Twoset Violin oneshots or possibly more

Blighted Heaven

Part 5

Authors Notes: Woohoo we're almost done! Make sure to go vote on it on TheFartingRabbit's wattpad too!

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When the first rays of sunlight were peaking through the blinds, Brett turned around and shut them close. He didn't want to be awoken that early. The sweet, delicious metallic smell of blood was around him and the warm body next to him was way better to wake up to. Brett opened his eyes. Right. He went all out yesterday on Eddy. Even when the man had begged him with tears in his eyes.

Brett listened carefully but found no guilt. He damaged Eddy and his brain even further and he wasn't feeling guilty about it. Not even one tiny bit.

Curious now if that would change if he saw the wounds he inflicted on the warm body next to him, he sat up and peeled the blood-soaked blanket from the wounds.

Yep, the back was almost ripped apart. The bloody whips he had used were still lying around somewhere. He traced the biggest one with his fingers. The flesh was hot to the touch and swollen. It was most likely Eddy got a fever from that. Crusted blood was everywhere, in some places new blood welled up because he ripped the wound open when he took the blanket away.

Brett pushed the blanket completely off the bed, wanting to soak in the beautiful mess he created. Between Eddy's legs was also blood. His ankles and wrists were black and blue, probably from the shackles he used. Where Eddy was not bloody, he was blue. Brett remembered that he kicked and punched Eddy quite often. How badly would his face be beaten up?

Before he would look at that, he would inspect the front, so he turned him around, not really minding the pain he inflicted on Eddy once more.

The nipples were still an angry red and they were bloodshot; welts all over them, he struck him hard with the cone. The abdomen was ugly blue and sometimes black, the dick was still there - much to Brett's surprise. He didn't cut it off apparently. The thighs looked like the arms: beaten and whipped to the point that skin broke and blood ran freely. But he didn't break any bones so far. His fingers traced the burn wounds he inflicted on Eddy with a cigar in the middle of the night. The rips would never look the same. Then his eyes fell on Eddy's most beautifully painted feature: The neck and the face.

No way Eddy would go out anywhere close to two weeks. The neck had handprints from where he pressed down as he fucked into the man. So many times Eddy's eyes rolled in the back of his head, only to be awoken by more pain.

The cheeks were swollen and the left eye was black. He remembered punching Eddy when the man had the audacity to mock him. He inspected the hands of the musician, thankfully nothing happened to them. It seemed he showed some restraint as to not crush each and every finger, break every tiny bone. He liked Eddy's violin playing, so it was no wonder.

His fingertip caressed some of the swollen welts littering the body. He would accept the fate Eddy was probably planning the whole time in his head. Brett didn't think he would make it out alive, not with the horrible state Eddy's body was in. It was a miracle they didn't need to go to the hospital. It would probably be better if they were, but how would he explain the state? That looked too much of a beating, not to mention the bite marks all over Eddy. No, that would cause a lot of raised heads and him being incarcerated for a long, long time. Eddy looked like he escaped death only by a sliver, and that would be correct.

Brett promised not to kill him and that was why Eddy was still alive in the first place.

The doctor watched the up and down of the chest. Was Eddy sleeping or still out of it? Probably a mix of both. His eyes wandered to the take out. Now he was hungry.