2D's P.O.V.
He woke to the feeling of something nudging his very sore left side. He barely opened his eyes and glanced upwards to see Vincent standing over him, the toe of his black leather dress shoe was pressing hard into his ribs.
"You look a bit dreadful, that tends to happen with the doctor. The good news is that you were a big hit and it looks as if your schedule will be filled for a month straight."
2D groaned; God everything hurt so badly, his head felt like it could split into two, his ass burned, his chest hurt, his sides, legs, and back. Each intake of breath felt like little daggers stabbing into his lungs, his throat was sore and raw from the endless hours of screaming and crying. A sad little thought occurred to him that if he lost his voice Murdoc would need and want nothing else to do with him, only needed him around for his voice. He wondered if they noticed he was missing, surely they did. His friends were used to him wandering off though, dumb little habit he had of just walking aimlessly through town into other towns until he was lost and then needing to call one of his mates to come and pick him up. They probably thought this was like that, that at any moment he'd call or come in the front door. Murdoc would be mad, he seemed to be mad a lot….Well not really, not since they had started dating; not mad until 2D slipped and told him he was in love with him.
"Oh come on little blue bird I'll have Norma wash you up." He said as he hoisted the younger man to his feet.
2D stumbled nearly falling down, but Vincent had a good hold on him making sure that wouldn't happen. He lead the blue haired man from the room, down the hall, and into the what was apparently the wash room. Norma stood there waiting impatiently, she sneered at the beaten up singer. He wondered if she hated all of the men and girls this way or she just had a special place for him.
Vincent stayed in the room while Norma sprayed 2D down. He gasped at the feeling of the ice cold water stabbing against his skin, gasping turned into screaming, but his throat was so raw that screaming turned to frantic coughing. He sat with his legs pulled up against himself his back to the wall taking it, taking this just like he was taking everything else because for some reason he was still too scared to die.
She turned the water off, roughly pulled him to his feet, dried him, put the black robe on him, and shoved him in Vincent's direction.
"You're so gentle my sweet Norma." He said teasing the woman.
She shook her head then left the room.
"Tonight you have an appointment with a new client from Spain. He speaks very little English, but he pays well and finds you rather intriguing. Until then I'd like you to entertain me for an hour or two."
He felt sick, but he felt if he tried to vomit nothing would come up.
The blond haired man led him to his bedroom. He placed his hands on 2D's waist pulling the younger man close to him, their bodies pressed firmly together. He couldn't look him in the eye, he felt filthy and disgusting with himself and all of this. He felt Vincent's lips against the side of his neck, the tip of his tongue caressing his bruised skin.
"Do you like it rough little song bird?"
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm a businessman; don't you ever wonder where all those college girls on vacation disappear to? The ones in America, England, Scotland, and Mexico; they come to places like these. I'm one of many in this business, one of the top might I add, this is the oldest practice in the world."
He sounded so happy, elated to explain this; it was as if he were explaining the cure to some deadly disease. He ran his left hand under the robe and along the blue haired man's side, he pressed hard against a large bruise causing 2D to cry out in pain. At this Vincent bit his neck; he flicked his tongue over the wound then moved on tracing his lips along the singer's collar bones and jawline.
"The business of bodies; some do it for ransom rewards, but I do it for art and for show. It doesn't matter who you are, your age, or what you do; in the end your parents, your friends, coworkers, and your lover will forget all about you."
Vincent trailed his tongue along the singer's jawline. He pulled back and smiled down at him.
"So beautiful, a bit empty headed I might add. None of that matters though, you're healthy, and we'll keep you that way until we have no more use for you. Right now though I have many uses for you my little blue bird."
He kissed the black eyed man, hard. He wanted to pull away, but fear and Vincent's hand firmly placed on the back of his neck kept him from making a move. The older man broke away; he shoved 2D down onto the middle of the large bed. He went to the chest of drawers opening the top one and pulling out a set of handcuffs. He fastened the younger man's wrists to the bars of the headboard. He straddled 2D's waist his hands roaming over the unwilling man's damaged skin, he dipped down tracing his tongue over bruises and welts. A moment later he got up and went back over to the drawers grabbing out another object, this time a small whip and a razor blade.
"P-please don't, please; I….I have money, I'm famous I fucking….Please"
"Didn't I just tell you this isn't about money?" He whispered before bringing the whip down smacking it hard across the younger man's stomach causing him to jolt screaming out in pain.
"I'll give you anything, please just let me go."
"Pleading works for me; I'll let you go once you serve us no more use other than your kidney, liver, spleen, brain, heart, and anything else we can sell."
He brought the whip down again this time against his left leg.
"Strangely enough people are hungrier for body parts than bodies themselves."
He brought the whip down again and again, each time harder and hitting a different part of 2D's body. He kept his eyes tightly shut afraid that at some point the thick leather would be slammed into his face. The hits stopped and for a second he was grateful until the weight of a body settled on his lower stomach. His heart raced when he remembered the razor. He opened his eyes watching with fear, his eyes locked on the glinting little object that Vincent held between his fingers. The blond haired man grinned down at him.
"Please don't, I meant it when I said my boyfriend will kill you."
Vincent laughed.
"Oh little song bird, men are odd; you being a male you should know this, we move on easily. You'll be gone a month or so and he'll forget, some pretty little bird or bloke will cross his path and he won't give a shit about you any longer. Love is more disposable than you'd think. Even your dear mum and dad will stop loving you once you fade from their memories."
"That isn't true, stop lying!"
Vincent smacked him hard across the face.
"I don't lie," the older man said his voice dripping with malice. With those words he dug the razor into the younger man's skin dragging it at least four inches before removing it.
Blood bubbled and ran down the singer's chest. He whimpered and groaned in pain; his body was still in ruins from yesterday.
Vincent began cutting again, still marring the skin on his chest. He looked so fascinated by what he was doing, he leaned down running his tongue across the blood stained skin.
"So metallic and tangy, your body will be worth more to me dead than alive." He whispered almost like it was more so for himself than for 2D to hear.
He moved lower with the blade cutting into his lower stomach. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't; it was like a car crash, except the scene of the accident was his body. He felt a wave of nausea pass over him when he noticed the older man carving a 'V' into his skin right above his right hip bone.
"I brand all of my property, to keep track; just in case by some miracle you did escape."
He wanted to cry, but nothing came of it other than choked sobs.
"Well then enough of this." Vincent tossed the razor aside, stood up from the bed and began removing his clothes.
Now he did shut his eyes, he couldn't watch this happen to himself again.