Betrayal | Ghost x Reader

Mercy

word count: 3k

My eyes fluttered open, and the awareness of my surroundings ensued. I immediately felt the cold concrete floor beneath me. Goosebumps emerged on my skin, God it's freezing.

I slowly sat myself up, a searing headache reminded me of what had happened hours prior. I lightly rose my hand to my head and felt around for the source of the pain. With a soft touch, my fingers found the large gash on my forehead and I lightly winced in agony. I could feel dried blood caked all over my face, gross.

I slowly looked around the tiny cell as any sudden movements caused my brain to scream in anguish. The walls were bare concrete with tiny cracks running up from the floor to the ceiling. The dim lighting casted long shadows on the few things I was graced with in this shithole. And by things, I mean thing, and by that, I mean a mattress, and by that, I mean a long strip of padded fucking cardboard. How kind. Not to mention it smelt like shit in there.

I sighed in misery. I'd choose death over this torture any day. 

My gaze then became fixated on the large iron door in front of me. After visually examining it for a second, I quickly realized the locking mechanism was on the other side. Whatever. I didn't know how to pick a lock anyway, and I doubt the lock would've even been that simple. I rolled my eyes and sighed again.

The sudden urge to pee caught me off guard. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion before I noticed the tiny drain on the floor and a used roll of one-ply toilet paper laying next to it.

Oh. My. God. Not even two-ply? I didn't even know they made one-ply toilet paper.

My dignity was much more important than a full bladder. Well, that's what I told myself for the first couple hours at least, before I started bargaining with my own mind, which ultimately ended up with me crouched over the drain with a large wad of one-ply in my hand. 

And there's no trash can, "Great," I mumbled to myself. I decided that was going to be a problem saved for another time.

I slowly stood back on my feet and walked the extremely short distance to my piece of cardboard before sitting down on it. I rested the back of my head against the cold wall behind me and stared up into the dim fluorescent light. The sharp pain wracking my skull seemed to subside, at least a little.

More hours passed and boredom seemed to consume me. My eyes wandered aimlessly around the small space I had been confined to, tracing the same patterns on the walls and floors that had become all too familiar. The passing of time became an agonizingly slow and indistinguishable blur.

I found myself lost in a deep thought, the darkest corners of my mind were the only thing to keep me company.

I wondered about Blaze, if he was okay. How long did he wait for me before he realized I wasn't coming back? Does he think I'm dead? Does he know I was captured? The same sort of thoughts raced through my mind before landing on the scariest one, one that made my blood turn cold. Did he die waiting for me? I chewed at my lip. No, no. He was resourceful, like he said. But the hours began weighing on me, and it was getting harder for me to argue against my own mind. 

I needed a distraction, something, anything.

I surveyed my limited options and finally narrowed it down to two. Workout, or bash my head into the wall.

I chose the former.

I slowly stood up and stepped a few feet to my left, placing me in the middle of the cell. Bodyweight exercises would have to suffice. I dropped to the floor and placed my hands firmly on the cold concrete, holding my body in a plank position. I began to lower and raise myself rhythmically, push-ups quickly became my staple exercise. Each repetition past my limit allowed my mind to remain focused on one thing, pain.