Sadistic |Simon 'GHOST'//CLASSIFIED|

[Chapter Seven] Where Will You Be, When I'm Not?

LOCATION: [UNKNOWN]
TIME: [UNKNOWN]
Siren//Fraeya//Thkouva
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"The fuck did you do to her-SIRENA!!!!!! Sirena!!!!! No! Get your fucking hands off ME- SIRENA!!!!!!!!" Alejandro's desperate cries echoed off the barren walls as he was dragged down the hallway by a duo of Shadows, tightly holding an arm in each of theres. "SIRENA, WAKE UP!!!! MIJA, PLEASE WAKE UP, GODDAMN IT-"

Ways away from the entrance was an entire line of large prison cells, run down an abandoned from its original plan. Shadow Company had taken over the prison shortly before the events leading up to the betrayal, moving quick to convert it into their own personal domain for whatever they saw fit.

Through the line of prison cells only one sat open, the door stubborn and rustic while sitting flat against the wall. Inside the room was nearly empty besides an old, run down bed near the wall with a chair centered and chained to the floor. Siren sat tightly bound to the chair, falling in and out of consciousness with her head rising and falling. Every small attempt for movement led to a bleeding end, her opened wounds spilling crimson droplets across the floor.

When the Shadows initially dragged her away into their van, Siren had attempted to fight back, kicking and swinging with what she could, but Graves had given the okay to silence her by any means they deemed necessary, leading to the restless Shadows taking turns beating her until she was sucked dry of whatever energy she had left.

The gash across her forehead from Graves' boot had thankfully dried over with bloodied patches lining the wound. On the other hand, the wounds she obtained from Shadow Company had refused to quit, leaving her face a bloodied mess.

"Ya hear that, Fraeya? I think Alejandro cares, add that to your list of admirers." Graves joked, kneeling down at her side. She was unmoving, the elevation and fall of her chest slight as she struggled against the suffocating pain that held her torso indefinitely tensed. She was finding difficulty gathering the strength to move, every attempt to open her eyes started the tornado of dizzying effects.

"God, you are hell to look at....alright, I'm not a complete psychopath, can someone get a medical specialist to come look at her." He rose to his feet, softly patting her wounded shoulder before exiting the room. His footsteps clapped against the graveled floor until fizzling into silence from the distance. Little by little, Siren rose her chin up, her body violently trembling against the heavy weight of her wounded head. As the light fell upon her fluttering hues her stomach flopped, causing a rush of saliva to overflow her mouth. A low grumble rose from her stomach up until she couldn't contain the outburst. Parting her lips she felt the vomit spurt out from her mouth, slapping onto the floor in front of her. The agonizing pressure in her head only increased with more coming out, soon blood began to mix in with each wave of puke exiting her body with an increasing burn throughout her throat.

"That's fucking disgusting." A Shadow muttered as he entered the room, holding a giant medical bag in hand. He was careful to step around the pool of vomit as he advanced to her side, lowering the bag onto the floor. She reshut her eyes to stop the world from spinning, feeling the press of a damp rag reeking of alcohol swiping away at her forehead. Ever so carefully he placed his hand on the top of her head, pulling it back to start wiping away the staining of vomit and blood. Her eyes fluttered open at the pressure of his hand, struggling against the weight of her lids that fought for them to remain shut.

The Shadow threw the muddled rags into a a quarantine bag before pulling out a wad of bandages, retrieving a fresh rag and coating it with alcohol. He rounded the chair to face her wounded shoulder, surprisingly gentle to unzip her damaged bodysuit and slide it down past her shoulders. Attentively, he began wiping away the blood and dirt that muddied her wound, his eyes darting from his hands to her sunken head. With every movement he expected some sort of reaction, but when he was given none it filled him with an uneasy feeling. Gently he pulled her arm upwards, wrapping the bandage through an around, tightly knotting it before moving on to her calf.