The Way You Shake and Shiver
Prompt: No. 7 The Way You Shake and Shiver [Shaking hands | Seizures | Silent panic attack]
CW: Seizure, epilepsy, cutting, restraints, stress position, defiant whumpee
“Huh.”
Whumper stands over Whumpee, knife loose in hand, blood still dripping from the blade. Whumpee lays on their side, hands still tied behind them and to the floor, knees cocked under them at an awkward angle. Their limbs jerk rhythmically, curling against the restraints, muscles in their face flexing and tightening skin into an awful grimace before drooping and starting again.
Long strings of drool drop from their mouth and puddle on the floor to mix with Whumpee’s blood, slicking their hair which is spread in a halo under their head. With each folding of their hips, Whumpee’s shoulder drags forward on the floor before falling back, leaving more smeared blood beneath them, grating open wounds into concrete. Whumper watches as Whumpee’s fingers and toes lock up and quickly unfurl, and glances at his watch.
They had been a good ways into a fun little session with his knives, Whumpee glaring up at them and panting after a wonderful, unwilling scream, when they blinked confusedly and the fire in their eyes suddenly blew out. An odd moment ensued where Whumpee starred out at nothing and then their head was rolling to their shoulder before they crashed down onto their side.
The spasms started shortly after, Whumpee’s body contracting and relaxing fitfully. Their breathing became grated, ragged breaths—the occasional choking gurgle as saliva pooled in their open mouth before spilling out—that rapidly tore from their throat. Whumpee’s eyes were wide, somehow equally terrified and completely blank as they stared at the corner of the room, eyelids intermittently forced closed with facial convulsions.
“Huh,” Whumper repeats, entirely intrigued. They look at their watch again: almost three minutes.
The seizure begins to dissipate, finally having run its course, and Whumper can see the exact moment Whumpee comes back from it. The jerking movements stop, Whumpee’s muscles practically melting into the floor, their breathing shifting from the horrid gasps to deep, heavy, real breaths, as if they’ve just finished running a long distance race. Their eyes roll to look around the room before finally landing on Whumper.
They stay like that for a long time, Whumpee dragging in deep breaths through their nose while Whumper watches curiously, and after nearly ten minutes, Whumpee pulls their head up right and takes one last, deep, shuddering breath before it evens out. Whumper watches as Whumpee tries to pull their hands in front of them, stopped short by the rope, and they frown slightly before pushing up with their shoulder to get back onto their knees.
They look at Whumper, drool shining at the corner of their mouth and down their cheek, confused for a moment, brows furrowing a bit. Then their gaze finds the knife in his hand, and remembrance seems to slowly settle in behind their eyes.
“So….” Whumper raises his hands in a what the fuck gesture, “...you didn’t tell me you have epilepsy.”
Whumpee scrunches their eyes closed and winces, wiping their cheek on their taut, pulled back shoulder. “You…d-didn’t ask before…fucking abducting me…asshole,” they say tiredly.
“So, it’s been…” Whumper pauses to think for a moment. “Like, four days since you’ve taken your meds?”
Whumpee only stares in reply.
“Well, this will certainly make things more interesting.” Whumper re-grips the knife, shrugging lazily. “Shall we get back to it, then?”
Whumpee groans then, and ducks their head to the floor. “Nh—no, please. I…I’m so tired.”
“Awe, where’s that fighting spirit from earlier?” Whumper kneels in front of Whumpee, forcing their head up by pressing the tip of the knife to the soft flesh under their chin. “I want to see how much you can take.”
For the first time, Whumper sees Whumpee’s eyes begin to water. They wince as blood dribbles over the edge of the blade.
“Let’s see how many seizures we can squeeze out of yah. Doesn’t that sound like so much fun?”
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