TW: BLOOD, POSSIBLE GRORE
(Tom's POV:)
I feel gross..
i hate this man with my guts but I can't, no I'll refuse to talk to him.
I can't let him get what he wants from me, whatever that is.
"I-... *a mumble* " That's all I can say, nothing else can come out of my throat.
My head hurts, my body's weak, vulnerable. I'm underweight and falling asleep in the middle of this. "Is that all Thomas, after everything all you can do is mumble?!" Tord stands back stepping in front of me.
"Fine... If force is all you're gonna reply to so be it" he had untied my hands grabbing me by my arm. He'd pull me along the room dragging me down the hallways, I struggled I'll admit but it's not like I'll escape from here anyway.
A metal door was dragged along the floor, the sound of scraping metal and boots was all my head was listening to. "I have had enough of your silence, if torture will get you to scream or beg so be it Thomas.." Tord's boots spun in a half circle to the door, he left me there. The room was white with grey concrete floors, my head was spinning blurry visions of colours were here and there in the room.
I was tied in a chair, a desk chair, the wheels were removed and it didn't spin. The door reopened Tord had the company of a bottle and blade no, more like a knife. I was silently stalking the man's movements, he's a absolute fucking maniac...
"Now! I think you're not taking this seriously? Maybe we should give a little warning shot hmm" tord paced himself in front of Tom, running his good hand along tom's face, in his other hand is the knife, the bottle full of some colourful liquid had been placed on the concrete closer to the door.(reminder 😔)
Tord removed his hand placing the side of the knife against toms cheek, with the placement he dug the knife down into the his skin, with a quick pull back of the knife, blood ran down his face the cut was deep and bruised along the side. Nothing.
I wish I could just jam that knife Down that excuse of a friend communist's throat.
(3 PERSON:)
Tord had taken his time, small cuts and now slices across toms body.
Stab wounds the one thing that got the point right.
Tord dig the knife down through Toms shoulder a discrete yelp that slowly turned into small screams as the blade was pushed deeper Down in the flesh, fresh skin was ripped and torn blood streaming down from the wound. " PLEa-sE!" A shriek of sobs and quiet mumbles " finally.. not so mute now huh!" Tord laughed (absolute fucking psycho) the quiet cries and sobs made tord pull the knife out of the ripped skin, it was fast no warnings. Just blood.
Tom dropped his head down in a defeated position whimpers and sobs now quiet. He was out, no noise. Tord stood silent staring at the unconscious boy.
"What a waste of time... I could have done so much worst... I can't just leave him here now.." tord turned towards the door, the bottle... " for next time I suppose, *click, static* I need a medic team to room.. 714 no comments shall be made from here" static signed.
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