Trigger Warning! This deals with Torture and possible rApE of a fictional character. If that isn't something you want to read, please find something else
Hiya friends! Longgggg time no see Quite honestly I have had a mixture of writers block and no motivation whatsoever to write. I also haven't been feeling the best mentally. I have just been stuck lately and I'm not totally sure why. However, I'm trying to fix that. There isn't any clear motivation for this, I'm just gonna write and see what comes out. But I hope you enjoy! Don't forget to like and comment! Tell me how you feel!
Much love,
Jay xx
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- - - Steve's POV - - -
Water cascaded from the ceiling, falling until it caressed Steve's forehead, melting into his eyebrow and slowing dripping down his face, gathering in the cleavage of his pectoral muscles. A small groan emitted from the man, echoing in the barren warehouse, the sound bouncing off every wall. He winced as another droplet smacked him in the middle of his forehead; feeling colder than the last.
His eyes blinked opened in confusion and concern. He squinted in concentration, hoping to land on something familiar. Anything .
He felt disoriented, a little dizzy; like he couldn't find his footing. Almost like- A chain above him rattled with his sudden movement, his body jerkily swinging back and forth. He sighed in trepidation.
"Great." He felt the annoyance settle in the back of his throat, his mind working a million miles an hour. He needed a plan; and fast. Slowly he tilted backward as his eyes did all of the work in hopes of searching for something to help him escape, more importantly to help him find the ground.
The warehouse was bare, empty save a door in the furthest corner of the room. He thought about shouting to get the attention of his elusive captor, impatient to meet them but shut his idea down quickly, trying to remain levelheaded. He didn't know what kind of situation he was in; what kind of danger. He knew nothing. There was no advantage here, no upper hand except the one his foes had on him. He couldn't imagine what they would do if he antagonized them. So there he swung, dangling like a worm on a hook. Pure fish bait.
- -
He was in agony. The waiting was torture in itself, enough to drive him crazy. Not to mention the impending dizziness he was beginning to feel, his eyes fuzzy and unclear, little black dots filling his vision. The blood was pounding in his ears, filling his head. He felt heavy, as if he could fall asleep at any moment.
"Cut him down boys. I think he's had enough." An unfamiliar voice rings from a wall in the room, clear, concise and direct. Steve swings his head, frantically trying to find the owner of the voice.
He groans in immediate regret, his heading pounding from the added pressure. He swings for a moment before feeling the jerk of the chain zipping at a fast pace, his body falling rapidly, wind rushing over him in his decent. He gasps a breath of air as a shallow scream follows suit. He squeezes his eyes tight with the build up of a natural fear trickling down his spine. He braced for the inevitable collapse on to the ground trying to be ready for anything.
A shallow breath escapes him as he is unchained, his captors taking their time to edge him down. He is confused, his brain trying to make sense of it all He didn't understand this method, didn't understand their motives to not drop him. He's jolted upright as he's thinking, the sudden movement making him falter on his feet. "Move it pretty boy. We can't do all the work" A voice gruff and deep speaks from his left side, a violent pull on his arm jerking him back upright.
"Agent. That's enough. Just escort him to the chair." That first voice calls out from their post on the wall. Steve tries to follow the voice, to see who it is but to no avail. His head is jerked into a front facing position, eyes focused on a chair that wasn't there just moments before.
They approach the chair quickly, his body being brought down quickly as he is forced into the chair, a grunt forced from his as he is held in place. The agent from the left of his body moves quickly, boots clanking against the concrete floor as he walks away from the center of the room. "Hold him Agent. I'll be just a moment." He shoots quickly, his voice saddled with a deep anger.
Steve protests as he is held tight against the chair, eyes flashing frantically. He reassess for a moment, eyes scanning the room once again, looking for things he may have missed while dangling upside down. He desperately tries to form a plan, grasping at straws when he can't seem to find anything to help him. He could hand it to them, they were smart.
"Keeping looking all you want. You won't find much." That voice speaks yet again, gaining his attention. He watches as the figure steps toward him, tall and muscular but with no trace of familiarity. The figure, just like the agents, was covered from head to toe in black, not an ounce of skin showing.
"Who are you?" Steve grunts, a second pair of hands coming into contact with his body once again, the first agent seemingly returning with the rope.
"Oh darling Steve, you should know better to ask that question." The figure states, forcing Steve to looking up with a squeeze of his jaw.
Steve jerks quickly, eyebrows furrowed into a glare. He grits his teeth through the pain, a small grunt forming in the back of his throat as the agents behind him squeeze the ropes tighter one last time.
"Who are you." Steve tries once more, the words muffled from the vice grip on his jaw. He felt helpless in this moment. As if he was that skinny kid back in Brooklyn. So fragile. weak. powerless. It wasn't a feeling he was used to anymore; the helplessness. It was like a punch in the gut, the reality of the situation.
The figure wags their fingers in a back and forth motion. "tsk tsk Steve. I told you. You know better." They enunciate every word, a smugness about their tone. The hand holding Steve's jaw gets tighter, squeezing till it aches, proceeding to release in a matter of seconds. It was like they were taunting Steve, mocking him. They paced in front of him for a moment, their frame taut in manner, near stiff as a board. "This is what's gonna happen. It's a very simple game. You're bait. That's all you are to me. Just a simple pawn. And you." The figure pauses, turning to stare at Steve once more. "will play your part. If you don't, you will die. Simple. You understand?" The figure pauses in an effort to wait for an answer.
They stare at each other in silence; Steve glaring , eyebrows locked in a permanent frown. He didn't speak, a moment of defiance rising up, if only for this short lived moment.
The figure stays silent, staring down at Steve for a while, eyes glued to Steve's. Steve waited with bated breath, watching in contempt as the figure simply raises their arm before bringing it down abruptly in a harsh, fast movement, something only seen from flag girls at street races.
The air is thick with silence like the moment before a snakes strikes at its victims. Then, without warning, there is the sound of a smack resounding against the walls. Steve nearly clatters back in the chair, his diaphragm stinging from impact. Eyes watering he gasps for air, trying to bring his lungs back to life. No quick as it's over, there is another one and another one until he is knocked clean to the ground, head shattering against the concrete. There is no time for breaths or sounds now, not like he can even begin to try and breathe. He is forced back up, the chair rocking against the concrete before it settles; stammering a few times. The figure raises their hand, their signal to stop.
The agent on his left approaches quickly, a beefy hand grabbing at Steve's hair, pulling it taut into his fist.
"Stevie, Stevie, Stevie. I asked you a question. Do you, understand." The figure taunts, squatting so they are directly in Steve's face.
Steve groans, considering his options. He isn't sure if he wants to give in so soon; to give them the satisfaction of him caving.
The figure steps back again, shaking their head. "Oh you stubborn, stubborn boy." They tut with sheer indignation.
The agents shuffle in close to Steve as the left one releases his hair, only to wrap his hand around Steve's throat. He is merciless as he squeezes, fingers pressed hard against his jugular as Right fiddles in his pants pocket, pulling out a long, circular object into view. He lifts it to Steve, pushing the cold metal against his cheek softly. It was cool to the touch, making Steve shudder, sputtering from the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His vision was blurring, the black dots returning. God. He couldn't concentrate. Any minute and he was gonna pass out.
The sensation began to fade as Left released his pressure, fresh air pouring into Steve. He gasped several times, head having to hang for a moment. The moment of relieve was short lived, a crack of metal splintering against Steve's right side of his face so hard he cried out, blood and teeth involuntarily dripping from his mouth; a sickening crack fell from his jaw.
With the raise of the figure's arm, the agents fell into formation once more, the figure crowding Steve's personal space. "Okay Stevie boy. Let's try this once more. Do you understand the rules of the game?"
"Yes." Steve slurs, blood dripping from his mouth. His head cocks to the side, the pain too much for one day.
"Good." The figure states, seeming satisfied. They stand, their heavy boots clattering against the concrete as they walk away. "Have your fun boys. After all." The figure pauses, laughing a little. "We are just getting started."
- - -
Tell me what you think! Did you like it? Did you hate it? Should I continue? Let me know! This is a little different for me so I would love to know what people thought. Like, comment, share.
Much love.
Xx,
Jay