A light, feathery hand brushes over Alfie’s wings. “It’s good that they’re still intact, huh little bird?” He glared at his captor, and opened his mouth to let out a swift retort, but was cut off by a swift punch to the jaw. What little strength he had left in him ebbed away and he crumpled to the ground. “Still haven’t learned? You obey me. You are mine, pretty bird.” Alfie raised his head, still reeling from the punch. “N-never.” His captor grinned. “Hey, you’re getting better. No one but me will want anyone with a stutter.” He continued on, reaching a hand toward the harpy’s neck. “And you’ve only been here for a few days. See how much progress you’ll make when you’ve been here for longer.”
The hand reached his neck and grasped it, getting tighter by the second. Alfie coughed, black spots clouding his vision. His wings fluttered weakly, and his lungs ached. His captor tilted his head, and suddenly let go of the harpy’s throat. Alfie inhaled sharply, hands flying to his throat. “Hold on, I almost forgot something. You’ll be good and stay here while I go get it, won’t you?” his captor said. Alfie’s arms burned, and as much as he wanted to run across the room and kill his captor, he still couldn’t get enough air. He was reduced to a coughing, gasping brown and white mass on the floor.
His captor came back in through the barred door a few moments later. Alfie didn’t look up. “Look what I have for you, pretty bird!” He held out two metal weights and a length of chain. “We need to stop you from using your wings so they don’t get damaged. You wouldn’t want that, would you? No, I need your wings to be in tip-top shape!” His captor chattered to himself as he made the two lengthy strides across the small room. At the last moment, Alfie brought his chin up, and stared his captor in the eyes. He raised his fist, arm burning.
He wasn’t fast enough. In a flash, he was kicked in the head and ribs, again and again, bruises spreading on his skin. “Ngghh, stop, st… going t… to fucking k-kill y… you…” Alfie gasped, the boot opening up old wounds. His captor’s cheeriness quickly turned to anger. “You little shit! I captured you for a reason, don’t make me ruin those wings! Once they’re ruined, you’re worthless. Without your wings, your nothing. You hear me? Nothing.” With a hand on his back, his captor tied the weights around his wings, and tightly wrapped the chains around it. “You see? You’ve lost the privilege of freedom. You’re mine.”