Demonic // phan

Twenty

The only thing he could perceive at the moment was black.

He couldn't see anything, and whether that was because the room he was in was completely dark or because something was obscuring his vision, he didn't know. He couldn't hear anything, the utter quietness making his head hurt. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was tied up to a chair, the wood digging into his back sharply and thick ropes binding his arms and legs together.

And he was panicking.

Breathing had suddenly become impossible, scraping past throat painfully and constricting his chest. He had no idea where he was or what was going to happen to him, but it could, in no way, be anything good.

After another painful five minutes, he'd calmed down enough to try and assess exactly the situation he was in. He had to be inside somewhere, otherwise he'd be freezing; the room was cold, but not enough to resemble the chill of outside. He was shirtless, he realized, and his shoes were gone too. And he had a blindfold on, depriving him of actually seeing where he was being held hostage.

Fuck my life, he thought miserably, tugging at his restraints uselessly. This was just his luck, wasn't it? Being kidnapped right off of the street, and him being too love dazed to to prevent it. What did they want with him, anyway? Did he seriously look like he had any money, anything of value, to offer them?

He groaned, leaning his head back and trying to relax. Freaking out wouldn't do him any good, would probably get him killed. Maybe when they found out he wasn't of any worth to them, they'd let him go. That was the best he could hope for. Of course, they could just be crazy serial killers that got off on snatching teenagers from the streets and slicing into them. Yeah, now was not the time for Phil's vivid imagination.

But just as the quietness of the place was starting to calm him down, he tensed up at the sound of a large crash and heavy footsteps sounding from not too far away. His heart was racing in his chest as they got closer, and he flinched when they paused somewhere in front of him, outside of whatever room he was in. But nobody came in, and a second later, he heard angry whispers, seemingly arguing with each other. He could just make out what was being said.

"...don't care about the fact that he's human, you know damn well he has info that we need!" The voice was male, sounding absolutely furious about whatever the topic of discussion was.

"That doesn't mean you fucking barge in their, ready to cut him open." Another male said frantically, obviously trying to dissuade the other person. "You need to calm down and actually think about this. I know you have some... unresolved tension with-"

"Oh that's what you call it?" The first guy interrupted. "They killed my entire family, that's 'unresolved tension'?"

"Okay, well, he doesn't have anything to do with that."

"Like hell he doesn't! You and I both know he's been consorting with those bastards."

"Look, he may not even know what-"

"Shove it up your ass, PJ, I'm talking to him."

There was a loud bang as the door was slammed open and Phil had only a second to build up any self confidence before there was a hand wrapped around his throat, making him choke pathetically.

"I will give you five seconds exactly to answer me, or I'll rip your fucking balls off. Where are they?" The grip was released from his neck and Phil wheezed painfully. He still couldn't see, but he felt the guy standing right in front of him.

"I, I don't.... I don't know what you're talking about." Phil spluttered. He was terrified out of his mind right now, not knowing what was going to happen to him, and confused. If these people didn't take him to rob him or kill him, what did they want? Who were 'they', and why would he be expected to know? He just.... he just really wanted to go home.