《I'm In Love》Bart Simpson x Reader

Chapter Twenty Three: Kidnapped Part Four

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There was a click, and the screen flickered to life, followed by the sound of static cackling. The footage began with static filling the screen before cutting to a scene of a blurred red and yellow blob. The image adjusted slightly and was detected to be none other than Sideshow Bob himself. He confidently sat in a wooden chair with his legs crossed together, his hands intertwined with each other and rested on his knee. The light above barely provided any light around Bob and only illuminated his features, the top of his face was darkened yet the screen made out his infamous smirk carved across his visage. And the glint of nefarious in his dark eyes.

"Hello, Bart." his name rolled off the tip of Bob's tongue with a hint of disgust, as if his name were a poisonous toxin. It was still hauntingly intimidating.

"It's been quite a while, hasn't it?" he inquired, his tone low and menacing as usual.

"Exactly three years, four months, 15 days, 6 hours and.." he trailed off, looked to the side and tapped his chin, "..twenty three seconds." he said as he looked back at the camera.

"Eh..not like I've been keeping track, or anything." he added with a dismissal wave of his slender hand.

"I have something that you've probably been looking for," he smirked again and stood on his feet.

He waltzed on over to the camera stand, humming an unrecognizable song slightly. He grasped his hands around the camera and turned it around to an even more disturbing sight.

The image focused and on the screen revealed (Y/n) laying on the murky cement ground with her back up against the wall, chains running down from the wall and cupped around her wrist keeping her locked up like an animal. Few droplets of crimson blood cascaded down her wrists from the tension the chain was causing around the skin of her wrist.

Her head hung low. Her once shining and sleek (H/c) hair was now caked with muck and tangled in a thick mass, matted like a tumbleweed. Makeup, grime and grease smeared on her features and her costume was slightly torn in spots. It looked as if she hadn't had a decent shower in ages in which she hadn't. As she looked up weakly at the camera, those (E/c) eyes that once were scintillating and held a glistening sparkle were now dull eyes that stared through the lens, void of any emotion except emptiness. Although her eyes lacked any light, they held a thousand words. They pleaded for help.

The sight was sickening, iniquitous in every way.

Bob spun his way into the cameras view and stood a few feet away from the emotionless teenager he captured. He gazed at the camera with exhilaration plastered on his face. This was all a game to him. A sick, twisted and demented game.

"Yes, Bart. You better believe it. It's the one and only (Y/n)!" he exclaimed and clasped his hands together.

He turned his head and looked down at (Y/n), smiling widely.

"Say something to the camera, (Y/n)! We're waiting!"

A moment passed as a silence filled the room. She refused to say anything. Instead she looked down at her lap with a tear escaping from the corner of her eye and glided down her cheek.

"What's that? Got nothing to say?" Bob chided and shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"Typical stubborn teenagers. Got no respect their elders these days. Tch." he mumbled under his breath, his voice loud enough for the camera to pick up.