Chapter 3! God, I'm writing this really fast. It'll probably slow down, though, once I lose significant interest.


Blue woke up hungry. He had not eaten anything in maybe twenty-four hours, maybe more. He could not really move, as he was still tied up. His arms and hands tingled because he still had scratchy rope tied tightly around his limbs, and it had been cutting off blood flow for hours. He was sore, as well, from having slept on the hard, cemented basement floor. He was cold, as well.

The place smelled musty, and dust and dirt was everywhere. It was probably filled with mold. He coughed from the thick air going in and out of his lungs.

He had no idea what time it was, as the basement was windowless and dark. There was one nightlight plugged into a corner, illuminating the room slightly so that he could make out certain shapes on shelves. Teddy bears, creepy shit. He squirmed around and looked for something sharp he could use to cut the ropes, but he couldn't see well and ultimately found nothing. For a while he tried to rub the ropes against the corner of a shelf, but this proved useless.

How long had he been here? How long had he been out? It occurred to him that Rain could have put something into the cake to drug him, but then he wondered if there even would have been a purpose for that. He squirmed his way to the stairs and attempted to climb them to get to the door, and after a while he managed with great effort to get to the top of the staircase and jiggle the door handle with his teeth, but the door was locked.

He sat, rested his head against the door for a bit, then slowly scooted back down the stairs, coming to rest in the middle of the floor again. He rested like this for a little while, but realized he felt exposed, so he scooted to a wall, sat up, and rested his head against the wall.

How much longer was this going to last?

An indeterminable amount of time went by, and he heard the door open.

"Bluueeee!" Rain sang.

"Ugh, what?"

"Time for another day!"

"Yeah, no shit," he said. He was exhausted.

"I have a surprise for you!"

"Fuck."

"You like video games, right, Blue?"

"Fuck you, I already hate what you're trying to make me do today."

Rain was silent for a minute. "Don't talk to me that way."

Blue didn't respond.

"Blue. Respond."

Blue remained quiet, his eyes shut, trying to make this not be reality.

He didn't hear her descend the stairs, but was vaguely aware of her presence getting closer. In a few moments, her voice was by the side of his face.

"Blue. Respond."

He didn't.

She took hold of his cheek and squeezed.

"Ow. Owww!"

She didn't let go. He pulled away, forcing her fingers to release his face, but then she took hold of his head and bit his cheek, pressing her teeth into his skin. He screamed as she bit down harder and harder, and tears came to his eyes. He tried to lean away, but he couldn't get very far from her body since he was tied up and rather weak. She released his cheek, but then bit down again on the corner of his lip, with her two front teeth digging into the inside of his mouth and her bottom teeth scraping the outside. He screamed louder, scared to pull away because he didn't want to tear his own mouth. She bit and began to chew, and he felt blood gush from his inner cheek and fill his mouth with a warm, salty taste. Finally he gave up on trying to pull away and just lay still, hoping she would stop and let his mouth free. She chewed on his wound for another minute, and he could feel her sucking on his mouth, drinking up the blood. Finally she let go and stopped biting, pulling her face away from his.

Tears were streaming down his face from the pain. Blood began to escape his lips and drip down his chin.

"Why-" he began, but talking hurt and he winced.

She chuckled. "That was for being a smart ass," she said. "No more of that, okay?"

He didn't want to move his mouth, so he just nodded his head, afraid to look at her.

She turned on a light in a corner of the basement, revealing the full shape of a TV screen, and then she came back and dragged him over to the TV. She set him up on wooden chair and procured more ropes, which she used to secure his back, his neck, and his legs to the chair. He wondered why she was doing this until she untied only his hands.

He looked at her questioningly, but she didn't look back because she was digging around behind the TV. She pulled out and dusted off a console, then reached behind the TV again and picked up what looked like a case for a video game. She put it in his hands.

It was a bootleg copy of Flame War: Attack of the Trolls.

"Remember this?" she said. "You fought through a store full of people to get this game so you could play it with Red, remember?"

He nodded.

"Play it for me," she said.

What was that supposed to mean? She wanted to watch him play the game? She took the case from him and opened it, then placed the disc into the console and turned it on.

The familiar game showed up on the screen. He hadn't played it in a while. She handed him a controller and said, "Play it."

Not knowing what else to do at this point, he played the game. It was a strange sensation, one part of his brain engaging in something so familiar and another part thinking about the pain in his face and the ropes around his body. His hands were only released up to just around the wrists, so he couldn't put them up to his face to wipe the blood off. This was distracting. He made a mistake and his character got hit.

Something hit the back of his head, hard. He cried out. Despite the state of his mouth, he said, "What the fuck?!"

He twisted his head around as well as he could to see Rain standing behind him with a ping pong paddle. "Restart the game," she said.

He looked at the screen, then back at her, then restarted the game. The opening music began again and he played once more. He got a little further into the level, but then took some damage from an enemy.

She whacked the back of his head once more, then turned the console off, then on again.

"Come on," she said, "you're good at this. You can do it perfectly. Don't get hit."

The opening music. He played a little way into the level, but his hands were shaking, so he got hit.

Thwack. Console off.

The opening music. He managed to get to the second level, but at the beginning of level two, he got attacked and took damage.

She dug the handle of the ping pong paddle into his wounded cheek.

"Aaghh!" He tried to turn his head away but she grasped it again and dug harder.

"Play it again," she said.

Console off. Console on. Opening music.

He tried to play level one but took damage right away.

This time his view of the screen was obstructed partially by her body. She took the paddle, opened his mouth with one thumb, and shoved the handle of the paddle into his mouth, causing him to gag. She found the cheek wound on the inside and dug it in, twisting it around and around. The handle had some splinters and a slightly rough surface. He felt more blood exit his skin and go down his throat. He tried to cry out "stop" but instead just gagged more at the touch of the paddle to the back of his tongue. She let the paddle handle go into the back of his throat, and he dry-heaved, his stomach empty save for some bile. She pulled the handle out of his mouth and said, "Play it again."

"No," he murmured. "No, please, no..."

She turned the console off and back on.

Opening music. He beat level one. He died right away at level two.

She punched him hard in the dick. His body tried to double over, but his movements were restricted by the ropes. She punched his dick again, then jammed the paddle handle firmly into his crotch. He felt white-hot pain shoot through his groin and pelvis, and before it could subside she punched him again, repeatedly. She hit his face. She hit the pit of his stomach. He gasped for air.

"Play it again."

He tried to play it once more, and died shortly into level one, and so she spat on his face and whacked him across the cheek with the paddle again. She turned the console off and then on.

Opening music. They did this for another hour and a half. He kept waiting for her to get bored and move on, but she wouldn't. She was relentless. By the end of the session, he was bruised and cut and beaten like he had never been in his life thus far. Finally she untied him from the chair and threw his miserable body against the cold, hard floor once again, climbed the stairs, and closed and locked the cellar door.

Once he was alone, he began to cry. He cried in a way he had never cried before, of exhaustion and pain and fear and hunger, of pure terror for his life and for the life of his best friend. He still didn't know for sure if Red had really been killed, but at this point he didn't put it past her, and his tears needed no immediate confirmation in order to fall. He sobbed for what seemed like forever, light-headed with fear, until his body gave out and he passed out from shock.