Smiling Critters 2: The Story Continues.

Hostages and Sacrifices.

(🍎)

I heard the door close again.

They had given me a truce...

I lowered my head, and felt a gush of blood running down my nose. But it was so much, so much, that the blood flooded my mouth, so I had to spit it out.
All the blood ran down my face. The pain was so immense that it made my face and body in general numb.
My chest hurt. It was difficult for me to breathe. My joints ached from the restraints in the chair. I was always dizzy, with a headache, blurred vision, and a sour taste in my mouth.

They didn't feed me, but I wasn't hungry. I swallowed all the blood from the blows by accident. And then, the blows to the stomach and all the blood I swallowed made me vomit very frequently. I had a horrible sore throat, it was raw.

I think they wanted me to go back to being a brainless monster. But they are not going to achieve it.
I have hopes. I'm sure Bubba only had a passing anger with me, and they'll already be looking for me!
That thought keeps me alive and awake. And it makes me hold my head high sometimes.

But now I'm exhausted.
I would like to sleep, but I'm afraid to close my eyes. One day I may close them, and never open them again.
Furthermore, whenever I managed to sleep, they woke me up again for a round of torture.

From time to time, the torturers rotated. They were DangerDeer, HypnaHyena, GossipGoat and back to DangerDeer. BullyBull never came the time I was here.
The tortures were so creative that they were considered sadistic. Punches and kicks were never lacking. But they used other means, like sticking glass into my back, burning my skin with a red-hot iron, electrocuting me, hammering my hands until I stopped feeling them, sinking my face in freezing water...
I have bled, vomited, cried and screamed a lot. But it was no use screaming and crying. They couldn't hear me suffer if they were outside.

They did it for pure fun. Specially GossipGoat. She has an unjustified dislike for me.
Am I a torture toy for them?

What a question, of course I am.
They have me here for that. They don't seem to want anything else! They just want me to suffer.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Some hooves lifted my face, and the smell of pine tree put me on alert.
I was forced to see BullyBull's radiant, sadistic smile.

BullyBull: Picky, how are you?

PickyPiggy: Good.

BullyBull: Great, because I want to talk to you.

I looked down. He had a butcher knife in his hand. Big enough to take my head off with one blow.
He humbly sat on my knees, ignoring the fact that they hurt from the blows they gave me.

BullyBull: I wanted to ask you a question...do you know where your friends are now?

PickyPiggy: ...In Game Station?

BullyBull: No, dear. They have fled! I've been looking for them.

...Have they fled?
Without me?

PickyPiggy: ...Nah, impossible. It's not possible! What about me?

BullyBull: Well...it's sad to say...but they left you here to rot!

PickyPiggy: Liar! They are looking for me. Bubba wouldn't leave me here a second time.

He looked at me. And like a complete fool, he started laughing.
He laughed loudly, gasping between laughs.
I stayed looking at him. If only I could get him off my legs...but they are tied to the legs of the chair.