¡Ay! Esta imagen no sigue nuestras pautas de contenido. Para continuar la publicación, intente quitarla o subir otra.
~ scissor to the shoulder ~
prompt: broken voice/unable to speak character: matt murdock warnings: violence
"You think I would tell you where the devil of Hell's Kitchen would be? Yeah right, let me just call his number now and ask him how he's doing, maybe where he's at?" You spit out, leaning forward in the chair you're bound to. The restraints being the only thing holding you back from kicking the kidnapper.
The kidnapper belts out a laugh, shaking his head as he looks down upon you. "You're funny, you know that? However, sometimes humor just doesn't fix a situation. Kid, I know you're in contact with the devil, and I know you'll be able to lure him here. So, get to it," his voice comes out gravely, as if he smoked cigarettes for all thirty or forty years of his life.
Just as you're about to say something snarky, he pulls off his mask, setting it down on the table next to you. You remember learning that once a kidnapper or attacker show their face, it typically means they intend on killing you, or mutilating you to a point of no return. Your mouth stays agape, lips trembling at the thought of him doing the same.
"I've met him, yes. I have no way of contacting him, just look through my contacts, I swear," you plead, looking at the man, hoping you could lead him into a false sense of security. He grabs your phone from the table beside you, hitting different buttons and presumably looking through your contacts. His dirt-caked nails clack against the buttons every few seconds.
After what feels like forever, he sets the phone down, looking towards you, "How do I know you didn't have him under an alias? Like who would put a contact as 'the devil of Hell's Kitchen', that's just ridiculous." Your eyes wander towards the table, looking at your phone, at the different tools he had laid out. "You're right, you wouldn't know. Truthfully, you could try calling all of them, I swear. Please, just let me go, I won't tell anyone."
In all honestly, the person behind the contact, 'Matt Murdock' is exactly who he's looking for. While you never want this creep to interact with Matt, you also know that he's one of the only people who can help you out of this predicament. "Let you go? You've seen my face kid, how could I just let you go?" His hand rests on the table, his fingers close to the weapons that could very well be the ending to your life.
"Yeah, I'm pretty good at not telling people things, like for instance- joking, won't tell you," you figure joking can't hurt too much. Hopefully it can help him feel emotionally closer to you, less likely to hurt you. "Seriously, please, I have a boyfriend, I have loving friends, I have to get back to them. Please," your shoulders drop, a frown appears upon your face, and your hand begins to loosen the duck tape as you continuously move it.
"You have a boyfriend? Good for you kid; however, you've seen my face and I can't help but worry if that'll ever bite me in the ass," his finger runs over a set of tongs, his lips forming into a sadistic smile. You want to look away, but his eyes staring into yours, giving you a look that could kill. What saves the day is a phone call going through on his phone, his pocket vibrating with the flip phone.
