This wasn't exactly what he expected hell too look like.
Chains? Check
Concert walls? –Check
Foul smell? Double fucking Check
Hot as, well, hell? Also Check
Dangling from the ceiling like a dead and ready for barbecue cow? Check
All of those things certainly suggested hell; all of these things looked and felt how he supposed hell would feel like, but there was one problem. That problem was back again with that nasty looking vervain encrusted whip of hers wrapped around her small, dainty little hands.
A slither of fear raced through him along with a big helping of betrayal. Ironically enough, the betrayal hadn't been there four weeks ago when he had first woken up here and she showed up blank faced and cruel. He had honestly assumed something was wrong with her, possessed or something, you know?
He no longer believes she is.
His feet, which are bare and just barely brushing the blood-stained floor, push against the ground in an attempt to put more distance between them. Despite the fear and perfidy he feels, he glares at her angrily, blue eyes dark.
"Damon," she says quietly, voice full of warning. Her green eyes stare him down. Her voice is her own, which is another sign to him that she is herself. It wasn't the first time he has heard her use that tone, it certainly isn't the first time he feels the stirrings of one of her witchy migraines pushing against his brain. Though they are different now, like a blade lightly being trailed over tender flesh, used to get his attention instead of sending him kneeling in pain.
Understanding the warning, Damon allows his eyes to fall and he glares at the floor. No eye contact was one of her insane rules. He feels like growling in fury, but swallows it, keeps it trapped in his throat. Silence reigns between them for a long moment.
"Why?" He knows he shouldn't talk without being spoken too, another of her rules. "Why are you doing this, Bonnie?" He feels weaker than he was already feeling in that moment. He was starving and in pain both physically and mentally. She had never explained anything to him. Never given a reason for her madness despite how much he asked, and he asked a lot. She only came to him with rules and punishments, she never spoke more than necessary and left as soon as possible. He just remembers dying with her and light.
"You know better than to speak without permission, Damon." She drones out, fingers curling and uncurling around the whip.
Damon's eyes shoot up to her face, lingering on her chin, not quite able to make their way up to her eyes. "I deserve to know why you're doing this." He growls out angrily.
His left shoulder pops and he cries out as his shoulder is pulled out of socket, sending horrible pain through his arm and side. With his arms suspended over his head makes the pain so much worse.
"You deserve what I say you do." He wants to laugh so bad and he would have if he could. She sighs as if she was simply exhausted. His teeth sink into his lip and his own blood fills his mouth. "Stop this, Damon, just," she pauses, "behave." She almost sounded like she was begging. "This all is for y-your own good."
Damon pants quietly, saying not a word. He's tired. His mind starts to wonder in the way it does now and again now. He thinks about Elena and Stefan, executing ways to return to them inside his head. It would be hard considering he has no idea where he is, no idea what's going on. All he knows is that Bonnie has gone bat-shit insane. He considers bringing up the mystic falls crew, asking her what they would think about her little 'Misery' act. But he decides it would only make her angry or she would ignore him.
He can feel her staring at him but keeps his eyes trained on the floor. His arm is numb now, not healing. She did something to him that made healing harder. He expects her to start whipping him or breaking some more bones while listing off rules, per usual.
"I want to talk to you about something important," she says. A second later his body hits the floor with a thud and his shoulder pops back into place. He lays on the floor in a state of shock. This was the first time she had ever removed the chains. He frowns at the ceiling but doesn't move. Not that he could make his tired, starved, and abused body do much. "This is really important, Damon, you have to listen. Sit up."
He struggles to do so, finally sitting up woozily. He stares at her boots, they look new and expensive with golden buckles. His pale, bare shoulders slump in exhaustion.
"You're going to meet someone soon," she says. He frowns. "S-She's your owner."
His eyes shoot up to her again, eyes narrowed. "What?" He hisses.
"Damon," she snaps. His body is thrown backwards, slamming hard into the ground. Pain explodes inside and throughout his body and he whimpers, body shaking. When he cracks his eyes open he finds Bonnie towering over him. "You have to stop this, Damon." She sounds angry, unhinged, rather than indifferent as usual. "You know the rules," she pants angrily, "I've taught them to you. Stop being difficult."
Damon found himself laughing bitterly. "When have I ever been not difficult, Bon-Bon?"
He expects the pain, but that doesn't stop it from hurting like hell when she breaks five bones in his body violently.
"Stop," her voice shakes, "stop disobeying me." He simply withers on the floor in pain. She raises a hand and he flinches away. With half-lidded eyes he watches her turn her now blank green eyes to her hand and stare at the extremity. He thinks he might see a flash of horror on her face, but its gone quickly and he wonders what she expects. He hears her swallow.
Instead of inflicting any more pain on him, she snaps her fingers and the iron door leading into his prison opens up and a second later a very short man limps into the room. Damon couldn't see him very well from his position on the ground, but the man hands something to Bonnie before quickly leaving the room again.
The smell hits him like a blow to the gut, the blood. His stomach twists sharply and he doesn't even notice sitting up, his blue eyes trained on the bag of blood. He can't move more than that though, and he knows its Bonnie's doing. In her other hand is the whip. His hands fall down to his sides and his fingers press into the stained concrete below him.
"Please," he croaks. He doesn't even care how weak he sounds, he doesn't care that he's begging.
"I need you to behave," she said quietly. He hesitated but nodded. "When she comes, you don't speak unless spoken too. You call her Mistress. Don't be rude, Damon. Be good for both of our sake. Now, if you have any questions, you may ask them now."
"Will you answer the questions I ask you, Bonnie?" He questions quietly, fighting to keep his voice calm. His gaze remains on the blood bag.
"I will answer what I deem," she pauses, "needs to be answered."
He stops himself form scoffing. "Why are you doing this?"
"Next question or be more specific," she says.
Damon's lips twitch bitterly. "Who is she?"
"Your owner. She is your mistress." Bonnie answers.
"I can't be owned, Bonnie."
"That was not a question, Damon, and you are now." Her hands dropped to her sides and his eyes followed the bag of blood. "The quicker you accept that, the better."
Something about her last few words catches his attention and his eyes finally move from the blood bag and too her chin again. "What did she do to you?"
Bonnie pauses. "Next question," she ignores his question. Her tone gives nothing away.
He wants to shrug but can't, so he asks another question. "Where are we?"
"Kix family mansion south of Star Light city," she answered. Damon frowned. She was serious. "When we 'died' and the other-side vanished, we landed in a place called Epsom. I assume its some sort of alternate reality, a lot of things are different here."
His eyes move up her face but didn't quite reach her eyes. "And you haven't found a way home?" The way her lips pressed together thinly suggested she wasn't going to answer.
"Things are hard here, Damon," she answers cryptically.
He didn't even bother asking what that meant. He would find his own way out of this, even if that meant killing anyone in his way, even if that was Bonnie.
(WISS)
With the promise of a blood bag in mind, Damon rid himself of his torn jeans and slid into a pair of crisp black slacks and pulled a stark white button up over his shoulders. Simply standing and putting on clothes caused him to pant and his world to tilt.
Bonnie stood near the door and watched him, arms folded, whip on a hook on her side. The blood bag had disappeared with the promise of being his if he behaved. She didn't even bother to help or ask him if he needed any after doing a number on his body. Rude. She even got a free peek at his goods. Normally he would have said this out loud, but saw the flaw in that. Teasing her never went over well with her before, he could only imagine now.
"Damon," she began.
"Be good," he interrupted her, "I know."
Pain rushed up his leg and he stumbled forward with a wince. He fights off a whimper and limps further away from the witch. "I'm sorry," he grumbles. She was really wound up tight today, normally he could of gotten away with that with just a headache for his troubles.
She sighs.
He props himself against a wall far away from Bonnie and waits for something to happen, his eyes lingering on the open doorway beside Bonnie for a little while, while he weighed his options on an attempt at escape.
"You have to wear this," Bonnie began, "you won't be able to remove it and it give your mistress control over you, through pain." Before he could say anything or ask anything, Bonnie began to chant and before he knew it something was materializing around his neck. His hand flew to the object, fingers running over cool, rough leather. She had collard him.
Before he can think about it more he hears footsteps.
Show time, he thinks bitterly.
When the tall, attractive blonde woman enters the room, he finds himself wondering what he had been expecting. Bonnie stood up as straight as a rod and her heart started to gallop madly. He watches from the other side of the room as the woman turns to Bonnie and smiles a wide smile that doesn't seem to fit her face in an odd way.
Bonnie eyes flicker down to the floor and stays there.
"Bonnie," the woman greets, then the woman's glowing green eyes are on him. His eyes flicker to Bonnie who is already staring at him hard, he can almost hear her thoughts. His eyes fall down to the floor and he keeps his mouth shut. "He is a remarkable creature," the woman says with a slightly breathy accent. He jumps when the woman suddenly appears in front of him from across the room. His body freezes, partly him and partly Bonnie. Somehow he manages to keep his eyes on the shoulder of the woman's yellow dress. Apparently Bonnie has trained him well. "He's beautiful. What's his word?"
The need to say something smart overwhelms Damon. Almost as if she could sense it, Bonnie speaks up, "yes, but he's not trained completely yet. And I," she interrupted.
"I gave you a month," the woman looks over her shoulder at Bonnie, voice cool but edged. Bonnie's lips press together and her eyes flicker across the ground. "Time is money, Bonnie dear, I have a fight planned for less than a month from now."
"I understand," Bonnie frowned, "but,"
"Do we have a problem here, Bonnie? Can you not do this?" The woman turns fully on Bonnie.
Damon listens as Bonnie swallows and her heart skips a beat. "Everything is fine, Mrs. Kix."
"Good," the odd woman, who didn't exactly smell human to Damon, turned back to him. "What is his word, you never answered, Bonnie."
Bonnie hesitated. "His word is Unfortunate, Mrs. Kix."
"Hmmm," the woman stared at Damon, "from what I've seen from his memories, he certainly is," her amusement is clear. Over come by a random spike of anger and frustration, Damon met the woman's glowing green eyes with his blue ones and glared. "Hmm look at this," she laughed, "doggy still has bite."
"Damon," Bonnie hissed at him. Mrs. Kix held up a thin hand, stopping Bonnie from punishing him.
"How," she smirked darkly, "unfortunate."
His neck instantly snapped back and he found himself of her ground grasping for air, pain like he's never felt before igniting underneath his skin. He found himself crying and begging for the pain to stop. Blood fell from his nose and mouth and ears.
He's not sure how long it takes for him to black out, but it feels like an eternity.
