Chapter 4: Sharp Edges
Here ya go.
TW: blood, mild gore, stabbing, drugs?, starvation
Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow
The only way Charlie was able to keep track of time was through the meals he was given, and the lighting in his room.
For breakfast, it was a slice of toast, two slices of bacon, and a glass of orange juice. For lunch, a ham and cheese sandwich, a glass of water, and a multivitamin. For dinner, a bowl of chicken noodle soup and carrot sticks, or a plate of pot roast and mashed potatoes, and a glass of water.
The lights would turn off a few hours after dinner, and be relit just before breakfast. Only one light near the door remained on, providing just enough light to see. One day, he asked Basil the time.
"I'm not allowed to say," he answered.
So, Charlie made up his own time. Breakfast was at 7 AM, Lunch at Noon, Dinner at 5 PM, and the lights shut off at 10 PM. They would turn on again at 6 AM. He had no idea how accurate this was, but keeping time was one thing that allowed him to keep control.
He continued to find new ways to pass the time. Now healed, he was able to do more rigorous exercise. He'd do a circuit of push ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, planks, and whatever else he thought of that he could do with his arms chained. He'd also sing softly to himself. The silence was deafening at times. He often sang "i'll wait for you" by Saint Slumber - a song on Crow's playlist.
He wondered about the team, about what they were doing. He hoped that Deke was alright - he wasn't there when Mallory showed him the video of the team being released. He must've gotten out before the soldiers got to him. That's what he hoped, at least.
A lot of time was spent reminiscing. There were a lot of good times with the team, especially when they got to hang out as friends while on leave. Once, Adrian brought home a used poker set after venturing into town. They all got drunk and played until morning. Another time, it had snowed, and Ethan insisted on using a riot shield they had stolen on one of their previous missions to go sledding. They walked through the woods to find a good hill, and took turns. Crow just watched. He claimed he was too big for the "sled", and said he was having fun just watching his friends eat shit at the bottom of the hill.
At dinner one night, Basil brought in a thin mat and a mint green blanket. Charlie wasn't outwardly grateful, but he secretly appreciated it. Sleeping on the cold tile floor was doing a number to his back. The mat couldn't have been more than an inch thick, but anything would be better than the tile. The blanket was equally welcomed - the sweatpants he was given hardly did anything to keep him warm.
He wasn't sure if Basil had brought it on his own accord, or if Mallory instructed him to give it to him. He assumed the latter; Basil surely wouldn't do anything without prior approval. The kid looked like he would cry if Charlie even looked at him wrong.
The next day, Basil came in to bring breakfast; only, he didn't have any food with him.
"I'm sorry, they didn't have a tray for you. I still came to let you use the restroom," Basil said.
Charlie thought it was strange. Did they forget to make his meal, or was something else going on? Maybe they ran out of food. He didn't mind too much, because he wasn't really hungry, anyway. Basil left and Charlie thought about how many others might be there.
Time passed, and Charlie’s stomach was growling. Basil would bring lunch soon, he thought. But soon the lights shut off for the night. There wasn’t anything he could do besides go to sleep.
Morning came. Charlie woke up to the sound of the door opening. He was about to say something snarky to Basil, questioning why he wasn’t fed, when he realized it wasn’t him in the room.
Mallory stood in the middle of the room, holding a duffel bag. Charlie stood up and approached him, getting as close as he could until the chains stopped him about 3 feet away.
“So you’re going to starve me now?” He spat.
“Basil has been assigned to other duties,” Mallory said, setting the bag on the floor.
“And that means I don’t get to eat?”
Mallory stepped closer to Charlie, leaving just inches between them.
“Firstly, food is a privilege. You’re lucky I allow you any food at all. Secondly,” he growled, “you do not speak to me that way.”
“I’ll speak however I want,” Charlie hissed.
Mallory shoved him back, causing him to fall to the ground. He was a lot stronger than he looked. Charlie propped himself up on his hands and watched him retrieve something from the bag. He pulled out a some sort of chain contraption with three loops.
“I’m releasing you from the wall, but the moment you do anything stupid, you lose that privilege. And I’ll make the chains even shorter,” Mallory said.
Charlie only nodded. Mallory seemed to accept that as an acceptable response, and motioned for Charlie to stand up. He walked behind him and Charlie could hear keys jingling.
“Do not move until I put these on,” Mallory ordered.
The first cuff of the chain was free. Charlie felt relief as the metal fell from his wrist. A thought arose from the back of his mind to fight when the other cuff was off. He knew it was stupid, and that the chances of him even getting close to escaping were one in a billion.
He did it anyway.
As soon as the other cuff came off, he whipped around. He managed to land a punch to Mallory’s jaw, and a kick to his shin. But a sharp pain in his abdomen stopped him in his tracks. He began to look down before he was thrown onto his back. Mallory stood over him, holding his hand to his cheek.
“I’m not stupid, Charlie.”
The handle of a knife was sticking out of Charlie’s chest, just below his sternum. In shock, he lied there, unmoving. Every breath made the pain worse. He watched as Mallory circled around him. He could taste blood in his mouth.
Mallory then leaned down and gripped the handle of the knife, looking directly into Charlie’s eyes as he pulled it out. Charlie screamed, his hands flying to the wound and putting pressure on it. He rolled over in pain.
“How long should I let you suffer before I give you your little miracle drug?”
Charlie ignored him. He was too focused on not dying. There was no way the knife hadn’t gone through his stomach or liver. Blood poured out onto his hands and the floor. He whimpered as he applied more pressure. It felt like hours had passed before he felt the needle poke his arm.
Soon, the pain flipped into ecstasy. He rolled back onto his back and stared at the ceiling while the serum worked. Mallory stared in amazement as the wound seemed to magically heal, leaving no scar. It was a few more minutes until the high came down. Charlie was left dazed on the floor, covered in blood.
“Go take a bath,” Mallory said as he turned to leave, “and clean this up. If there’s one spot of blood on the floor when I come back...”
He left the room after picking up the duffel bag and Charlie sat up. There was a pain in his abdomen, like a bruise. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as it was. He got to his feet and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet and got in the bathtub, scrubbing away the blood on his body and hands.
After the bath, he used a towel to wipe up the blood from the floor. It took a few rinses of the towel in the sink to get it perfectly clean. He didn’t leave anything behind.
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nsfw prompt / 23. for after battle sex :3c ; @hvithale
Scythe rested on the ground with a dull thud, the records tucked away in his breastpocket. Damned demon, he thought to himself irritably. #136649 didn’t entirely like the idea of being covered in demon muck either, sighing once more in irritation as he realised he’d have to trash the suit alongside the gloves. Not that it changed any, but it was still frustrating.
It was a simple matter to drop the records off at the library after his shift, and the minute he got to his flat, #136649 proceeded to toss the clothes into a garbage bag before he took his time to rinse off. Agitated still, he noted as he rinsed the last of the blood out of his hair. Chartreuse green blinked underneath the towel, catching the sound of a muffled knock at his door. Hm.
He finished up, tossing the towels in the hamper and pulled on a shirt and pajama bottoms, wondering who on earth could be visiting at such a late hour.
“Libra.” He should’ve guessed. A polite smile, though the way she looked, hm.
“Hey there, fox.” She grinned at him, inviting herself in. “Still going by your number?”
“Of course.” #136649 never changed.
A snort, Libra taking the couch for herself, “Heard you had trouble with some demons.”
“Only a little.” What cuts he’d gotten were already cleaned and properly looked at. They’d fade by the morrow. He headed into the small kitchen the flat had been installed with. “Tea?”
“It’s all I have.” He heard her groan in frustration.
“You Brits and your tea.” She muttered, slinking into the kitchen after him. She embraced him from behind, comfortably resting her chin on his shoulder as he went through the motions. #136649 tensed, as her hands slipped under his shirt to lightly drag her nails against his skin. “Oooh, a little tense, are we?” She cooed into his ear, nipping it lightly.
Libra did enjoy teasing him.
“Maybe.” He answered after a moment of trying to control himself. Inhale. Exhale. “Demons aren’t exactly a fun topic to talk about.”
“They’re pests, sølvhale.” She said, smirking as he shifted under her touch. “Not much worth fretting over. Now goblins, on the other hand…”
“Yeeees?” Mischievous, thy name was Libra. But then, he was so fun to toy with, and she could tell he was still agitated. She pulled back a little as he turned to face her, tilting her head back a little to look up at her. Smug little grin on her face as he leaned in; hand cupping her face.
“I’m trying to finish your drink.” A small kiss. “Can’t you wait?”
“No.” She chased after his lips, hand resting on his shoulder as she stole another. It was like a dam had broken, that reservation which had been held back gone. Desperation, thy name was Libra. “Because we’ve both still got some pent up energy.”
“Mmm, true.” #136649 glanced back briefly towards the stove, hand fumbling to turn off the kettle before he’d shifted to get comfortable against the counter. “Probably should move this then, no?”
“Mm, but I like it when you’re pinned like this.” Kiss, kiss, kiss. Greedy. Desperate? Libra’s hands slipped once again under his shirt, as her kisses dropped from his lips to his chin. To his neck. Teeth scraped ‘gainst his skin as he gave a breathy sort of sigh; eyes closing and hand entangling into snowy locks.
She didn’t entirely feel them moving, but it was easy to hook her legs around his hips as he’d picked her up; solely focused on the skin that kept itself hidden from her. Bedroom, she thought in a haze, tugging his shirt off. She noted the patched up parts of his body and expertly avoided them, feeling smug as his own hands pulled away at her own.
Desperate, the both of them.
Clothes shucked off, tossed aside as their pace quickened. A tiny sigh from Libra, melting into a moan as they switched places. His hands on her thighs gave a squeeze as she buried her face into his shoulder. “Make me feel alive again.” she muttered into his neck, teeth digging into his shoulder as they grinded together. Was that a plea? A prayer?
Libra’s nails dug into his shoulders before she moved them, feeling #136649’s lips all over. Lips, chin. Neck, collarbone. His own teeth leaving their bites and bruises all over. His own nails dragging ‘gainst her skin to leave red, angry marks on her body.
Lost in this primal need, they’d continue like this for several hours until they were spent. Heavy panting, Libra couldn’t help but stretch out leisurely on top of the barely-taller-than-her shinigami, peering down at him. “I’ll take that tea now, thanks.” A playful smooch to the corner of his mouth, earning a small huff of laughter.
“Of course you’d say that now.” That kiss returned, and he carefully pushed himself up with a sigh. “It’s late, you know.”
“I know. We don’t have work tomorrow.”
“I take it that means you’re staying for the night?” Libra grinned, rolling off so he could get partially dressed at least, allowing her to stare at his back a little, and her gaze lingered on his left arm, where the bandage remained. She wondered if that was his own mark, but dared not ask.
“Of course I am.” She pushed herself up to press a kiss ‘gainst his shoulder. “Do you still have the change of clothes I left last time?”
He nodded, glancing back at her, “Second drawer on the left. Shower’s available, but you’ll need to pull out a towel.” Libra clicked her tongue.
“Figured that. Thanks.”
“Mhm.” He briefly smiled at her, before getting up and making that tea.
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