Pain - A TommyInnit Angst

Chapter 25

Wilbur

Hey Toms, just checking you're okay? It's getting dark, you should probably head back. Want me to pick you up?

Tommy contemplated this for a moment; it really was getting dark quickly, and it was a 45 minute walk back to Wilbur's house, so it was sure to be pitch black by the time he got back. But he wanted this walk to be something he did by himself, independently.

Tommy

I'm good, and I think I'll walk home but thanks for the offer :D

Tommy slowly trudged his way up the beach until he reached the winding streets. He began the trek home, his heart pounding as he realised that it was getting dark even faster than he had anticipated. A large part of him wanted to call Wilbur and ask for a lift, but he shoved that part down, determined to do this by himself.

He had just turned the corner onto another street when he felt a hand wrap around his mouth and something hard hitting him over the head.

Darkness.

• • •

Tommy's eyes opened slowly.

Where was he?

He was curled up in a ball; attempting to stretch his limbs out, he realised that he was enclosed and his heart dropped to his stomach. His breathing became shallow as his mind raced, trying to work out what was happening.

Trying to think logically, he came to the conclusion that this must have been a targeted attack; it would be too much of a coincidence for so many bad things to happen to one person by chance. Was it his parents? No, it couldn't be. They were in prison.

He tried to steady his breathing, trying to take in more of his surroundings and ascertaining that he was in a moving vehicle from the way the container he was in was bumping around slightly, and the sense of movement.

Where was this person taking him?

He closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing, imagining that Wilbur was in front of him, counting his breaths. He was surprisingly calm, given the situation; perhaps it was the adrenaline pumping through his veins that numbed the shock and terror. He tried not to think about the tiny, cramped container he was in, but his claustrophobia eventually took over and he began to uncontrollably panic, hyperventilating.

But finally, it was over.

The vehicle stopped, and through his fast and shallow breaths, Tommy heard a car door open and footsteps on what sounded like gravel. Part of him was relieved that this person was probably going to let him out of this confined space, but another part was petrified about what they were going to do to him now.

Perhaps it was a joke?

Maybe it was just Wilbur pranking him?

Who was he kidding.

Tommy listened intently, tensing up as he heard the sound of a car boot opening, and then the distinctive sound of a zipper. Was he in a suitcase?

He never found out though, as his captor immediately threw a bag over his head and wrapped an arm around his mouth, before roughly picking him up as if he were a ragdoll.

Tommy's heart seized; he hadn't been handled this roughly since the last time his parents tortured him. He could barely breathe, and prayed that wherever he was being carried to wasn't too far away.

It wasn't.

He felt himself thrown onto what seemed like... a bed? The bag was ripped off his head, and he scuttled back, barely able to see due to his eyes still adjusting to the harsh light.

He felt a hand holding him down and his heart began pounding even faster.

As his eyes began to register the scene in front of him, he took in the sight of what appeared to be a man of perhaps thirty, with a dirty, unshaven face and blank, emotionless eyes.

They reminded him of his parents' eyes.

'P-please, please j-just let me g-go, I-'

His pleas were cut off when the man grasped Tommy's throat tightly with one hand. He manoeuvred himself so that his body was holding Tommy down, and used his free hand to begin pulling his sweatshirt over the top of his head.

All Tommy could think about was how this was what his parents would do before hurting him. He began to sob uncontrollably, desperately trying to move out of this old man's grip, praying for someone – anyone – to come and help him.

Once the man had forced his sweatshirt off, he reached over the side of the bed and pulled up a thick rope, using both hands to tie it around Tommy's bare chest so tightly that he couldn't breathe. The man then proceeded to wrap the same rope around tommy's wrists, then continuing to wrap the rope around his body so that he couldn't move his arms at all.

The last thing Tommy saw through his tear-blurred eyes was a fist pummelling towards his face.

And then nothing.