“I hate you,” A growls.
B tenses, offers a forced smile and laugh. “No, you don’t!” They wait for A to drop the act and tell them it’s just a joke. They don’t. A just stares at them, eyes narrowed and cold. B’s smile fades into stunned confusion and hurt. “A…”
“I hate you,” they hiss again, jaw twitching. “So. Damn. Much.”
Whumpee A’s only comfort in captivity is a stranger, Whumpee B, imprisoned on the opposite side of a wall. They bond by talking, confiding their agony in each other, gaining strength from someone who understands.
Once Whumper finds out, they’re more than happy to remove Whumpee B’s tongue/damage their vocal chords/otherwise silence them forever before relocating them to a different cell.
When Whumpee B stops answering, A refuses to believe they’re dead. They’re going to escape, and they’re going to find B and get them out too. Of course, it’s going to be a lot harder to recognize them solely by their face.
