AN: I don't know why I wrote this. I'm in a slump right now, trying to finish so many deadlines of my work and then this happens. There's something wrong with me, I think. Send help.
Anyways... ignore my crazy rant. I hope you guys enjoy this little short fic. Scylla's my favourite character in MFS so of course, she needs to feel pain. Okay, I'll stop. Sorry. Enjoy!
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"Rough her up."
"What, no foreplay?" Scylla's eyebrow rose despite herself, looking past the three witches that stood across her and to their Commanding Officer, a man with a red uniform, who stood below the stage.
The man just smiled. "Why, it is. Don't tell me you don't start a little rough, witch?"
They drove for hours and brought her to an abandoned school. Three witches escorted her inside where a man—the CO— was already waiting in the hallways, a tall and well-built human soldier. He wore that special breastplate that could ward off any witch work sending his way.
Walking down the empty hallways had been unnerving. In addition to their silence, Scylla's collar was uncomfortably itchy and with her hands cuffed behind her back, she couldn't reach up to adjust. Her steps were calculated to match the four people surrounding her walkway. She tried hard to control the beating of her heart and to stay calm.
The thought of Raelle finally returning from the Mycelium and of her friends safe from being captured made it a little less nerve-wracking.
So what if Scylla was walking to a place they called Slaughterhouse.
So what if she was heading to her possible execution.
So what if she never got to see Raelle ever again after weeks of scavenging roadkills and animals' carcasses in the wild just so she could hear Raelle's voice one more time.
Raelle was safe. That took precedence.
Raelle was back and she got Tally and Abigail and Edwin.
It would be fine.
Scylla could handle this. She could escape by herself.
She gave the man who was now sitting comfortably on one of the audience chairs a condescending smirk. "Sure. Didn't take you for a voyeur though. How degenerate of you."
Something cracked in his calm demeanour making Scylla's smirk grow in satisfaction.
"Why is she still talking, soldiers?" he barked. "Execute your orders!"
The witches in front shifted their stance. Their hands slowly reached down to untie their scourges. A collective thud echoed through the auditorium as the hard end met the floorboard.
Scylla held her breath, eyes darting between the three witches as they spread around her with a choreographed move like this was not their first rodeo. And the empty stage made for an easy reach for the scourges to land a hit from a safe distance.
She tried catching one of the witches' eyes, gauging her emotion but what she caught were only tight-lipped mouth and a determined gaze.
Scylla swallowed a lump against her throat, wrists instinctively pulled taut trying to free herself from the cuffs behind her back.
The first swoosh of the scourge came right towards her face. She barely registered the incoming attack before she ducked away, filing information at the last second that at least the scourge hadn't powered up. At least she wouldn't lose a limb if it ever landed on her.
The second she moved out of the way, her back was turned against the other two witches and immediately she paid the price when one got her good on the ribs and then another blow at the back of her knee.
She went down on that knee with a painful gasp, her breath knocked out of her lungs as she hunched down to ease her breathing. But, another blow on the back send her face planted on the filthy floor.
She tasted dirt and smelt something fouled and mouldy. And when her vision came, there were some dark stains too. Now that she paid more attention to it, she could see the dark and dried patches all over the floorboards and smelt the rust.
Was this where they slaughtered the captured witches? Slit their throats and never cleaned up after?
Scylla's chest burned, trying to get air back into her lungs but also with something else. Clenching her jaw, she rolled onto her back and hoisted herself up with one swift motion. The scourge came at her almost immediately but she was ready this time, jerking away from its path before running towards where it came from.
The witch in question had no time to reel her weapon back in as Scylla kicked her in the chest. She went down, groaning.
The other two screamed in anger behind Scylla. Swiftly, she turned around to brace herself but could not defend herself when two now light-up scourges flew in her direction and instantly hit her middle, sending her flying and landed on her back with a sickening thud.
She rolled over and coughed up blood down the floor.
There was a steady thump thump thump moving closer and then a disembodied voice floating around, "Do it now."
Scylla didn't have time to understand what that meant, still disoriented. Only after there was a clammy palm covering her forehead and an eerie low seed vibrating the very air around her did her vision clear. The man was crouching over her. One of the witches did the same over her head and then the witch was in.
A cry escaped Scylla's lips at the abrupt mental intrusion. She can never get used to it no matter how much it had happen. Her body recognized the forced entry as abnormal and tried to repulse it. Anacostia was always gentle despite the violation. More prodding around her brain than what it felt now like something was stabbing her brain over and over again, trying to find the answer to whatever they were searching for.
Scylla forced herself to think of nothing as the witch mentally sliced open Scylla's skull and took a peek before moving on to do the same on another end. But, thinking of nothing was hard and putting a barricade was too late so she let her thoughts fill with Raelle instead. Then, it was easy.
The first time Scylla saw her. Their first conversation. Their first kiss. Their first time.
So when the witch sliced open her brain again, all she saw was Raelle's eyes, her nose, her lips, her scars, her pretty face. Scylla's love for her.
It ended far too soon. Scylla was heaving and wheezing at the release and rolled away again. Her vision blurred with unshed tears.
"There's nothing, sir," someone said. Scylla slumped further to the floor if that was even possible.
"What do you mean nothing?"
A pause, before, "She blocked her mind. I couldn't get through."
"Well then," he sounded gleeful. "We can always do the old ways."
There was a shuffling and barking of orders that she chose not to pay attention to. Instead, she catalogued her injuries so far. Her ribs were definitely broken, if the coughing of blood was any indication, maybe something even worse that she couldn't do anything about right now, so she filed it away else she would only panic. Her wrists were aching more than usual, maybe a sprain. Other than that she could still fight or at the least hold on until she could plan her escape.
Or until Raelle could rescue her.
Raelle would come, wouldn't she?
Scylla felt faint.
Belatedly, she realized her body was moved roughly onto her back again. Her cuffed hands dug painfully into her spine.
The witches had settled around her, two at each side, holding her shoulders in a death grip and another climbed on top of her legs, pinning them down effectively. Scylla's breath quickened when she couldn't move anything but her head, even then it was limited due to the collar.
That was when she realized the man kneeling over her head.
"Comfortable?" He asked with an ease about him.
She gritted her teeth and hummed. "Could be better."
"I agree."
A cloth was suddenly placed across her face and then water was poured over incessantly, effectively blocking her airways. Panic consumed as Scylla thrashed around to escape only to be denied such release. Even when she moved her head, the water followed. She held her breath but that only lasted for a time when the water filed in again.
Immediately, she gagged but the pressure kept at it. A gurgling scream came out. It felt like razor blades slicing up her throat and lungs before it suddenly stopped. She coughed up a racket and then some, waiting until her wheezing died down a little to stare at the man looming over her head.
She noticed the five-gallon tank of water at his side. A slow smile spread over her lips. "Refreshing," Scylla said. "Another go?"
The throbbing veins in his neck were about to pop a win in her book even if she got another round.
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Scylla came to with chattering teeth and a shivering body.
The blinding spotlight swam in her vision and burns her retina before she could see anything else. The auditorium was empty and dark aside from the light on her person. Though, that was the least of her concern now.
After the waterboarding, they tried to link with her again but as before, it didn't work. Scylla took pride in her mental stamina and bagged another win for herself. She would never give up her friends to the Camarilla. She would never betray Raelle again.
By the fourth time that they tried to dig inside her head and still failed, the man had ordered the witches to leave and then somewhere along the line, Scylla must have passed out and only woken up now to find herself dangling above the air.
In an instant, her body jerked upward, her feet found purchase to stand up to ease the burden off her shoulders carrying her unconscious body just now. Her bare feet, she belatedly realized, her shoes and socks were gone and so did her collar and leather jacket.
With a swallow down her stinging throat, she tried to do a Working, but every work she sang was immediately thwarted, hollowed out into nothingness. Even the simple 'S' work on her palm bore no success. They must have put magic dampeners all over the auditorium along with the AC on full blast.
Her shivering didn't let up and her wet t-shirt and dripping hair didn't help the situation. But at least her jeans were dry.
Scylla closed her eyes and took a deep breath, even if her chest felt tight, she inhaled and exhaled slowly, calming down.
She could work with this.
There was no one around, they seemingly left her here without a guard and she could use this time to escape and go back to Raelle.
Her heart sang in determination.
First; assess her surroundings. She was still in the same auditorium. The same stage. She could turn around, the chains tied around her wrists didn't deter that but she couldn't walk away from her spot. The metal restraints went all the way up to somewhere above the tall ceilings. It was too dark for her to make the design. She gave a pull to test it out and scream profanities.
Moving her shoulders was a bad idea. An intense pain was there, something that felt like a dislocation on her back, threatening her tears to come out. With another exhale, she tried pulling with her good shoulder instead but it didn't give anything but the cling clang sound of steel chains.
Clenching her jaw and widening her stance, she pulled again and again and again. Nothing happened. Her arms remained suspended above.
Her chest tightened again and she bit back a groan to stifle the pain.
Scylla slouched against her forearm, exhausted. Maybe she could try again later, once she had some rest.
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As it was, her rest was fitful, to say the least. She jolt awake every time her feet could no longer stand and her body slumped forward only to be held painfully by the tug of her wrists and shoulders which then prompted her to stand up again until her fatigue gave way.
It was a vicious cycle of passing out to waking up. And Scylla grew more annoyed than anything the longer it went on.
She had no way of knowing how much she had spent her time dangling in the middle of the stage. The rumbling of the AC was the only constant sound she could hear and the bright spotlight was her company both when she was awake and not.
"Ready to talk?"
She couldn't help but flinch at the sudden voice echoing loudly. Slowly, a figure emerged from behind the spotlight. It was the same man from before. He stopped right in front of her, waiting patiently as his hands leisurely clasp behind his back.
Scylla licked her dried lips, ears ringing. "What?"
"I said..." He stepped forward, his hot breath ghosting across her face. "Are you ready to talk?"
Scylla remained unbothered. "I have nothing to say to you."
"See, they always said that but by the fifth day, they all...break. Every single one of them. But, hey maybe you're special. It's only your third day here, let's just see, hmm."
There was no way that it had been three days, had it? But the overpowering thirst and her overwhelming fatigue seemed to agree with him. She lifted her chin, sneering anyway. "That's an intimidating speech you delivered there. You deserve a cookie."
He stepped forward to deliver a swift punch to her in the kidney.
Scylla gasped, coughing dryly and bending forward as much as she could to ease the pain. Looking up again, she wheezed a "That boost your ego some?" before another blow landed on her face. Her vision blackened for a second, feet struggling to remain standing.
"You're a scum on this earth." He hissed in her ear.
Scylla spat her bloodied spit on his face in retaliation. "Well, your mother should've swallowed you."
The second punch to her face knocked her out cold after that.
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AN: Thank you for stopping by. Until next time!
