A/N: A smol one-shot that a friend, badlydrawnnoahwisely, has inspired me to do. Trying a bit with the hurt genre.
Warning: It is torture and that kind of shiz. So don't read if you're faint-hearted.
Enjoy.
Red whimpers as he felt the cold wetness seeping through his thin clothes. The cell he's in is damp and freezing. It was so cold that Red could feel puffs of his breath coming out from his frost-bitten lips.
His shirt was slightly opened up, revealing his thin collarbone. His once fiery red hair became a dirty, muddy brown, tangled and sticking to his face.
His skinny arms are suspended up in the air, wrists pinned by the shackles attached to the cobblestone wall. The circulation was cut off, making him unable to even feel his hands.
The shackles that are around his filthy ankles were tight, enough to leave circlets of angry purple bruises behind once he's released from his prison.
But Red knew that will never happen.
His thin frame is covered with scars from the rough treatment that he endured in his cell. Red can feel as though his body can break anytime.
It was dark. So dark. The blindfold that covered Red's sight left him feel vulnerable and helpless. Red hated the dark.
He shifted his body a bit, moving his skinny legs in the process. The clink of the metal chains rang across the gloomy cell as Red attempted to put himself into a more comfortable position. It didn't.
It wasn't long before Red tensed when he heard footfalls coming his way. The barely audible click led to the eerie creaking of the rusted door, followed by the footsteps that were nearing Red meant that it was time.
Red waited as he listened to the man's heavy breathing. It meant that the man was angry. Extremely angry. Which means that Red will go through much pain as the scapegoat and take the brunt of the man's anger.
"Listen, you little shit," the man's raspy tone made Red cringe. "I'm in a bad mood today, so don't you dare think about resisting against me."
Red didn't have a time to respond when the man began his assault. Red yelped as he felt the man's punches landed on his stomach. He coughed, feeling the injury spread like hot fire across his body.
Another blow was given, this time to his face. Red grimaced but didn't scream. It hurt, especially since the blindfold shut down his sense of vision, unfortunately, heightening his other senses.
He attempted to feebly kick his legs, to shove his offender away, but after not being fed for a long time, his efforts were fruitless.
To his horror, he can feel his shackled ankles being grabbed hold of and pinned down by the additional heavy chains that his capturer had quickly wrapped around the weak bones, rendering him useless.
"I already told you I won't deal with any of your shit, brat. I originally planned to be nice to you, but you made me change my mind."
Red flinched as the man's spit landed on his face.
Red weakly twisted his arms, hoping to slip away from the thick iron bracelet. However, it was to no avail since even the bracelets were tight enough to keep Red's frail wrists from slipping away.
The punches, blows, and kicks kept on coming. Tools that Red knew were lying around the cell was used on him. The whip that seared his marred skin, the hook that tore away what little flesh he had, and the wooden bat that his cracked bones caused Red to scream, writhe, and struggle as he was forced to submit to the man's sick torture.
Red felt his blindfold being soaked by his tears that were quickly appearing from his broken eyes. He let out a soundless, broken wail as more fiery blows rained upon his bruised up body.
Well, at least Red isn't cold anymore.