Livestock don't beg for their lives~ (vincent x rody) ;))

🔪 so, what will happen to me now?

Rody woke up in a cold sweat. He was... alive?? It was the second time he had passed out in the last 12 hours, which was not a very enjoyable experience. He seemed to be facing a door, leaning against a bed... Vince's bed? On the wall there hanged a clock that showed it was 7:43 in the morning.

He tried to move, but searing pain shot through his right arm, so much so that he had to bite his tongue not to scream. Something didn't feel right, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was, since he was, unsurprisingly, tied up again.

Minutes passed until he heard footsteps outside. The door clicked open and Vince stepped inside.

"Oh, good morning, Rody."

"...what did you do to me last night?"

"Nothing to be too concerned of. I've got everything planned out already."

"What's THAT supposed to mean?"

"Look down and see for yourself."

He did. And he saw why his right arm hurt so much now. It was entirely covered in bandages tainted red from blood. He could barely move it-- there seemed to be wounds all over his arm, as if a whole layer of skin had been peeled off.

Vince leaned against the door, his head tilted upwards, taking out a cigarette. He sighed. "As you can see you're missing some of your arm. It's in the freezer right now."

"I- Why? How do I do anything now?" said Rody exasparatedly. He was suprised at how much calmer his tone was. Sure, he was distressed as fuck, but it seemed that the whole shock of the incident was over. Now he was just anxious.

"Do anything?" said Vince, taking the cigarette inches away from his mouth and letting out a quiet laugh. "I don't think you'll be doing anything or going anywhere in the next few weeks, Rody."

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean. You're going to stay here from now on. It's kind of your problem for tasting good, you know."

"I can't believe you... I have my family, I have my friends, I have my own life, you can't just take away my entire future, c'mon, that's just totally fucked up."

"If your family and friends get in my way, then they're better off dead." Vince replied conclusively, he was obviously annoyed at the thought. Talk about possessiveness.

Rody was getting impatient. Clouds of smoke were already settling upon the room as he stared into Vince's dull eyes. "So do I just sit here and wait for my eventual death?"

"Mmm yeah, you finally get the point." Vince smiled mockingly.

"Oh c'mon! At least give me something to do? Now that my right arm can't function I can't even write, or eat, or... " He tried to use hand gestures but forgot he was tied up.

"Excuse me? Now that you live here, what will you need hands for? I could do anything for you. And stop exaggerating, you still have fingers and you're lucky enough to have them already. Remember who's stuck with who."

"..."

The room was starting to brighten up into a mauvish purple color as the typical 1960s sunlight came through the windows.

"Well," said Vince, trashing the cigarette, "I'll need to get to work soon, even though I haven't got a second of sleep last night." He walked over to untie Rody.

"Go take a shower, or... try your best to, I guess." he quietly smirked a bit, looking at Rody's arm. "See you at breakfast. Come downstairs." He left through the door.

It was pretty quiet for a second. Vince didn't seem like he was going to come back.

Rody's first immediate thought was to jump out of the window or something, but he couldn't open it no matter how hard he tried. Then he tried to find something around the room that would open it but it seemed that Vince had taken all metal or sharp objects away. Rody didn't really know what to do so he actually went to take a shower.

~~~~~~~~~~A/N~~~~~~~~~~

I'm planning to turn this into a slowburn. Enjoy ;))

really felt this comment 😫👇