𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐱 | 𝟣𝟪+

|59| 𝒮ℴ𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝒶𝒷𝓈ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ

Two men are carrying me to the cellar.

I would probably be able to
walk if they didn't drug me,
my whole body is paralyzed.

The only thing I can do is blink,
speaking is out of my abilities.

Max and his relatives don't enjoy my presence, well, only his relatives.

Max is dead, I should be dead soon.

My feet drag against the cement,
one of the men trip, resulting in me
falling face-first onto the cement.

I feel a sharp pain in my head,
making me grunt.

Surprisingly they haven't
dislocated anything or caused
any permanent damage.

Most of them are young,
they don't know how to torture
someone without killing them.

I've been punched, kicked, bitten,
yes, I have been bitten, the
little rabid teenagers bit my arm.

Actually, they did dislocate my arm
when I first got here, but I fixed
it the first moment I was left alone.

Now they decided they would
chain my arms up to ropes that
are attached to the ceiling,
it's easier for them to cut me.

Even the food they provide is drugged,
and the rooms are cold, like usual.

The only thing I would consider
unbearable are their questions;
mostly about Marceline and her
current condition.

We only know because they
have my phone and
my wife is sending me voicemails.

She thinks all of this is her fault,
it's far from it. I want to tell her
that and explain all of this to her.

I don't like knowing that she is in
pain, I want her to be happy, I'm
afraid that if she hears from me again,
it will reset her whole process.

Max and I made a deal, his siblings
and cousins that are part weasel can
have me if they leave Marceline alone.

Their torture will improve eventually,
they have injected multiple
things into my arms and neck;
so I could be slowly dying.

I could leave, it wouldn't be
difficult to break out, like I said,
their part weasel part idiot.

My reasons for staying are her and her safety. If being tortured sixteen hours a
day keeps her safe, then I will endure it.

She is smart, and now she has
everything I owned, if they have
accepted I'm gone and moved on.

Odds are she hasn't, but if I'm gone
long enough she will.

Going back to her would be selfish,
she could live a safer life without my involvement.

Do I find the thought of her marrying someone else repulsive? Yes.

Regardless, If that's the only
way she can be happy
then I will get over it, kind of.

Before I left for Germany, I sorted
everything for her,
she should be able to adjust to
the company and new life easily.

Xavier knew I would be gone so he is
handling everything,
multiple guards are watching her at
all times, I'm not even counting the
ones that are in the house.

The men pick me up again, and while chaining me to the ceiling
they explain what I'm in for tomorrow.

Getting my right arm dislocated,
stabbing my lower waist,
shaving my head, removing my ear
and a few teeth, might add a hand
removal to the list if they aren't too busy.

See, I'm not really interested in the hair
or teeth part, and my hand.

The other ones aren't strange,
none of it is, I'm not
worried, I have an escape plan.

Well, not exactly an escape plan,
I am leaving this household cellar,
then I will find
the new boss of the German mafia.

If I can't negotiate for my freedom,
I will go back to the cellar
and slowly wait for my life to end.

Thinking Marceline was dead is
harder than dealing with this,
my only complaint is their presence
and high-pitched whiney voices.

I only find this unbearable when
I have to hear her cry and not be
able to fix it; one more voicemail and
I won't be able to stay here any longer.

___________________________

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