Warnings and disclaimers are the same as before.
I woke up to a low grumbling sound above my ear. I shifted my head slightly and realized that the blue haired man was resting his head on top of mine, holding me there with his arms. I moved around experimentally, seeing if I could break free.
His grip was solid.
The covers stuck to my nude thighs, and the feeling of his skin touching my skin was many things, excluding every synonym of pleasant.
Just then, he snorted and moved his body so that his morning wood was pressing up against my back. I made a disgusted face and tried to move away, but I was stopped by a low growl. Was there a dog or something that was asleep last night in the room too?
If it was from him, it definitely didn't sound like it. What it sounded like was an animal.
"Are you trying to run?"
"How could I run when you have this vice grip on me?" And after all, you seem to be half beast, so you could probably smell me out.
His nails dug deep into my skin and he growled again, this time turning it to a half roar at the end.
"You can't run from the-" The sentence ended with a howl and I flailed around trying to get him off of me before he ripped out my throat or something equally gory.
He suddenly stopped yelling and let me go, sending me tumbling to the floor.
"What the fuck was that?" My voice shook without my consent.
I stood up slowly. It was still as dark as last night.
He yawned. I heard him crack his knuckles. "What was what?"
"You kept making all these noises, you sounded like a rabid Doberman."
"Oh, that? Sleep talking. It's a bad habit. We have to get you clothes." He brushed it off like a second thought, like it wasn't half as shocking as it really was.
I heard the rustling of the bedsheets, and a hand landed on my shoulder. The perfect accuracy in complete darkness was still extremely unsettling.
"Need some assistance moving around? You sucked ass at finding the door in the dark from what I remember."
After a quick fight that ended with my arm being twisted up behind my back, I was walked like a convict to the door.
The light in the hallway hurt my eyes despite being so dim and I took a few minutes to adjust. We walked down a damp hallway, taking several turns and finally arriving at a dark brown door, the number eight handsomely carved into the wood.
I once again remembered that I was naked and hastily tried to cover myself, but Grimmjow's hand stopped me.
"Fuck, am I not allowed any decency? Am I going to have to take a dump in front of you too? Let go of my fucking hand you prick."
His face contorted into one of annoyance, and he wound his fist back. I tensed for the blow and prepared a punch of my own when the door suddenly banged open. The noise made me flinch. I hated how that one incident had gotten me so jumpy.
Honestly, I was pretty used to getting hit by doors. My friend Rukia had this horrible habit of slamming doors behind her wherever she went, and I was usually the one who got hit by them.
God, I missed her, even when she left me to deal with the gorillas who didn't get their weekly shipment of crack because Rukia had been with her friend Orihime one time last month. Orihime wasn't in the Seireitei, but she would sometimes come over and help sort the shipments while she messed around with Rukia. She was a nice girl, and had a great body-even though I don't really notice those things on a regular occasion.
Hell, I missed Orihime too.
"Liking the view? I'm sure liking yours."
The disturbingly smooth tone of a deep yet weirdly effeminate voice jerks me back to the matter at hand.
A man-at least, I think it's a man-with bright pink hair, clunky silver-rimmed glasses, and a lithe body perches on the edge of the doorway, twirling the end of a frayed rope in one hand. Their eyes rove over me, and I feel like I'm being groped wherever they stop. I feel unexplainably dirty.
"Does he speak? Or have you eaten his tongue for a snack Grimmjow?"
The blue haired man sets his stance wider and solidly places his hand on my shoulder. I assume his name is Grimmjow, judging by the way his glare deepens at the saying of the name.
"He's fine and doesn't need to talk to the likes of you, Szayel."
"Oh, but I've already broken my toy while it seems yours still has some fire in it. Mine cracked so easily and is much bigger than this tangerine twig. You've been much too careful lately."
The look on his face darkens for a second. "I don't like it."
He jerks the rope and clicks his fingers, and a hunched form crawls out and braces himself against the other side of the doorway, edging as far away as possible from the pink-haired man, who I think is named Szayel. The figure has bright red hair, almost like-
Renji.
You know those times when the world just stops for a second and you can't breathe and you feel like you're going to suffocate?
That's what I felt like right now. Renji wasn't wearing any clothes either, and it looked like the abuse inflicted on him was horribly harsh and very recent. There were these bright red marks that looked like whip lashes on his back and arms, and his hair wasn't in a ponytail, but cut by what looked like scissors when one closes their eyes before snipping. He was hunched over in what I now realized was a sign of defeat.
But the worst part was definitely his eyes.
I couldn't see anything in them. Renji had always had very strong emotions where you could catch everything he felt in one glance at his face. But now it looked like Szayel, this sick animal, had dissected him and ripped out his soul. I choked and staggered back a little, my eyes wide.
Was this going to be me? Would I turn into a soulless husk? How long would it take if Renji lasted around nine hours?
I felt bile rising in my throat and I vomited right onto the guy's ragged welcome mat.
Grimmjow immediately held me by the collar and slapped me, hard.
I barely felt it. Seeing how Renji had been reduced to this in less than 24 hours made me surprised that Grimmjow hadn't done the same to me, seeing as he was more animal than human.
"He's not very well trained, but he will get there. Do you have any clothes? Ones that would fit him?"
Szayel rolled his eyes, nodded, and left; jerking Renji along with him. He came back after a few minutes with a neat pile of folded clothes.
"Here, take these and train that animal." He said, giving Grimmjow the clothes and a box.
"Yeah, yeah." Grimmjow grumbled.
Back at the room he tossed me the clothes, unclipping my leash and flopping down on the bed with a sigh. He tugged a string hanging from the ceiling and a dim light flickered to life.
"God, I hate that guy," he said. "He thinks were all just toys for him to play with."
I pulled on the clothing, a gray shirt and white boxers, thankful for the cover. The silence and his words hung in the air. I was weird to hear him being so familiar with me, like we were friends of something of the sort(which we most definitely were not).
Grimmjow sat up after a few more minutes of stillness. "That's right." He mumbled.
"The box."
He scooped up the box from where it had been carelessly flung to the ground. Tossing the lid into a grungy corner of the room, he stared at the inside with a look of slight shock and disgust.
"Is this a joke?" He sounded annoyed.
I was slightly curious now. What had that pink haired fuck given to Grimmjow to bother him so much?
And then he pulled out the whip.
Immediately, I scrambled back from Grimmjow and moved into what I hoped looked like a defensive stance. Adrenaline made my blood soar, heart pounding hard enough to crack my ribs. Grimmjow uncoiled the whip slowly, giving a tiny flick of his wrist to make it jump a little. I guessed the whip to be around six feet long-reaching easily across the cramped room-with a sharp metal tip that was still stained with what I guessed was Renji's blood.
Grimmjow alone could probably overpower me, considering the height, weight, and amount of muscle he had on me. With a whip I would end up dead if I resisted.
"I-If you're going to do it, do it quickly and don't bloody up anything important." My voice shook uncontrollably, along with my hands as I began pulled off my shirt. It hurt to accept that this was my best option, and I prayed I would lose consciousness quickly so I wouldn't have to feel so humiliated.
He began to walk closer to be, whip clenched tightly in his hand. I braced myself against the wall and screwed my eyes shut, ready for the incoming volley of lashes.
But, rather than the harsh bite of metal, a hand was laid on my sweat-soaked shoulder, shocking me almost as much as he would have if it was the whip.
"What, you think I would use this shit?"
I heard the thump of the whip as he pitched it across the room, frozen to the spot and unable to turn around. I felt like I had escaped death row somehow.
"If I'm gonna break you, it'll be by my hands, not some little sissy rope. And definitely not with something that Szayel gave me."
He turned me around and slapped me again, harder than before. Despite this, I was filled with a weak feeling of relief-as ridiculous as that may sound.
Slinging me onto the bed(the room was extremely small, I could probably reach the other side in less than fifteen steps), he laid down beside me and promptly fell asleep. I was getting tired of being thrown around like a rag doll, but I realized now that if I tried to escape I would probably be caught by someone far worse than Grimmjow after my encounter with Szayel. My only hope was to stick with him(keep your enemies close) and wait for an opening.
I'm struck with the idle thought as I drift off on the floor that for a moment after I heard him throw the whip away-one extremely fleeting moment mind you-I thought he could almost be human.