•~𝕎𝔸ℝ𝕄𝕋ℍ~• (𝓚𝔂𝓵𝓮 '𝓖𝓪𝔃' 𝓖𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓬𝓴 𝔁 𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓝𝓮𝓾𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓵 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻)

•ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝕆𝕟𝕖•

⚠️BLOOD, VIOLENCE, GUN VIOLENCE, DEATH⚠️
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It had been only hours since Marcelo had sent the video of Y/n being tortured and beaten. Once it was over and done with, the phone was crushed and smashed into nothing.

And Y/n was left alone, tied up, and in pain.

Their back ached from being forced to sit down for so long, their wrists and legs being burned by the rope every time they moved. The blood dripping from their head and nose onto their already bloodied clothes.

The moment the video was stopped, Marcelo immediately demanded his henchmen to 'patch'
Y/n's leg up. In other words prevent it from bleeding out, but not exactly stitching it up after being stabbed. Ever since then, Marcelo had left, and hadn't been back.

Every so often henchmen would come in, checking the ropes and wounds. Spitting out insults, and slapping Y/n hard to make sure they were alive. Then would leave again.

It was starting to get stuffy in the room. Y/n felt so confined, and couldn't breathe through their broken nose. If they didn't get out now, they knew that they won't make it and surely be killed one way or another. Whether or not their father, or even Gaz, was coming for them.

They couldn't sit any longer like some damsel in distress.

With a hiss of pain, Y/n lifted up their head, before biting their lip to stile the sounds that were about to leave their mouth. Wriggling their hands, Y/n managed to grab their left wrist with their right hand, before pulling it harshly.

A short cry left Y/n's mouth, before they bit harder into their bottom lip. Blood seeping into their mouth, the metallic taste almost making the gag. Once more, Y/n tugged on it again, and again...and again...

Before their wrist had popped out of place, dislocating it successfully. Y/n let out a gasp of breathe, taking a moment to let the pain subside, before slithering their left hand out slowly from the ropes. Then, moving their right over to their face, untying the ropes with their teeth.

Looking over, Y/n winces at the discoloration of their wrist. Turning an ugly purple as it hung limply. Without wasting any time, Y/n bit into the rope, before snapping their wrist back in place with muffled cry.

"God Damnit....!" They whispered harshly, undoing their ropes at their feet. They stood up with ropes, their leg aching in agony as they limped behind the door. If their timing was right, within the next second, someone is gonna walk in to check on them. They do so every 30 minutes that pass, and Y/n had been smart enough to count every minute three times to make sure.

Sure enough, the door knob rattled with keys, and a man walked into the room. Upon noticing that Y/n was no longer in the chair, he immediately pulled out a walkie to inform everyone.

Yet as he brought the device to his lips, Y/n had wrapped the rope against his neck, pulling him back. Choking him.

"What the fuck!-"

"Shhh..." Y/n said, face dead with no emotion as they covered the man's mouth, bringing him to the ground as he began slowing his kicking and flailing. His body twitching before stopping completely, "Nighty Night Mother fucker..."

Y/n dropped the rope, the stealing the gun from the man's side, as well as the ammunition. Clicking it, making sure it was full of ammo, before limping out the door. Locking it from behind them with the keys.

'I need to find a way out of here...' Y/n thought as they cautiously looked around the corner and avoiding the cameras, seeing it clear they moved down the hall. Until two voices were heard approaching.