The author has indicated this post may contain content that may not be suitable for all audiences.
Art by Tatsuji Okawa (1904-1994)
The author has indicated this post may contain content that may not be suitable for all audiences.
Random Whump One-Shot
Because I have been stressed and writing is a coping mechanism.
Content warning for character death because my soul is bitter.
~~~~~~~~~~
Whumpee sat on the damp floor, the rough metal of the chains biting into his wrists and ankles. The room was small, barely enough space to stretch out, with a single door that had remained firmly locked since the day they'd thrown him inside. He hadn’t seen their faces—just heard their footsteps, the clatter of keys, the scrape of the tray as they slid food and water to him. They hadn’t spoken a word beyond basic commands, ignoring his questions, his pleas.
Days blurred together in the dark, becoming one long uninterrupted slog, until now. Now, something was different. Above his little cell were muffled voices, raised in alarm. The sound of a scuffle. Whumpee lifted his head, heart pounding, ears pricked and at attention. Although he couldn't discern any of the words being spoken through the thick ceiling and insulation, he could still hear just enough of the voices to recognize that some of them were new. The tone of one was sharp and resonant, as if shouting orders. A wordless yell erupted, and Whumpee was certain it was one of his captors.
His head was spinning. He wasn't sure what exactly was happening, but it seemed that the owners of the unfamiliar voices were not on good terms with the people who'd been holding him here. And that meant they could very well be his salvation - the enemies of his enemies and all that.
The thought flickered, fragile, in his mind. For the first time in days, he strained against his chains, ignoring the biting pain as he pulled against the restraints in desperation. He summoned all his breath and yelled, his voice raw and cracked from days of disuse. "I'm down here! Help—please, someone!" The din above drowned him out, his words swallowed by the thick walls and the rising frenzy.
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Philippe RendezVousWP by Tatsuji Okawa (1904-1994)
The author has indicated this post may contain content that may not be suitable for all audiences.