Q stared down at Sal, a large smile spread across his face. He seemed so... dead inside. It actually scared Sal a bit. Leaning down, Q slowly turned his head to the side. His neck cracked and popped with every slight movement it made. Sal tried not to cry or scream again, but he was terrified. He slowly reached his hand out to touch Q's face, but pulled it back.
"Don't be afraid," Q cooed. "Everything's fine."
Sal slowly backed away from Q, only to have a tentacle wrap tightly his legs. He tried to push it away from him, but it was stronger than steel. Q walked over to Sal and grabbed his face roughly. Sal's breathing slowed to an almost stop and his heart was thumping hard against his chest. Q chuckled softly to himself as he pressed Sal's cheeks together.
"What do you want?" Sal asked through clenched teeth.
Frowning slightly, Q let go of Sal's face. He seemed slightly annoyed for some odd reason, but didn't say anything. Instead, he just laughed. His laugh was gravelly and evil, yet so familiar to Sal. More and more tentacles appeared from behind Q's backed and latched onto Sal's limbs. They held the trembling New Yorker in place and prevented him from locking eyes with Q.
"Let go of me you bastard!" Sal screamed. "I'll fucking kill you!"
A thick tentacle worked its way into Sal's mouth and silenced him. Q continued to laugh at his friend's suffering, struggling for breath. Tears started to stream from his eyes and roll down his face. Sal squirmed uncomfortably before an idea popped into his head. Opening his mouth as widely as humanly possible, Sal sank his teeth into the appendage between his lips. Q hissed loudly and pulled the tentacle away from Sal.
"You wanna play dirty? We'll play dirty."
YOU ARE READING
Impractically Broken
HorrorI've had this idea in my head for a while now, so why not write it down. [I NEED TO STOP WRITING NEW STORIES]
