Encrypted Strings (Spamton x Reader)

Chapter 8. Captive

"You need to learn what it feels like back!" He threatened.

You messed up. It was your time to feel the pain now and you knew it.

The determination that filled your soul soon turned into fear. The beaming spear faded away.

The man gripped your the back of your head, pulling your hair, and bringing you towards his face. Through the bag, you could feel the disturbing warm breath of the man on your frigid neck. "Next time, sweetie, try listening to my words." You could practically hear him grinning.

Your head was launched forward by the unharmed hand of the man.

The black abyss followed.

~

The white abyss burned your eyes. Thankfully, the musty bag had been taken off your head. In your vision, there were splotches of various colors swirling around in the the bubbles in the illuminated purple lava lamp that would mesmerize and distract you from the task at hand.

The fantasy illusion slowly dissipated, the real world following.

You begun to look at the room you were placed in. Behind you, your hands were tied to the back of a beige, plastic-made chair. You were face towards a lovely window, right on ground level. Outside the window the city bustled. Cars zoomed past at unnerving speeds, signs blinked, and yet no one knew you were locked and kidnapped in a room. Everyone outside would just continue on with their normal lives without a single thought of the struggling voices in the world and continue if everything was fine.

Muffled voices seeped through the wall behind you. You could make out some of the words.

"What is wrong with you?!" A familiar voice yelled. "First we throw Spamton into the acid, pass it off as nothing, then kidnap a person?"

"A lightner," the other man specified. "Is a very important asset towards us."

"Asset?" The first man laughed. "Asset!?" He gasped. "You're treating them as if they're an object." The man addressed.

"Not an object necessarily" The man paused to think. "more like a person of use." He paused again. "You know, how 'bout we go check on them to make sure they're still knocked out. I hit 'em real hard."

You heard a series of footsteps approached the door behind you.

Oh crud. You thought, knowing how devastated you were, especially after what had happened beforehand.

The doorknob rattled. Beads of sweat dripped down your face. You decided the only way to maybe survive was fake-sleep.

You slumped over, hands still tied to the chair.

Light creeped into the room from the opened door, the men following.

"They look dead!" You could practically hear the blankness of his face.

"Dead as a door knob" The crude man joked. "A little too dead looking..."

The footsteps shook you.

The crude man yanked your hair causing your skull to bash with the back of the chair leaving the chair to jerk backwards.

A muffled cry of pain left your mouth.

Crud.

You opened your eyes revealing a face you never wanted to see again. The long, elongated, nose of the orange addison, Clayton was almost poking your forehead. His eyes fueled with rage, and arrogance.

"Well, weren't you a sleepy head?" Clayton patronized.

You scowled at him. "Yuph wu't git afway wth dis!" The words were muffled and deranged from the gag, but it was understandable.