Inspiration: a fanfic i read in where Harry Potter and his buddies actually LOSE, and Voldemort wins instead.
White walls surround us
No light will touch your face again
Rain taps the window
As we sleep among the dead
"Please, no more! Stop it!" Victoria Enright pleads desperately, blood stained tears trailing down her sullied face, with signs of two years of abuse written all over it.
The guard looks up at her, smirking mirthlessly at her before putting his upraised hand down.
"Should it not be already imprinted in that hollow brains of your's, I'll be seeing you tomorrow once more." He replies condescendingly with a smile taking that of a form of a scythe. Then, he turns his back to them and begins to walk with a sauntered stupor to the large, yet, almost camouflaged door, his languid strides saying it all; he did not feel any guilt nor remorse for which he had just done to the two humans. No, not humans, subjects.
As the door that is the equivalent to a large boulder slides open with leisure, the small hope of escape Tori had once found thumping in her heart was no there no more. Even though it slides open deliberately, tauntingly, Tori had learned there was no escape from this hellhole.
The man disappeared and as the boulder slid close, Tori crawled closer to the fallen body of Simon Bae on the dirty floor. Her knees scraped along the concrete, and the rocks bite inside her palms, but Tori was now immune to that sort of pain. As she crawled pathetically, she left a trail of blood on the floor, the red crimson mingling with the black and filthiness of the floor.
"Simon." She shook his shoulder softly, already knowing he was badly injured as it was. Facing his back, she could see the horrid scars that had been burden upon him. As well as some injuries that have been reopened, the blood socking through his raggy shirt.
Simon moans, the noise caught in his throat as he finds pain in just moaning.
Tori wipes her grim hands on her foul and ripped jeans, but its in vain. Its not as if she has forgotten there is no such thing as clean or sanitary in this quarantined cell. No, its more of just pure impulse, a will to stick to anything the old Victoria Enright could have done three years ago, when she still had privileges. Because here, in these dungeons, Tori cannot see herself. That strong-willed, free, brave and determined Tori has been lost and now buried deep within her, the pleading, crawling, desperate
Tori replacing her entire image.
She rips some cloth off of Simon, and apologizes when Simon groans from the pain. She checks his bones, silently sending a prayer to whoever is listening in that thing they call heaven, giving thanks that today he won't have to mend his bones. Images of his body twitching on the ground like a broken bird as she hears his bones cracking into place surface before she shakes them away. Then, softly, she mutters the only spell she knows that can help with healing.
Healing isn't really a witch's specialty. They can conjure a few spells, but they aren't experts. Especially not Tori. But that's all she has. Just this one or two spells that might ease the pain. And even if it was just by two percent, Tori stuck with it. It was a way of trying to convince herself she isn't all so useless, that while Simon is willing to take more of the beating for Tori's sake, she is capable of mending to his wounds that pop up so quickly.
But it doesn't do much.
Still, Tori casts those two spells every other day, for every other day, the same guard enters this disgusting place in which the rotting smell can burn your nostrils, but Tori and Simon have both gotten accustomed to. And every time he comes, it's the same routine; he forces the two siblings to fight each other, to throw spell after spell, not stopping until the other one is unconscious. The Edison group says it a test, to see if the injections they are receiving are working. They don't even tell them what the injections are for. And after the first six months, with the same dreadful events, they have already learned what this is all about.
There are no tests.
The message is clear; this is their punishment for ever thinking they could out-smart the Edison Group, for running away and trying to put a stop to their experiments.
And so, once Simon objects to hitting Tori with any more spells, the guard turns to him and begins to brutally beat him with lethal spells.
Simon shudders underneath her cold hands, and once the spell is over, Tori crawls to the other side of the small cell to drag the petite bowl of water and towels that they give them. This is what they do. They give them enough food not to die anytime, they allow Tori to perform those spells on Simon so he can regain the little energy it gives him, and they give them wet cloths to wash themselves. And for what? So they don't perish and die. Why? Because then. What else will they have to do everyday? It'll make their lives more boring.
They save us, only to continue entertaining them.
With grinding teeth, Tori crawls back to Simon.
Days go on forever
But I have not left your side
We can chase the dark together
If you go then so will I
She places a hand on his cheek and casts the same spell. Simon winces under her touch, because there is no skin there anymore, just the soft part under, his blood dripping and cheeks swollen. Once that's done, Tori tries to swipe off the grave that gouged his other cheek. It was futile of course, but she did it anyway. Of course, she makes sure not to squander the water too much.
Lifting his chin fruity, she wipes off his blood-stained face. His face scrutinizes from the pain, eyes shut tightly from the anguish of the touch.
Simon feels numb everywhere. He cannot feel anything but pain as the man beating him continues to torment his mind. Its not like after almost two years, or maybe more, they have not adapted to the pain and the tearing agony. It is not something that is possible.
He barely manages to open his eyes to see Tori's face above him, as she lays the towel over him. He sees the scars on her shriveled face, the filth and mud covering any features of the beautiful teenager she once was. She is dirty everywhere, her lips parted and bleeding, skin missing, cheekbones ripped from the skin. Her face is now much skinner due to the lack of food. Her clothing is ragged and it hangs sluggishly around her, covering any beautiful curves she once had.
Everything, this never ceases to amaze Simon by how much she has changed. And it breaks him to pieces.
There is nothing left of you
I can see it in your eyes
Sing the anthem of the angels
And say the last goodbye
He sees her grab the needle and thread from her pockets, and he knows what she's going to do.
He grabs her wrist, and though his movements are lethargic, she still jumps from the pure surprise.
"Tori." Simon says for the second time, because the first time no sound came out from his parched lips. She hadn't even noticed he was conscious. Tori leans her ears closer to his lips.
"What is it?"
"No. No more." He says laboriously, his eyes slowly shutting close.
"I'm so sorry Simon. I know it hurts, but I have to." She knots the thread in the needle and position's Simon's face towards her. There's a huge gushing cut going down his left side, and it needs to be closed before it gets worst. They had beaten him much more viciously today.
But he grabs her wrist again and with much labor, shakes his head. "N-No. no more…I-I can't ta-take it." Tori is about to console him, when she catches his eyes.
He's not talking about the stitching she's about to perform.
Cold light above us
Hope fills the heart
And fades away
Skin white as winter
As the sky returns to grey
But she chooses to feign ignorance, and replies, "You have to. Or else the wound will get much worst." She inserts the needle into the side of his face and begins. But Simon grabs her wrist and begins to peel it off. She tries to stop him. "Simon don't." But then he grabs her face and slowly tries to lay her down in front of him. They lay on their sides for a while, as Simon gathers what little energy he has left to talk. But Tori doesn't need to hear it. She can see it in his eyes. His dark, dead eyes.
Days go on forever
But I have not left your side
We can chase the dark together
If you go then so will I
How long have they truly been in this cell? How long has it been since they'd last seen the sun? How long as it been since they heard anyone's voice other than their own and the guards? How long ago was it when Tori honestly thought they had a chance against the Edison Group?
Tori looks at Simon's pale ashy face staring at her, no will power nor any sign of hope. No, they both lost that a long time ago. It had gone away, slipped from their fingers, never to be felt again. But they kept fighting to wake up the next day. It was their only way of defiance. They weren't sure what they lived for each fighting day, but fight they did. Were Chloe and Derek still alive? They had absolutely no idea. And honestly, a year ago, they totally forgot about them. No, more like they pronounce them dead without any proof. Because all that matter were each other. They were each other's life. Tori's life consisted of her and Simon and vice versa. She loved him, and the day he died, she would take her own life.
There is nothing left of you
I can see it in your eyes
Sing the anthem of the angels
And say the last goodbye
And as Simon stared back at her with empty, dull eyes, she could tell that time was nearing.
"Tori...I can't." He barely managed through panting.
A tear escaped her eye as she caressed his face. Her heart thumped and her throat dried up.
"Simon..don't leave me all alone. One more day baby. Just one more." Her lips trembled as he shook his head.
I keep holding onto you
But I can't bring you back to life
Simon sees his broken Tori crying before him and it breaks him. He should be accustomed to seeing her like that. But no amount of torture will ever make that possible. Even though the image of the defiant, strong woman she once was is as foggy as a distant memory, he knew this wasn't the way it was meant to be. They were supposed to have beaten the Edison Group. Tori was suppose to grow up to be a strict CEO at some important IT company. No one would have ever been able to see her broken and beaten to the ground, to make her plead and beg.
But that's why it has to stop. Simon knew they had no reason to live, to keep fighting each day. Chloe and Derek were probably dead, he accepted that. He hasn't seen the outside world, but from the distant noises he can sometimes hear, or from the soft murmurs of rumors, the supernatural world is at war.
"Come with me. It's okay. It's going to be okay." Simon whispers.
Sing the anthem of the angels
Tori shuts her eyes as her face drenches in tears. She doesn't fight. She feels Simon's arms around her and she knows his eyes are closed.
Tonight, they are going to sleep. Tonight, they're not going to fight. Tonight, she's not going to perform the spells that ensure they'll wake up the next day. Because tonight, will be the night they will finally get to truly sleep without worrying about tomorrow
The Edison group won. They stopped their rebellion. They tortured them, they tore them from each other, they stole their hope and they broke them. This is it.
"I love you."
Then say the last goodbye
Because there will be no tomorrow for these two. And they're okay with that.
I'm thinking about making another chapter that follows what was happening to Chloe and Derek. Just their last few minutes alive, is all. Only if I see this gets popular. I ABSOLUTELY am not going to do a a whole story explaining how they got to the safehouse, how they got caught, what i meant by 'supernatural war" and stuff thought.