||Vincent Sinclair x Reader|| House of Wax

Part 12 |The Basement|

"What did I say, huh!" He yelled, picking Carly up and slinging her over his shoulder. He roughly grabbed my face with his one free hand, "What did I fucking say?!" If he wasn't angry before, he was now.

TW: well... it's the gas station bit with Bo so- yeah

He let go let go of my face, opting to grab my wrist instead.

He brought us to the gas station for whatever reason. Carly kicked and screamed the whole way, whereas I just cried, letting the tears slip silently, down my face. Though my expression showed no emotion whatsoever.

Inside, he walked over to an old shelf. He tossed me forward, and I stumbled to the ground, slamming my knees painfully against the concrete floor.

He flicked on the radio, blasting Dried Up, Tied and Dead to the World by Marilyn Manson to Carly's sobs.

Bo grasped my wrist again, bringing Carly and I down into the basement.

The true horror set in when we saw the room he brought us to. He entered the desolate room, throwing me onto the dirty old mattress and closing the door behind him.

He looked at me, a murderous gleam in his eyes. I shuffled into the corner, fearfully trying to push myself away from him as much as humanly possible.

"Stay right there," his voice was cold and harsh. I didn't say anything, looking at the floor in front of him because I couldn't bare to look up at Carly flailing in his arms.

I glanced up when he brought Carly to the other side of the room. I watched as he threw her down in a rickety metal medical chair. She struggled against him, but it was no use, he was clearly much stronger than the both of us combined. All I could do was watch as he strapped her down.

Carly begged for him to stop as he duct taped around the straps for extra security, after which he bound her legs together.

For whatever reason she stopped struggling. I could see she was looking at something, but I couldn't tell what.

As he finished, we all heard a voice from outside.

"Hello?" The voice called. It was unmistakably Dalton.

Carly attempted to get his attention, but Bo was ready. He pressed his hand over her mouth, only muffling her screams until he picked up a knife.

He pressed it to her throat, instantly quieting her down. He whispered something to Carly, but I couldn't hear it over the music. I could only assume it was obscene.

That's when he looked up at me, staring daggers. I knew what he wanted to say, he wanted to say some shit about me not moving or saying anything, or he would slice Carly's throat open. I covered my mouth with my own hand, forcing myself to hold down any sounds that threatened to come out.

Bo then looked up at the grate above him, which must've lead outside.

A couple minutes later, Bo let go of Carly's mouth, but was still holding that knife to her throat.

From the table to his right, he picked up a little bottle, twisting the cap off with his teeth. He brought the bottle to her lips, "don't move," he practically growled.