Candy | MouthWashing Game Curly X OC

𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴

Anya's face appeared but it wasn't the warm eyes and cheery voice he was used to. Her eyes were unblinking, blood down her nose to her chin, and her breathing was a sick gurgling noise.
Curly ran to help her...
He couldn't run. He looked down. His legs were gone. There was an axe and a cutting knife on the ground. Anya's presence felt cold, unreachable, evil. But desperate.

"I told you, captain."

He opens his mouth to say something but all that is left in his mouth is a disgusting aftertaste of pills and Jimmy's hand.
Her skin started to fade off her body like a mist, leaving a skeleton. Then that too started to blur away, leaving him alone in the dark.

"I told you, captain."

He remembered the smell of the room. Iron, sealing foam, a sick sweet tinge to it. It was supposed to help him recover but it screamed violation. Curly recalled the beatings he endured, the force of the pill being shoved so far down his throat, sometimes it would get stuck from the dry entry.
Each pill felt like a betrayal of his own body and his friend.

"Curly?"

He perked up. He must've dozed off outside. It wasn't Beatrice. It was her mother. "We'll be heading inside now, upstairs."
He didn't respond but just adjusted himself in the seat. He felt weird. Anxious. Stressed. Something was missing.
Curly felt himself being wheeled inside, the birds and talking becoming background noise. He slightly opened his lips then shut them slowly again. His mouth felt dry. He needed relief.
While at the hospital during his 'rescue', they realized he was basically addicted to the medication given to him from the ship and it took awhile for the withdrawals to subside but he still had some twitches and cravings for it.
He didn't even like the drug but the pain was relieving. Far more relieving than a walk outside.

"I like the outside... it was nice. Where's Beatrice?"

Curly tapped his limb on the chair's arm a few times in anxious waiting as he was in the elevator with his temporary caretaker. "Are you finding everything comfortable?" She asked. He huffed but nodded. He wished he could see.
He will soon.
Eventually the elevator stopped and he was wheeled out into the hallway for a short amount of time before taking a right into his room. "Do you need to use the bathroom or anything?" She asked. Curly hesitated.

"Humiliation."

He nodded.
She lifted him with a bit more ease than Bea. "Maybe Beatrice is short." He wondered. Now Curly was curious about his surroundings and caretakers.
"Anya was shorter than me." The pain in his heart throbbed.
After he was done using the toilet with assistance, she set him down on something soft, a couch.
"Bea will be back shortly to change your face bandage. The rest has to be changed next week by a nurse team," she explained. Curly nodded.
Maybe he'll be able to see her.
What she looks like. Maybe he'll ruin everything. She'll have a look of disgust on her face like how Jimmy did every time he looked down at him. Curly shivered.

He didn't like his brain. He didn't like how his thoughts would stray off. Curly sniffed. He didn't have his nose bridge, his lips had to be redone, he doesn't know how his eyelid works. He doesn't even have his other eye.

"She'll be right in."
And with that he was alone. Curly could tell the door was left open. He wondered when he'd be able to speak. He was instructed not to until his lips fully healed.
"Monster."
His thoughts were too loud. Too noisy. Distracting. Curly felt himself becoming restless. "Limbs hurt, need meds."
He squirmed. And wiggled. And scooched. He didn't realize he actually had wiggled to the edge of the couch.
Curly felt himself tip forward and instinctively he put his limbs out to catch himself, knowing it was about to be incredibly painful.

Soft hands catch under his arms and position him up right. That high voice spoke.
"Whoa! That was too close," she said. It was Beatrice. Her voice was high and sort of raspy on the end of her sentences. She sounded like something a bunny would.
Beatrice runs her hands over his shoulders gently.
"I'm going to change your bandage on your face, but let's take your meds first," she explained. He nodded.
Curly felt helpless and scared. Like his "manliness" was sucked away and he was clinging to someone. Beatrice.
He was clinging to the only thing taking care of him. He was lost and scared and couldn't even catch himself falling. This attachment could be unhealthy.
"I don't care. I want to feel okay."

"Open up," she whispered. He did so but still felt scared. To his surprise, it was a straw. He took it and sipped. He made a confused noise.
"This is going to help when I change the bandages," she explained, catching on quick to what he wanted to know. Curly felt elated and relieved he was able to communicate for the first time in months. She heard him.
Then she set the drink down and waited. He heard wrapping and crinkling of cellphone.
"I guess it's scary not seeing things," Beatrice said. He didn't respond or react.
"I saw too much."

She uncoiled the end of his bandage and he could feel the cool air hitting his face.
He was scared to see her.