Traitor Verse: Jo and Ari @just-horrible-things @whump-sprite Timeline: Directly after being exposed as a witch, follow up to the reveal Ari and Jay (mentioned only) belong to @just-horrible-things​

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They cauterize the gunshot wound, hands and chains holding her still as the hot iron is pressed to the open wound. Her back arches against unforgiving hands, and she bites her lip on a choked cry as her leg is held down for the so-called treatment. An antibiotic is stabbed into her arm, and then she’s yanked to her feet again and ordered to move. Orders only. She’s not a person anymore, just a filthy witch. Why would they bother talking to her?  She can feel the hate rolling off of them. Her hands are wrenched and cuffed behind her back, one guard on each side, with one leading the way and another trailing behind. Taking every precaution to ensure she won’t escape. They’re half-dragging her, and half-demanding that she walk. She can’t put weight on her leg, stumbling and practically hopping as she’s shoved roughly down towards the cells. Everything feels like a dream, still having trouble connecting the truth of what happens next.

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a knife through the hand, pinning a character to the ground, their fingers shaking and little whimpers escaping them as each movement brings pain

((this is a human version of scarecrow, modern day. he’s only 19 or so))

This wasn’t the first time he’d pissed off his employer, but certantly the most painful. He hadn’t expected the baseball bat to the head, or the knife through the palm of his left hand when he was prone, laying on his back. Everything else, though? That was normal. Now he was alone, any twitch of his fingers bringing more pain. His breathing hitched as he instinctively tried to pull his hand closer. If he rolled to try to grab the knife, or just pulled it out as he lay now, he’d just tear his hand open even more. Serrated steel had that sort of effect on a person.

Sayyid let a small noise escape his throat. Everything hurt. He’d have to find a way to hide this. A shirt could cover the brusies that would form on his back. Luckily, his employer didn’t want to leave obvious or lasting injuries on people in their hire. Not for this kind of work. Anything that drew attention would be the end, and already he drew enough that everything he did was monitored by him employer. Sayyid closed his eyes as he tried to remember what he’d done this time. Was it- yep. That argument. He couldn’t remember the specifics even, but the young, hot-headed hitman had said something… Right. Tried to correct his employer. Oops.

The door to the small room opened and a woman with short hair stepped in. Sayyid kept his eyes shut and didn’t bother to stiffle his whimpers anymore. He knew who this was. To him, she was the closest he’d ever get to see of his mysterious employer. It was her he’d argued with. He sometimes confalted the two in his mind.

“Are you done arguing, boy?” she asked. Sayyid went to speak, cut off by his own cry of pain as the knife was roughly torn out of his hand.

“Y-yes, Sir,” Sayyid whimpered. He didn’t dare move. He’d gotten hit enough times in life to know that you didn’t move until they said you could.

“Louder.”

Sayyid cringed and yelped as he felt her step on his already injured hand. Eyes shut eyes shut eyes shut

“Yes, S-sir,” he answered, a little louder this time. The weight dissapeared from his hand.

“Get up.”

Sayyid pulled his hand closer and quickly got to his feet. He looked at the taller woman. She crossed her arms.

“What are you waiting for? You’re free to go.”

Sayyid blinked stupidly at her. The woman merely walked over and slapped him across the face to break him out of the stupor.

Sayyid nodded, taking a few cautions steps towards the door to the hallway.

“S-Sorry, sir. You said-”

“Go home. We’ll contact you when you’re needed again.”

When he was sure he wouldn’t get punished again, he power-walked towards the exit.

Maybe he could find a way to do this job and not get the shit beat out of him every time he made a mistake.

Biggest Fan

“What is this?” Whumper asked at the sight of Whumpee, their Whumpee, trussed and gagged, staring at them with eyes that pleaded for rescue instead of mercy. They hadn’t seen them in months, not since they escaped. 

“I found them for you.” Another stepped out from behind them, wearing clothes similar to their own and a manic grin. “And who are you, exactly?” Whumper asked, eyeing them warily.  “I’m your biggest fan.”

Mikel immediately cowered back in the chains as the other man emerged, trembling worse than Jae had ever seen before. He was terrified.

“Biggest fan, eh?” He asked with a slight nod. “Tell me, how long ago did you find him?” He gestured to the hyperventilating young man.

“About five months ago.”

That was when he’d escaped. Jae felt a flash of anger as he realized what must’ve happened. “He never ran, you took him. You stole my property.”

“Well that’s how you do things, isn’t it? Grab people from their homes when they aren’t expecting it? Besides, I needed someone who knew your particular style to see how I was doing.” He grinned, his gaze chilling. “Your boy here really enjoys our games. Don’t you, darling?” Mikel frantically shook his head and whimpered, tears in his eyes.

The man glared and took a step towards Mikel, who immediately squeaked and cowered as far back as he could. Jae moved without realizing it, standing in between the two of them. “While it was nice of you to hold onto my boy for me, I believe it’s time for him to return home with me.”

The room fell silent for a moment, except for the faint, frantic whimpers from the corner. The man finally spoke up. “Must you leave so soon? I’d love to have your input on some of the games I’ve created.”

Jae forced a smile. “Perhaps another time. On someone who isn’t my property.” He turned and moved towards Mikel, noticing that the boy could barely hide his relief. But his eyes suddenly widened, and he let out muffled, frightened sounds. Jae didn’t have a time to react before he felt something slam into the back of his head, and he fell forward with a grunt.

“Sorry, but I can’t let you leave yet.”

The last thing he heard was Mikel’s muffled screams before his head was hit again, and the world went dark.