This is a drabble as well! Woo! I don't plan to go anywhere with this. This was an image in my head when listening to Love Addict. It's a very good song; to me, anyway. I hope you enjoy.
-Monsieur
Disclaimer: I do not own 2P!America in any way. I only own the OC and the plot.
Love Addict
In came the little boy, face covered in dread.
Eyes wide, and stared at what was ahead, and he said:
"What big ears you have Grandma!
What big eyes you have grandma!
Grandma, Grandma!
Can you hear me? Do you hear me?
The little boy shouts, the little boy pleas
He turns around, tears streaming down his face.
Shaking, trembling, he says with haste, "Little red riding hood help me!
Little red riding hood save me!
Can you hear me? Do you hear me?
But the only response he receives,
Is his own grief,
His future demise,
And glowing, scarlet, red eyes.
The cold, wet air was silent. Thick and unmoving as a young man sat in the corner, barely clothed. His long, burgundy hair lay across his shoulders, blocking out his face. Little particles of dust danced around him, mocking and touching his skin, sending little invisible bugs to leave a new trail. The only light he had was a furnace on the other side of the basement, the glowing embers not enough to illuminate the entire room.
He was starving, tired, weak...and he knew what was coming. He expected it. He had grown accustomed to this mistreatment from years of never leaving the basement. Never seeing light. Not since his mother and brother died. Leaving him alone.
Alone.
He tried to swallow but his throat was too dry, resulting in him coughing and pulling down on the chains that kept his arms at an odd angle, unable to put them down. The chains rattled as he tried to move, become more comfortable. He gasped for air, wanting the coughing to cease but he was so thirsty.
When was the last time he had water?
He was unsure.
He couldn't figure out time in the basement with no clock nor light.
He was alone.
And he waited.
Counting the seconds until he could hear the slam of the door. Till the footsteps creaked above and sent a plethora of dust and dirt down into the basement, but he never cared. And then when the basement door would slam open and he would no longer be so alone.
No matter what happened when that person was down there...
It was better than being alone.
Better.
So...much better.
He almost smiled when he heard the front door of the house above slam. It would only be a matter of time...
1 … 2 … 3 … footsteps
His fingers twitched in anticipation but he couldn't bring it in himself to look up, too weak to move.
It hurt.
Everything hurt.
The air was so cold and he wished he had a shirt.
Maybe he should be grateful he at least was given pants.
Maybe...
4 … 5 … 6 …
A scrape of a shoe and he tilted his head enough to the side to peek up and see the dirt falling from his ceiling. He almost couldn't bring it in himself to wait. His stomach tied into knots and one could say little bugs were fluttering in his stomach.
Out of nerves?
He couldn't say.
His neck itched but he couldn't do anything about that.
The collar had dug further into his skin and he remembered vaguely passing out earlier when a warm liquid ran down his back. Maybe he should be scared.
Nervous.
Shy.
Skiddish.
Submissive.
Maybe it just wasn't in his nature because no matter what, he was not afraid. He was not...afraid. The person did not scare him. He was not thrown into submission and he would not back away.
After all this time, pride still consumed him and he refused to back down, even if sometimes he was ready to beg for the silent company.
Because he wouldn't be alone.
Anything but alone.
He didn't like the silence, the darkness. How it would come alive and bite on his fingers, demons crawling through his wounds and eating away his soul, heart and mind. They would leak from the floor boards and laugh and smile and poke and prod. They tore at his skin and clothes, making him shiver and become cold when he finally found a bit of warmth. And he had realized how much he hated the cold.
The corners of his lips twitched when the basement door was flung open and those same, oh so familiar footsteps thundered down the stairs.
When the person reached the bottom, he turned away from the chained man and went to a radio that sat on a single stool, turned it on and smiled when Love Addict shouted through the speakers. He reached up and pulled down a thin chain and a yellow light flickered on from a single light bulb swinging back and forth.
"How're you today, mutt?" The man finally faced the one who was chained and smirked, sauntering over towards his little toy, "Ready to have a little fun?"
The 'mutt' did not reply, staring at the floor. He felt relieved that he was not so alone but he still was not looking forward to the 'fun' his 'master' had implied. It was always the same. Always. But he was not afraid.
"As silent as ever, fuckin' piece of shit," he threaded his fingers through the burgundy hair and gripping tightly, making the chained man grind his teeth as he was forced onto his knees and to look up at the taller, "Look at your master when he speaks to you."
Deciding to be a little rebellious, the chained man glared and gathered up saliva before spitting it onto the 'Masters' face. His grip tightened in the dark red hair as his free hand lifted and wiped the spit off of his cheek and lips.
The look he gave would have been able to kill. Daggers shot through the air and the 'mutt' felt a stab of fear before it was gone.
Without saying another word, he grinned and brought up his knee sharply, nailing the chained man in the chest. The 'mutt' gasped and coughed, trying to catch his breath but crying out roughly when he was pulled back up. He tried to grab a hold of the other man's hands to loosen the grip on his hair but before he could, the taller punched him in the face, letting go of his hair and watching him fall to the ground, the chains rattling and keeping him almost suspended.
"After all these years, I thought you would've learned," he started, walking over to where the other collapsed. He squatted and gave a toothy grin as he wrapped his large hand around the thinned pale arm and pulled the collared 'mutt' up, "Do we need another little history lesson or do we got it?"
The other did not reply.
'Master' growled, angry that his little toy was ignoring him. He felt nothing but disgust when he looked at the cherry red hair and those ruby eyes. Everything about the chained man was disgusting. Not worthy of living. How dare he abandon his own mother and brother?
He bent enough to send his fist into the chained man's stomach, over and over until he once again had him coughing up blood like every other time he was down there.
When he was tossed again to hit the wall and slumping, 'Master' chuckled darkly and began to walk away. He wasn't finished but he must've been hungry. He must've wanted something because he walked away.
He turned his back.
And as his back was turned, his little toy glared at the chains that kept him bound and pulled on them experimentally. When the footsteps began to retreat up the stairs, he pulled harder and when the door was shut...
The chains were pulled out of the wall.
"Yeah, you can come over later," Lliam smiled into the phone as he cut up some potatoes, getting ready to fry them up. His stomach growled when he could smell the food and his mouth watered.
"Okay, in 10?"
The voice sent butterflies to his stomach and heat up to his cheeks as he replied, "Yeah, see you then, babe."
When he heard the click, he put down the phone and continued chopping.
Bare feet trailed up the steps, covering the places heavy boots had been just previously. The man stumbled, not having walked in so long that his legs rejected the sudden weight but he pushed through. Even when they felt like jelly and his sides were killing him and he felt about to pass out at any moment. He didn't. He braced himself on the wall and continued forward, crimson eyes glaring in the darkness and following the sound of the voice.
Lliam set the knife down and picked up the cutting board with the potatoes on it and slipped them into the oiled saute pan. He hummed in tune with the crackle and sizzle, enjoying the sound. He began thinking of movies he could watch with his girlfriend. Then figured he would let her choose.
He turned away and walked to he fridge to pull out the thawing hamburger.
The man found the kitchen and squinted his eyes at the bright light and tried to keep his stomach under control when he smelled delicious food. Immediately, his eyes spotted the knife.
Lliam unwrapped the hamburger and set it in another saute pain and began to mush it up.
Behind him, the slight sound of a knife scraping against the counter went unheard when the so called 'mutt' picked it up and stepped towards him, knife held awkwardly but sturdy.
The kitchen was full of the wonderful smell and he smiled to himself. Knowing how much his girlfriend loved Slomgolion.
He continued flipping and moving around the hamburger as a dark shadow fell over him, too oblivious to turn around and face the demon filled fire that threatened to eat Lliam up and destroy everything he was.
A coward.
A monster.
Scum.
The glint of the knife was seen as it was lifted into the air and about ready to strike when the doorbell rang and Lliam turned around.