Absent

Twenty Seven

For those of you wondering, this is what the blood in the vial looks like. Watch with caution.
The moment she got us to her house, she led us to a room. It was a decent room. All except for the lack of beds. It had dressers and tables, covered in all sorts of items, but no beds. In one of the far corners, I saw a few cages. Strange.

"Where are the beds?" Tuesday asked as she rummaged about on one of the more cluttered table.

"In that corner." She paused to point. Straight to the cages. Both of us stared between her and the cages.

"You can't be serious!" I gasped out, shock destroying the mental filter I had built.

She didn't reply to our reactions, instead continued digging around until she found whatever it was. I k we because she made a sound of accomplishment.

She turned around and held them out, brown eyes glittering in her wrinkled, pale face.

"Collars?" looked at them. They were strange collars.

"Yes, now kneel down, both of you, Beautiful Pets, and let me put it on you." She smiled sweetly. Though a part of my head, buried under years of abuse and inability to safely say no, shouted out to me to tell her no, I still dropped down and bowed my head, avoiding eye contact.

She slipped it around and smiled at me, tapping my chin, telling me to get to my feet and watch her, before she pulled out a small box from her pocket.

I stared at it, uncomprehending. The smile she had on her face, though, the moment she brought it up, made my stomach drop.

"Time to teach you proper manners, Pet." She purred. Then her thumb pressed a button and I fell the the ground, clawing at my neck. There was no way to accurately describe the feeling. It was like being shocked thousands of times all at once, repeatedly. Not only that, but it traveled. Down my arms and torso, making my hair stand on end and I tried to make it stop, crying and begging.

Laughing, she clicked off the remote, then turned to Tuesday. "Let that be a lesson. If you even think about taking off the collars, a worse fate will befall you."

Both of bus nodded, or Tuesday nodded and I did some strange rendition of it, my body still aching.

"Now! I will give you today to get acclimated, but tomorrow, the fun begins!" She turned and headed to the door, walking out.

The moment the door shut, Tuesday was at my side. "Mitch!? Are you okay? God, today is not your day." He tried for humor, but neither of us laughed as he helped me sit up.

"Hasn't been my day for a very long time, Tuesday." I smiled bitterly. "I want to see the cages."

He and I, after the painstakingly slow process of lugging my butt to my feet, wandered over to check them out.

The first thing I noticed was the leash, hanging in the back. Then, the bowls, two in each.

"We will be eating out of dog bowls?" Tuesday growled in my ear as he helped my shaky body stay up right.

"Holy shit." I swore. I honestly was not sure about how to feel on this. Cages. Collars. Whatever else this lady had planned.

"Let's see what she has on these tables." Tuesday suggested and I agreed. We wandered over, my legs finally supporting more of my weight.

As long as I held the table edge, I could stay up. I picked up a strange looking vial and nearly dropped it the moment I saw what it was. Written neatly on the glass were words that made me sick to my stomach.

Experiment 37: Type O blood, Diamondback Rattlesnake Venom.

The blood was like jelly in the hat. I couldn't help but gag, barely resisting the urge to throw up what little food I had in my stomach.

I set it back down and stumbled back, crumpling to the ground, physically sick.

"What's wrong?!" Tuesday ran over, that one extra long lock of hair waving like crazy as he moved to me from across the room.

"The-the vial. B-b-blood." I managed out, shaking. Shaking the same way I did when I was sick. I managed to point weakly at the table and he walked over. He held it up and questioned.

"This one?" He set it back down at my nod. How sad. This boy, years younger than me, being the one to comfort me. But I accepted it.

He knelt down by me. "I won't let you near anything else I found in this room then." He said. I smiled weakly at him. "A horror story. That is what this room is. Something straight out of a Stephen King Novel."

"You read those?" I inquired. He did not seem like the type.

"Hell no. I value sleep. And I live a horror story all my own. But I would imaging this to be in one." He shook his head sadly. "Come on, I'll go get you to the cage. You really don't look well."

"I don't feel to chipper either." I replied.

Tuesday laughed as he once again lugged my fat ass up. "I have never heard anyone use that word. What does it even mean?"

"I have no idea." His laugh was just so infectious, I began to laugh as well, feeling something in my chest I hadn't for a while.

It wasn't hope. No. That died with Wednesday. I knew I was never getting out of this mess. So I stopped hoping and praying my family was coming. Stopped believing that I was going to get out of this hell hole.

Joy? No. Not joy. This was something foreign, something I had never felt before.

I brushed it off and we continued. We settled in one of them, Tuesday's head in my lap as I tested against the bars and he curled up beside me.

Hours late, she returned, just as caked in makeup.

"Tomorrow, the fun begins! Oh, and to you, my pets, I am Mistress. Anything else and you will suffer the consequences. Now I'm your own cage." She jabbed Tuesday with a cane of sorts she had grabbed.

He stretched himself out and moved into the next one. She connected him the the leash, then did the same with me, closing our doors.

"See you in the morning, Pets."

~°~
Hey, Scömìche is on a roll. Two chapters.

So many fudging classes in the summer.

3 years four months.

Mitch is 20, Tuesday is about 17-18

Oh, and stay sexy
-Scomiche❤🍓❤