Snippet #17
Cw: capture, unnecessarily cruel henchmen of Whumper’s, threats, restrained, blindfolded, implied torture, slight beating, scared whumpee, multiple Whumpees, multiple whumpers (kinda)
“Come on, Leader, wake up!” Whumpee pleaded with the unconscious figure, as they futilely tried to shake Leader awake.
They nervously glanced up from Leader’s bruised face, to the enemy squad drew closer.
“Wake up, please! Come on,” Whumpee was frantic. There was no way they’d be able to carry Leader, and they wasn’t about to leave them.
By the time Whumpee made their choice, the oncoming squad had surround them in a tight circle. They pulled Leader’s weapon from its sheath, and scrambled to their feet. It felt awkward and heavy in their hands; it was personally designed for Leader, but it would have to do.
Whumpee was terrified, as the enemies inched forwards, but they would do as Leader taught them. They’d go down fighting.
And they did. It was a quick fight, pitiful really, but Whumpee held their own against the other troop for a few seconds, even managing to land a good blow against one of them, before they was brought to their knees, battered and bleeding.
A hard kick to Whumpee’s ribs, and they were on their side, struggling to suck in a breath. A gloved hand entangled itself in their hair, and pulled Whumpee back to their knees.
“Leader and the rookie? Oh boy, Whumper’s going to be happy,” A voice laughed, as Whumpee’s head was yanked back, leaving their neck exposed.
“Come on,” Another said from somewhere out of Whumpee’s line of sight. “Better get ‘em back before the rest come.”
The hand in her hair let go, but Whumpee didn’t have time to react, before their arms were wrenched behind their back. Cold metal cuffs clasped around Whumpee’s wrists, and they were yanked to their feet.
“You’re seriously going to make them walk? What if they tries to run?” A third person asked, but running was the last thing on Whumpee’s mind, as they craned their neck, and tried to get a look at Leader. They were still unconscious, held in a fireman’s carry over someone’s shoulder.
“You wanna carry ‘em all the way to the truck?” The person offered.
“No, but if we lose them, I’m telling Whumper it was ‘cause of your laziness.” The person shrugged, and started walking off in the direction they’d come. The grip on Whumpee’s arm moved to the collar of their shirt, as the person holding them leaned in close enough Whumpee could feel the heat of their breath on their cheeks.
“Try anything, and I’ll break both of your legs, then make you walk back on ‘em.” The person threatened. “Whumper said to get you there alive, not unharmed.”
Whumpee didn’t doubt that they would follow through with it, but they only cooperated out of worry for Leader. They couldn’t leave them alone, at the mercy of whoever Whumper was.
The walk was only about seven minutes long, but if felt just short of eternity, before a military-grade truck came into view. Whumpee saw a person dump Leader into the back, before something covered their eyes. The blindfold was carelessly knotted in the back, tangling and pulling with their hair.
A pair of hands dragged Whumpee forwards, and lifted them into the back of the truck, before something was wound around their ankles, going up to their knees, and binding their legs together.
“Stay quiet now. Don’t make us gag you.” The truck door slammed shut, and Whumpee was left alone with the unconscious form of their boss.
Ignoring the panic settling in their gut, Whumpee felt around in the dark with their bound hands, until they found Leader’s body. From what Whumpee could tell, their hands were cuffed in front of them. They took Leader’s limp hand in their own, as the engine started up, and the truck lurched forwards, jolting both of the prisoners.
