Nɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ | 18+

༒ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟽- Iɴsᴀɴɪᴛʏ

I always read the comments you guys make
AMSJADUA OMG THEY MAKE MY DAY

WHY ARE U ALL
SO FUNNY WHAT-

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What they did to me was bad. by the end of it they didn't even need to keep me on a chair anymore , I was too exhausted to fight back. several stab wounds and cuts all over my body it's like I was slowly bleeding out. Left to rot.

It was clear my expiration date was soon coming..

my breathing was wavered as I laid almost lifelessly on the cement floor. it was ice cold and I didn't even have the energy to shiver anymore. I could feel myself slowly wasting away. The need for food and more importantly water was high otherwise I wasn't too sure I'd make through the night.

I was slowly deteriorating into nothing but insanity.

Pale and painstakingly tired I knew I didn't feel or look like myself. how much longer could i go on like this?

Curled in the fetal position my knees to my chest I tried desperately to preserve any warmth I could. I was waiting around for my torture to be repeated all over again. Well-More like wasting around...

and like clockwork I sensed him before I saw him. I could tell by his domineering and unmissable presence. He did this yesterday too. He simply would stand by the rusty prison bars and just watch me silently. He obviously thought I hadn't noticed , he always did it in the early hours of the morning for a few minutes or so. Perhaps he just liked watching me shiver and tremble in pain.

"How long are you Going to stand there watching me like a creep?" I croak. My eyes snapping open they immediately land on his. If he was shocked he didn't show it. He brushes a hand through his tangled messy black hair and I noticed his change in outfit.

Wearing almost the same thing as yesterday , a white tank top, jeans , his chain and rings he would look delectable if I didn't hate him or want to kill him so much.

"Today I'm going to beat this attitude out of you."

as much as I acted strong my stomach sank. he unlocks my cell stepping inside "I'm going to make you break."

I feared there was nothing left to break..

"Get on the chair." He demands

I look over at the rusty chair. The same chair the painful torture started in. I swallow my throat so dry it became painful.

weakly, I push myself up to sit.
the cuts on my arms screaming in agony , moving only made the scars open up again.

Fed up of how slow I was moving , he roughly grips my upper arm and lift/drags me over to the chair ,carelessly chucking me on it , I slouch into it barely able to maintain my posture.

I didn't even fight back when he was tying my arms and ankles to the chair. here we go again. I didn't have the energy.

he takes his usual seat opposite me and simply studies me in silence. I wasn't sure what he was thinking nor could I find myself trying to depict it.
I was depleted. Sleepy. Dazed.

"Ready to talk?" He asks

I remain silent , simply refusing to reply.