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.

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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?”

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