ever get the chance to be in love.

But that boy-

The way his mouth curled up to the side in a half-smirk or a smile, flashing a hint of teeth as his hair fell over his face. The way his hair brushed behind his piercings- flashing beautifully behind his ear and framing the features of his face.

His chest tightened but Andrew ignored it as the way the soft hands held him grew in his memory. The way they brushed through his hair- or down the sides of his face. The shape of that boy’s hand in his- and he-

Goodness, Andrew hadn’t even kissed the boy.

He had never kissed him- never seen what his lips felt like or got to feel that rush of adrenaline and joy as they held each other in passion- or shared all their secrets and bared their souls as they held each other close at night and-

Oh he wanted it.

Andrew had never felt like this before- never even thought it was a possibility.

But for a brief moment it was.

But now it would only be memories. The memories and the regrets and the things he never got to have or never got to do. His chest hurt- growing tighter and tighter as the pain and longing welled up inside of him. He clenched his eyes tight as the fire grew in his chest- his breath hiccuping in sobs from the pain and the loss. It was hard to allow his chest to fall back into rhythm as the grief overtook him. The boy was still there- still alive- and well- and healthy-

But Andrew would never get to hold him again- or look into those gorgeous, dark eyes- or hold his hand with the painted nails- or watch another movie cuddled up on the couch and-

And god did it hurt.

It hurt more than anything he had felt. More than being whipped- or burned- or cut open- or beaten because this, this wasn’t a wound that could be closed up in a few days or patch with bandages.

He knew that for the rest of his life- the rest of his time with this man- that was a wound that would never close.

Andrew loved that boy.

He knew that now. The knowledge of never seeing him again, or getting those opportunities- it all only made him love Micah even more.

But now it would have to be like the stories of those greek gods- Only existing as the memories of constellations in the night sky.

- - -

@imagination1reality0, @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi, @thehopelessopus,@burtlederp,@whump-me-all-night-long@lave-e@yesthisiswhump@myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19@brutal-nemesis​@lunaabsentee

Carrot Top 54- Compensation

Ugh, this chapter was so tricky to write. I wanted to use several different povs and stuff, but I think this works. So here is the next chapter! Part 53.Masterlist.

CW: a lot of pain, and descriptions of pain, restraints, talk about old injuries, lots of threats, electrocution (shock collar), knives, guns, choking, whips (some of this is threatened, some is used), a lot of blood, intimate/creepy whumper, multiple whumpees, (Splice is just an all-around dick, sorry.)

- - -

There was fire coursing through his veins.

It was no more than a dull warmth- an ache- that traveled up the back of his spine, and along each and every cut and mark that trailed it’s way around his body. His ankles were still throbbing- swollen and purple- but he couldn’t feel much pain. 

From his small amount of coherence, it didn’t seem like he could feel his hands or his feet. He hung limply in the chains around his wrists- each breath a labored effort as he tried to get his lungs to pump against the strain of his own body weight. 

Splice was speaking. 

He was retelling- and going over every injury- every single scar- and story and torture session- and moment of pain and humiliation. And his friends were listening to every second of it.

Micah, was listening to every second of it. 

Micah had already seen the lesson Splice had taught him. The conditioned responses that he answered without hesitation. The answers that he had come to believe. 

That he belonged to Splice. That he was nothing more than a tool, or a toy. To be used as the man saw it- all because he deserved it. Because he was nothing.

The man had taken him once. 

He had found his freedom- and for a moment- a brief period of time, Andrew believed he could maybe find happiness again. He could maybe get better- and recover. 

And then it was all stripped away once more. 

Except now his friends were here too. 

It wasn’t just his life he was sacrificing. It wasn’t just his body that was being tortured and beaten- it wasn’t just his mind that would be broken and shattered. 

So as he heard Micah crying- as he saw the man towering over him- a- a gun, pressed to the side of his face and the pleas and begs of mercy that came from his friend- Andrew knew he had to do something.

“Please!” He had cried. “Please don’t- don’t hurt him.” He had said he’d do anything. Sacrifice himself- give up what little he had left- as long as his friend remained safe. But it had worked.

Tears leaked from Andrew’s eyes as he held the gun in between his teeth- his lips closed around the cool metal- his jaw aching after a few moments from the strain. 

His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as fingers brushed over his body. He felt the man’s hand trail up the soft flesh of his stomach- fingering over the old stab wound as he explained what had happened. It trailed across the lines over his ribs that he had made with the knife- traveling up the line across his chest. The line that tore right down the middle- from where he had been carved open and patched back together from the inside out. 

Andrew’s breath hitched as his wrists were grabbed and his back was turned. 

He felt shame blush over his cheeks as the hands carded down his back. Trailing over every whip mark- every slash of the blade, every sign of a beating. 

And then Micah was screaming. 

Andrew couldn’t make out the words he was saying- but he could hear the pain, and the desperation in the other boy’s voice. 

As Micah cried and shouted- Andrew could feel the shame- and the humiliation blossoming over his skin. His stomach churned- his face flushing and a sweat dripping more fiercely from his skin. 

He knew the brand was sitting there- right in between his shoulders. It was all too painful of a reminder. It was a permanent reminder of who he belonged to. 

Andrew heard a few things in the events that followed. There was a small conversation between Splice and Micah, that he couldn’t quite make out- a whispered plea- and then pain shot through his jaw.

He heard a loud bang- a strangled scream- a low whine- and then something was shoved in his mouth once more.

He felt a stream of spit down his chin as the familiar leather of the muzzle wrapped around his face. It took a minute to realize the whine was him- his jaw was on fire. 

Another scream drew his attention away- and through his blurry tear-filled vision he saw spurts of blood on the floor- he could tell that was Justin on the ground- 

He quickly put the events together and his stomach jumped in his throat- but the muzzle wouldn’t let anything get anywhere. 

Splice could read Andrew’s thoughts through his eyes as he turned to look at the man. 

“Oh don’t be so upset- it’s just his shoulder.” Splice stated. “Now, like I said- is anyone going to keep me from doing what I want?” 

Andrew shook his head and the man turned towards Micah. 

He shook his head lightly- and then he turned to Justin. 

The boy was lying on his back, gripping his shoulder- trying not to writhe in pain as he grit his teeth. 

“What about you- hmm?” The man taunted- coming to stand over top of the where the boy lay. “Are you gonna stay down- where you belong?”

“You- you bastard-” Justin groaned out. “You shot me!” 

“Oh I’m well aware of that. But I won’t be tolerating anymore outbursts- or attempts at an attack- or anything similar, understand?” 

“Go to hell-” 

Splice shook his head- and placed his shoe on top of the wound- pressing down slightly.

Justin’s head slammed back into the floor with a crack and he gasped back a scream. 

“Get- get off-” he wheezed. “-just stop– aaggh!”

Splice dug the heel of his shoe further into the wound- blood pooling underneath the boy as his head arched back in a scream.

The chains above Andrew’s arms where he hung rattled as he thrashed about. He could barely see or understand what was happening- but he could hear the screams. 

“Stop it!” Micah yelled. 

Justin was thrashing about from the pain- his face going white- and he let out a strangled gasp when the man finally let off.   

“Alright- alright- I’ll let him bleed out naturally.” Splice held his hands in the air and Micah breathed a sigh of relief. 

Justin glanced to where Ali was curled up on the floor- she was slightly shaking- arms wrapped tight around her head but she hadn’t moved or muttered a sound. Justin somehow managed to pull himself closer- reaching out a shaking hand to brush against her shoulder before he collapsed. 

“Stop- please- for god’s sake-” Micah pleaded. “What do you want? What do you want from us?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” The man laughed. “I want him. I have wonderful things planned, things that I already started to accomplish- when you all had to come in and interrupt. After all, I wasn’t expecting you all for at least another day.”

“What- what plan?” Micah mumbled. He needed to keep the man talking. The more that he talked- the less he could do to hurt anyone. 

“Well, the first part is getting you all out of the way. You know, crush his hope and all chances of rescue.“ He chuckled to himself. "It seems like I already have two down, and you’re the only one left.” Splice knelt down in front of the boy- tilting his chin up with the tip of his finger. “So, how would you like to be taken out, hmm?” 

Micah’s mind was racing. His heart lodged in his throat- his boyfri-best friend, was chained up- hanging by his arms in front of him. His only other help was unconscious or bleeding out.

Out of the corner of his eyes he saw a flash of movement from behind the man. He didn’t look at it for long- not wanting to give anything away but he could feel Mickie’s presence. At least she was still here.

For her sake he wished she was at least able to escape- to save herself.

Micah’s eyes met the man in front of him.

“A knife, perhaps?” He stated. “I could cut you up into little pieces- or- or carve lines in your skin and watch you bleed out.” A thin- bony hand wrapped around the boy’s neck- resting right above the collar. Micah’s eyes grew wide. “Or I could strangle the air out of you until there’s nothing left. Leaving you gasping and struggling until your heart stops. How’s that sound?” 

Micah’s mind was racing as the hand cinched tighter around his throat. He managed to focus on the man- and not the movement going on behind him. He had to keep his attention. 

Splice dropped him to the floor- leaving him gasping. Unable to prop himself up with his hands behind his back, he lay on the ground- chest heaving for air. 

“Or- or, and this one is my favorite. I could beat you.” Splice moved towards the cart and Micah held his breath- hoping Mickie would stay out of sight. The man picked up a small object and turned back towards the boy with the item poised in his hand. “How do you think you’d handle a whip, hmm?” He taunted. “How many hits before you begged for mercy, or for death?”

It cracked against the ground and Micah scrambled backwards with a soft yelp. 

“This can make even the strongest men wail. On his first beating, he took about twenty lashes. Most of them after that were only ten- or fifteen. But, he could barely make it through nine to the backs of his legs this last time.”

Micah tried to push away that visual. He could already see all of the scars.

“What- what other options are there?” Micah asked.

“Pardon?” 

“If you’re going to kill me, and I get a say in it- I’d like to know all my options.” Micah’s eyes darted back and forth between the man- the whip in his hand- and Mickie- who was inching closer towards Andrew. “I’m sure- I’m sure you can be a little more creative.”

Splice stepped back- almost as if he was offended. 

“Oh- I have many ways to make you beg for mercy- to make you wish for death.” He picked up the boy’s face in his hand, forcing Micah high on his knees. “Let’s start with the knife though, shall we? And then we can explore our options from there.”

Micah saw the glint of the pocketknife before it could meet his skin. Before he could protest or say anything about the other options- it still had flecks of dried blood along the base and the handle- and the man twirled it around so effortlessly in his fingers. 

“Well, it’s sure nice to have a clean slate. The challenge is where to start.” Splice taunted. He glanced at Andrew- a look of pain on his face- his eyes clenched shut- arms shaking. “You two sure make a cute couple, don’t you think?” 

“Excuse me?” Micah looked towards Andrew- his face tilted towards the ceiling- sweat dripping off his pale skin. 

“Quite a handsome pair. It’d be a shame if something ruined it, hmm?” 

“What do yo-” His voice lodged in his throat as one hand wrenched his head backwards by his hair. He gasped- eyes wide towards the ceiling. “Please- no, I-” 

His pleas were useless as he felt the tip of the blade against his skin. 

Splice was an expert with the knife. 

He knew where all the primary veins were. All the points that could make you bleed out in an instant- or lead to a slow and painful death.

As the knife slashed through Micah’s face, the man was careful to avoid his eye- instead starting at his temple and cutting down to his chin. 

The boy screamed- blood swarming into his vision and pooling into his mouth. He gasped and crashed to the floor as the man let him fall. 

“There we go-” The man taunted. “Now you’ll have some scars to match.”

Micah curled into himself- desperate to stem the bleeding or at least wipe it from his eyes but his hands were still restrained behind his back. He whimpered in frustration and pain- trying to pull himself back onto his knees.

“Why-” A small voice piped up. It was Justin- his voice breathy and weak through the pain. “-why do you feel the need to hurt everyone?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“What are you compensating for?” He had managed to prop himself up on an elbow- his good arm sustaining his weight as he glared up at the man- a bit of his pale hair falling into his eyes.

Splice stood for a moment, staring across the room to the wall behind the boy. He slowly wiped the blood off of his knife on the edge of his sleeve, and then a slight smirk came over his face.

“Why?” He tilted his head up. “Hmm? You ask why, or what I’m compensating for. Funny thing is, I could ask you all the same thing.

Why do you feel the need to constantly try to prove yourself? Knowing you’ll never be good enough for you father, his company, or his money?” The man stood in front of where Justin was- his body visibly shaking. He tilted his chin up with the tip of the knife. “How does it feel knowing that that’s all you’re good for? That they only keep you around for your money, hmm?”

“That- that’s not true- you don’t-”

“How do you know she hasn’t brainwashed you, hmm? That she isn’t controlling you just to get to your father’s funds?” 

“No- she wouldn’t-”

“Well of course, you wouldn’t know if you were being brainwashed, would you?” The man moved to stand over the girl’s limp body.

“Shut up- you don’t- you don’t know her-” Justin’s breathing was getting more ragged with every word. 

“Well, probably not like you do, but I know enough. I mean look at her, she’s useless. Didn’t even get a chance to put up a fight.” The man chuckled as Justin shook- trying desperately to use what little strength he had to fight back. “It’s pathetic really, she should be the most powerful, and here she is-” he nudged her in the side with the tip of his shoe. She lay still.

“Leave her alone!” The boy screamed. He lunged at the man- catching him by the ankles. The man stumbled a bit before Justin crashed back to the ground.

“Oh will you be quiet!” The man screamed. He kicked Justin hard in the side, sending him reeling. The boy shrieked as his shoulder crashed into the ground- blood leaking steadily from his wound. Splice sighed, and pushed a button on his little remote. 

Justin’s head slammed back into the ground- his eyes rolling backwards as he gasped for air. The shocks wreaked their havoc through his body until he was finally able to scream- letting out a heaving breath. But then they picked up once more. He kept the control on a steady rhythm- leaving Justin writhing in agony for a moment, and then finally letting him breathe for a few seconds before the electricity started up again.

Splice turned to look back at Micah with a chuckle- his eyes peeked out from underneath the blood- sweat, and hair that matted his face. “Honestly, the only person I can think of that’s more pathetic is his sister. After all, she’s got the same potential little Carrot Top over here does, and yet she didn’t even bother to come to his rescue. What, was she scared?”

“Don’t- don’t underestimate her-” Micah chuckled. 

“What, what is she going to do? I mean she practically cowered behind the rest of them the first time we met. Didn’t even try to help.”

“She’s stronger- than- than you think.”

Splice laughed shaking his head. He knelt in front of Micah and held out the remote- selecting the option for Micah’s collar. He hooked a finger underneath, holding the boy up as he winced- the small prongs digging further into the back of his neck.

“She may be strong, but are you?”

Micah screamed. His back arched and his wrists tugged on the chains tying them behind him. He fell backwards in the man’s grasp- held slightly above the ground by his throat.

“You- you bi-”

“Ah- ah- language now.” Splice cut him off with a hand over his  mouth- smearing the blood that had soaked his lips and chin. 

Micah cursed and screamed behind the man’s hand- his body spasming with the shocks. 

“Should I turn it up?” 

Micah shook his head furiously- he curled his legs in towards his chest as Splice dropped him onto his back.

“Good. Now be a good boy, or I’ll set off their collars as well.” Splice stood up and turned towards Andrew as he spoke. “As fun as that would be for little Andy, I don’t think-” 

Splice stopped- glancing at the ground where he had set the gun- and then up at Andrew. The boy’s face was even more pale- he looked nearly unconscious- but the chains he had been hanging from were lowered- his feet dragging against the floor. 

He turned around frantically, back to Micah- to Justin- who were both still writhing in pain- the shocks coursing through their bodies. 

“He’s right you know-” Mickie stated. Splice turned towards the sound. “You shouldn’t underestimate me.”

And then a loud bang exploded throughout the room.

- - -

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silverssarcasm:

lady-of-the-spirit:

One of my favourite tropes is “character who you wouldn’t think is good with kids is actually great with kids”

Some faves:

• Asshole character who is incredibly sweet and patient with kids
• Cocky bastard character who is very mature and collected when kids are around
• Big strong scary character who is careful and gentle with little tiny ones
• Aloof character who is incredibly tuned in on the needs/fears/struggles of children
• Depressed/Grumpy character who lights up around kids and spreads so much joy
• Character who often states they don’t like kids yet in the presence of one will behave exactly right and/or become very protective of them because it’s the right thing to do

Carrot Top 53- Storytime

It’s here! I’m really happy with how this chapter went. Chapter 52 is here.Masterlist here.

CW: threats with a gun, manhandling, non con touching (nonsexual), description of past injuries, restraints, Splice being a creepy, possessive bastard.

- - -

Micah wiped his tears with the edge of his sleeve. He felt like he couldn’t regain his breath after having his own gun shoved in his face. 

But now it was his friend being threatened with the same thing.

He forced himself to calm down, and propped himself up on his elbow as the man stepped towards him. 

Micah had never felt so small. His eyes barely flittered to across the room where Mickie was hidden- sheltered in the shadows. She needed to stay that way. At the other side of the room Ali lay unconscious, and Justin was on the verge. He lay shaking, barely able to keep himself from crumpling in a heap. Micah had never seen him look so angry- and frankly, it was terrifying. But not nearly so much as the man that towered over him. His eyes studied his features, sending a chill up his body.

Splice crossed his arms, gesturing a finger at the boy. 

“Come here.” He smiled. 

Micah shook his head slowly- out of confusion, rather than disobedience.

Splice arched an eyebrow- glancing at where Andrew shook- the gun held in his mouth, his eyes shut tight in concentration. 

Micah let out a breath and pulled himself up, to scared to disobey, and moved slightly closer to the man.

“On your knees.” He ordered- gesturing exactly where he wanted the boy. 

He clenched his fists, before obeying and coming to kneel in front of the man, sitting straight up high on his knees. He turned his face away as Splice grabbed it in his hand, fingers wrapping underneath his chin- teasing at his throat. 

“Don’t touch me-” he whispered.

The man laughed. “I can see why he takes a liking to you. You’ve got that same spitfire and defiance he once had.” He tilted Micah’s chin up, smacking his hand away as he reached to shove the man away. “Of course, that was before I beat it out of him.”

Micah spat into the man’s face- which was then answered with a slap to the side of his cheek. It sent him reeling backwards to the floor- but his throat was grabbed and he was hauled back to his knees before he fell. Splice struck him across the other cheek. A strong backhand that would’ve sent him reeling again if not for the hand around his throat. 

He groaned as his head fell backwards. A cold breath flittered by his ear as the man whispered.

“I bet you’re just dying to know how.” He stepped back, letting the boy fall from high on his knees- hands gripping his throat- rubbing the side of his face where the skin was flushed and red. The man turned towards Andrew. 

“I bet you’re wondering exactly how I got him to the state where he’ll drop to his knees at a single look. He’ll beg, and cry, and plead if I demand it. He won’t even complain.”

Tears leaked from both boy’s face, and Andrew’s face scrunched up ever so slightly more as he listened- the corners of his mouth twitching as the man trailed a hand along his body. 

“I mean, it’s all written right here. He’s a walking storybook isn’t he? Don’t you want to know what I’ve done to him?”

Micah shook his head. 

“I can imagine.” He spat. 

Splice chuckled. He dug his fingers into the bruises at Andrew’s side- a small whimper crawling from the back of his throat. 

“You can try.”

Micah sighed in relief as the man stepped away from his friend. His heart rate picked up once more as the man came towards him- but watched as he walked on past. 

Before he could move or flinch away, his wrists were grabbed and wrenched behind him. His head was shoved forwards and towards the ground as he felt his wrists locked in chains. He was discarded as soon as he was restrained and watched as Splice walked back to Andrew.

“Why don’t we have a little storytime, hmm?” 

“No thanks, I’m a little too old for bedtime stories.” Micah tugged at his wrists with a grunt but they were uselessly chained behind his back. 

Splice chuckled, and Micah flinched backwards at the sound. 

“These aren’t the kind that would put you to sleep. Rather the opposite really.” He smiled and stood behind Andrew. “Well, should we start with day one? Funny, there’s so many whip marks here that it’s hard to tell which punishment they’re from.”

Splice trailed a finger along each of the raised lines across Andrew’s skin. The red marks that interlaced with each other, standing out against his pale skin- ribs and bones clearly visible. 

“Well, let’s start with his hand. Did he ever tell you about that?” Splice chuckled to himself, turning to the boy on the floor. “Did he even tell you about anything?” 

Micah gritted his teeth but the man waited for an answer. 

“He- he told me he had cancer.” 

There was a burst of a laugh before Splice regained his composure, turning back to the prisoner. 

“I stabbed it.” He said casually. Micah flinched back in shock. “Straight through- pinned him to a table! It’s a fabulous way of restrainment, if it wasn’t so risky.” 

Micah shook his head. Remembering the scar throughout Andrew’s hand. How it felt when he held it- or kissed his palm. Thought about the muscles tensing up, how he always pulled his sleeves down past his wrists, or hid his hands in his pockets. 

“That’s- that’s-”

“Very creative, I know.” Splice answered. “He was the one who picked the knife in the first place.” He bounced between his feet as he paced around the boy. “Well, that’s not quite true. He picked the whip first, after I tased him. Then after the whip he tried fighting back, hence the knife, hence his hand. It’s all his fault really.”

“What? It’s not- no!” Micah cried. “None of this is his fault- how could you even make him think that it is?” He tried to fight back the tears that wanted to pour down his face. His throat was closing up with the threat of sobs. 

“Because, I can make him do whatever I want?” Splice stated. Andrew whimpered once more as hands flittered across his skin. His eyes shot open briefly- wet and red with tears- and a stream of drool trailed out of his mouth behind the gun, falling to drip down his chest. “That’s the point of all this, isn’t it? I own him. He belongs to me, and therefore his body isn’t his own. It’s simple.”

“He doesn’t belong to anybody!” Micah cried. He lurched forward- trying not to fall on his face. “You can’t own him!” 

“Oh but I do!” Splice taunted. He traced hands along more of Andrew’s scars. Micah watched every goosebump along his skin- every slight flinch of muscle- every ingrained line and welt and starburst of broken skin and shattered mind. He gripped the boy’s wrists above his head and turned the chains around so Andrew’s back was facing all of his friends. 

Micah gasped as he saw it- flinching backwards.

“See.” Splice stated. “There’s the proof.”

And there, amidst the lines of blood and bruises- standing clear above all the other scars, was two letters raised in his skin, right between his shoulder blades.

“You fucking branded him?!” Micah screamed. He thrashed forwards, falling onto his shoulder with a grunt. His arms shook- his eyes were literally seeing red. “You’re disgusting! I swear I will make you regret every-”

Micah screamed with rage as the man’s hand came to cover his mouth. He gripped his throat in the other as the boy thrashed. 

Splice managed to wrestle the boy up to his feet, holding him tightly with his arms around his chest, one hand still on his throat, the other covering his mouth as he screamed and cursed. 

“Look at him!” He ordered, forcing the boy’s head at the scarred and beaten back. “Look at what I’ve done.” He spat in Micah’s ear as he spoke. “That’s nothing compared to what I have planned. To what I am going to do. To him- and to all of you!” He threw Micah across the room with another backhand to the side of his head. The boy landed in a heap against the wall unable to catch himself. 

“You’re a monster.” He spat. 

“That’s debatable.” The man shrugged. “I simply do what I want.”

“Well then do it!” Micah growled. “Go on. Do whatever you want to him!” He managed to pull himself on his knees, wiping his face off on the shoulder of his sweater as his arms shook behind him. “But you better be prepared to go straight to hell afterward. Because all the pain you put him through- won’t even compare to what I will make you suffer.” 

There was painful silence in the room before Splice turned his back to Micah. 

“How many bullets would you say are in the gun?” He asked.

“What?” Micah huffed- frustration and anger coursing through him.  

Micah finally noticed Justin- who had managed to get to his feet- stumbling towards the man with a fury. 

Whether his whispered plea was for the man to stop- or for Justin to watch out- it was useless as a gunshot rang throughout the room. 

Justin screamed, his arm flying backwards and he collapsed to the ground. 

A small stream of spit fell from the gun to the floor before it clattered down at Andrew’s feet. 

Andrew moaned as his jaw lit up in pain from the strain of holding it still for so long- completely unaware of the events that just transpired around him. 

His moments of free breath were quickly dammed by the muzzle locking over his mouth and clasping behind his face. He hung his head on his chest as Splice turned to the people of the room. 

“So. Is anyone else going to try to keep me from doing what I want?”

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​​

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).

- - -

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