kat girl | k. bakugou | 18+

Chappy 31

I huddled in the corner of the cold, damp cell, my knees pulled tightly to my chest as I tried to make myself as small as possible. The dim light overhead flickered sporadically, casting erratic shadows on the rough stone walls. My arm throbbed painfully, hastily wrapped in a bandage that was already beginning to stain through with blood. The collar around my neck was heavy, cold, a constant reminder that my quirk was useless here, snuffed out like a flame under glass.

A deep, crushing despair settled over me, weighing down my chest until it was hard to breathe. 'I'm going to die here,' the thought echoed through my mind, each repetition hammering the reality of my situation deeper into my bones. Silent tears slid down my cheeks, leaving cold, wet tracks against my skin.

I tried to blink them away, focusing instead on the ragged breathing that filled the silence. But the thoughts wouldn't stop, wouldn't relent, circling around and around in my head until I felt like I might scream.

Suddenly, the heavy metal door creaked open, the harsh sound breaking through my despair like a gunshot. My head jerked up, and my body tensed instinctively, shrinking back further into the corner. I didn't have to see his face to know who it was. The air in the cell seemed to drop several degrees as Dabi stepped inside, his presence oppressive, suffocating.

"Hey, gorgeous," he drawled, his voice dripping with a sickening mix of amusement and menace as he sauntered towards me. His pale eyes gleamed in the dim light, the sight sending a shiver down my spine.

I turned my head away, refusing to acknowledge him, every muscle in my body taut with tension. My jaw clenched as I tried to ignore the gnawing fear creeping up my throat. Dabi wasn't someone you could ignore, though. He thrived on getting a reaction, feeding off fear like a predator toying with its prey.

He knelt down in front of me, his movements slow and deliberate, like a lion stalking its cornered meal. I could feel his gaze burning into me, could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again.

"Don't be like that," he murmured, reaching out to forcefully grab my chin. His fingers were cold, the skin rough where the staples lined his knuckles. He tilted my head up, his grip firm and unyielding, forcing me to look at him.

His face was inches from mine, and I could see every detail—the staples, the burned and scarred skin, the cold, dead eyes that held nothing but malice. My heart pounded in my chest, but I held his gaze, refusing to let him see how terrified I was.

"There we go," Dabi said, his voice a low, mocking purr. "Now, isn't that better? No need to be so shy."

I glared at him, my teeth clenched so tightly I thought they might crack. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to fight back, but I was helpless, trapped in this cell with no way out and no quirk to defend myself.

Dabi's smile widened, clearly enjoying the defiance he saw in my eyes. "You've got spirit, I'll give you that," he said, his grip on my chin tightening painfully. "But that's not going to help you here."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my face as he continued, his voice dropping to a whisper. "You belong to us now, and you're going to do exactly what we say. You don't have a choice."

My breath hitched, and I could feel my resolve crumbling under the weight of his words. The truth of my situation was inescapable, and the fear I'd been trying to hold back began to rise, choking me.

Dabi must have seen the change in my expression because he let out a low chuckle, clearly satisfied with the effect he was having. He released my chin, but not before giving it a rough, almost playful squeeze.

"Good girl," he murmured, standing up to his full height. "Now, let's get you cleaned up. Can't have you bleeding all over the place, now can we?"

He gestured to the door, and I noticed for the first time that two other figures had entered the room—henchmen, no doubt, standing silently in the background, waiting for orders.