Cherish || A Chase x Sweetie Fanfiction ||

(S3-C23) • Cost of the Crown •

The hallway was illuminated in darkness, furniture-less and bare. Beatrice and Princess Coraline passed through. The other living beings were either outside of the castle to patrol and guard or were stuck in cages for their rebellion against the princess's orders of world domination. Ryder was with them earlier but he disappeared all of a sudden. No matter.

Beatrice turned to the sound of a whip cracking on tiles. The female human was getting ready to do damage, whipping the floor a few more times. It was not like it had life to respond with a reaction, though.

"You said we were using Sweetie as an instrument. Why do we need to make her suffer?" the pup said.

"Her emotions are the core source of activation to allow the final phase of Genesis. It's imbued in her system, cursed by her own bloodline. Unless of course, you want to—"

Beatrice put up a growl. The human princess took a peek in the corner of her eye before she smiled, rolling the whip until she could hold it without dragging the end.

"Don't worry. If everything goes as planned, there's no need to tear her apart."

"Make that so or our agreement would be void."

With a straining push, Beatrice entered the room first. There was a single set of bars on the empty wall where the moonlight trespassed, and there was  the white yet dusty marbled floor. An albino-furred pup was suspended into the air by chains. She breathed heavily, refusing to give eye contact to her guests. She had a few bruises and a black eye.

"Chase is fine, Sweetie. You don't need to worry about him. After you left him to die, I doubt he worries about you."

Sweetie retorted against her owner, "He wanted to tell me something. I was important enough to him that he wanted me to escape and live when I chose to end it all and foil your plans."

"It was all but an act." Beatrice shot an observing eye from the irritation in Coraline's voice. "Even if it wasn't, he's a rescuer. They do that no matter what, refrain from having daydreams, we need a strong emotion from you. Now cry!"

Crack!

Sweetie's right cheek bled and a part of her fur was torn away from the hit. Not a single tear escaped, though. Another hit struck her on her belly, leaving a line of red that penetrated her bare skin. It was going to leave a scar—among others that already faded. Tears were still absent. Perhaps whipping wasn't a good choice, that's another method off the list.

"It worked last time. You adapted to the sensation quick."

"I didn't adapt, your blows just couldn't hurt me. You got weaker."

The rest of the dangling chains in the ceiling and the few metal tables in the sides were the only audience. Beatrice was afraid, closing her eyes and covering her ears as continuous whips and strikes of fists tried to break her former friend. Despite her paws on her sensitive antennas, she could make out the slips of grunts of the human with every rotation of her arms, as well as Sweetie's body screaming for rest from the physical trauma.

After a minute, though it felt like an eternity, the Pomeranian raised her head to picture the beaten up pup. Her mouth hung open to breath, unable to do the same with her nose, for it flooded red. The same struggle goes to the princess, whose hands were shaking from the stress and soreness in her muscles. They found themselves equally determined to accomplish their goals, but Sweetie was winning with her ironclad determination.

However, Princess Coraline was anything but frustrated. Her smile was one of the most entertained in the circus. She began giggling. Her work was spectacular in her eyes and she wanted to express it. It scared Beatrice.