A/N: This is really short! I'm not sure if I'm ever going to continue it (probably not), but I'll post it as it is for now. Happy reading!~
He looked at her; hands tied behind her back and mouth sealed with tape.
When her eyes weren't stung with tears, they would rest shut for a little while with the same anguished expression on her face. Her skin was decorated with pretty wounds and comely bruises that pained every inch of her. The image was gruesome—but he somehow found it appealing.
"Don't worry, Miss—I'm just having a bit of fun. I'd never kill you. You know that, don't you?" He breathed into her tiny ear. She had been fast asleep at the time. Sleep was the "day's mortality," as Mello liked to call it. He also liked to think of himself as somewhat of a poetic guy; but really, he was just a sadistic man living in the confines of an abandoned construction house.
His commotion had alerted her. Sayu's eyes opened to the basement that was brimming with the suffocating stench of macabre and cigars. She had awakened to the same nightmare for the fourteenth time in a row, and the vacancy of the atmosphere caused her heart to knock at her rib cage, asking for exit.
"Good morning," he placed a finger on her chin with a demented smile painted on his face. He stuck his fingers under the duct tape that was plastered over her lips and ripped it off mercilessly. Her eyes began to water in torment as it left her skin red and sore.
Sayu groaned out in pain. "Please," she coughed.
"Don't give me that look," he scoffed, "I hate seeing you so sad." Mello played with her brown hair, now wet and greasy after spending two weeks tied to her chair. He didn't let her shower, although she was allowed to go to the bathroom under his inspection.
He slid his hand onto the nape of her neck, which was trickled with sweat. His fingers trailed up and down her skin in a hazy manner, causing Sayu to shiver from the ticklish, nauseating feeling it gave. His nails dug into her already damaged skin as he pressed his lips hard against hers. There was no way for Sayu to push him away; she accepted his touch with sheer disgust.
He moaned into her mouth in pleasure. She was such a delicate little creature. Perhaps too small and frail, it made him feel as if he had some sort of authority over her. She was his for the time being. He enjoyed that fact.
She took her chance and audaciously bit into his bottom lip, so deep that blood had begun to gush out from underneath his skin. Both could taste its bitterness on their tongues.
He yelled out in agony and cupped his bloody mouth into his hands. "You filthy hag!" Mello took out his handgun and nudged her with its muzzle forcefully on her forehead. He had grown furious, his anger raging through him. His breaths trailed heavy and his eyes might as well have fallen out of their sockets. "Apologize!"
Fearing for her life, Sayu muttered, "I'm sorry." Her words were barely audible.
"Louder!" he urged.
"I-I'm sorry!" She cried.
Don't kill her, Mello. Don't kill her. Just don't do it. Put the gun back down. All it needs is a little stitching up and it'll be fine. Don't kill her, alright?
Mello's temper eased up a bit and he'd hid his gun away. He heard a shaky quiver leave Sayu's lips.
"Good," he said with a tone that Sayu didn't like at all, although she was relieved that the gun was no longer aimed at her. "Don't do anything like that again. Or else I will kill you."
Sayu nodded frantically. She'd do whatever he told her to, as long as it meant her not being shot in the head. At this point in time, she had already given up on going home. However, she still opposed the thought of dying. Especially in this place, with that man.
"I'm taking a break from you. I'm off to hang with the other guys," he didn't know why he was explaining himself to her, but he just found that he was, and Sayu wasn't sure what was more frightening; being alone with him, or being alone.
He began making his way up the stairs. "You hear me?"
She let out a groan of a reply.
Mello wondered why he hadn't killed her yet. He had no regard for human life, not even his. He certainly didn't care about her, either. Perhaps, he presumed, he just wasn't done with her yet, and the thought of her awaiting him in constraint forced a menacing smile upon his lips.