Expiramental Love (Style, Bunny, & Creek, South Park)

Only Mine

Tweak’s POV

I lost tract of time. Something sticky replased the cold metal. It was dripping. No. Crawling. Crawling out of the metal, through the handcuffs, up my arm. Small whispers slipped through the clay in my ears. Telling me to do things. Cut my arms open. Burn the doctors. Eat the meat. Tear off the ears and tails. Start a collection. Choke myself. Watch the life drain from Craig Tucker’s eyes. Escape. Escape? Through all the insanity, escape was clarity. Though, I felt eyes. Judging eyes. Go through this. Escape. Do you really want to continue this awful life? Now, I was enraged. The anger flooded my mind. I yanked on the chains. I kept yanking. I have to break them. 

I felt my throat burn. It felt as if I was screaming. Burning out my throat. The sides burned. The sides weaken. Metal cut into my skin. I tried to stand. Chained to the ground. I continued to pull. Pull away from confinement. Cold, strong hands clamped my shoulders, pulling me down. I pulled away. The hands gripped harder. Nails slightly digging into my skin. Pulling in every direction, trying to escape. Tugging and pulling. I felt limp. Weak. Everything was heavy. The voices got louder. I fell. Head pounding. 

The black fabric was removed. I saw everything. The dim light of the room. The feet of two or three doctors. Blood dripping from my wrists. The clay was taken out. I heard talking. Five voices, maybe more. Something about me finally breaking. I want out. The chains let go of my bloody skin. The hands let go. I was now able to stand. Everything hurt. My legs were frail and weak. I was barely able to walk. 

“Let’s get back to your cell, Tamer 069-04,” Dr. Clark declared, gripping onto my arm. 

I jerked away. No. I’m not listening to any of those doctors again! I sprinted. Same halls. Same turns. Same rooms passed. Same cells. It’s all the same! It’s all the fucking same! I found the same cell. Same cell I’ve been here for countless years. I want out! I want out! I want out! I opened the cell, quickly closing it. 

“Tweak, what happened?” Craig yelped, running up to me. 

Don’t attack. It’s Craig. A sigh escaped my lips. I looked over to my kitty, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“We’re getting the fuck out of here,” I declared.

Strong arms wrapped around, lifting me. My legs wrapped around the taller’s waist. I was now face-to-face with my hybrid. 

“Tweak, no one has ever successfully escaped,” Craig quietly responded. 

“That’s because they couldn’t figure it out,” I smirked.

I released from the hybrid, going over to the busted desk. One by one, the drawers were opened. The search for scrap paper and pens or pencils began. Craig came over. One scrap paper. Two papers. A snapped pencil. Blown up pen. A working pen. Three papers. Paper clip. Small yet working pencil. That should be enough. 

On one paper, I drew a map of the facility. Every turn and hall I’ve ever taken. All the cells I’ve passed. All the screams and cries I’ve heard. All the torture everyone here has gone through. It pained me. Sure, I did kill before coming here, but that was to survive. This is all a game to those psychos. Every detail had to be percise. Each cobweb. Each crack. Each rat. Everything. 

“Shh, breathe Tweak,” Craig soothed in my ear. “You’re getting worked up again.”

Deep breath in. Hold. Deep breath out. 

“Thanks,” I smiled. “And, this is the map of everywhere the tamers or creatures should’ve gone.”

I placed the map down in front of both us. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Craig studying the piece of paper.