[Heyyyyy!!! Dw I did not leave you guys over here hanging. As promised, here is Scar's perspective of the events from the Used As Bait prompt. :)) Be prepared. There is NO happy.
CW? Yes:
- torture
- psychological abuse
- forced restraint
- heavy themes
- major character death(s)
- blood and injury
- technically child abuse
- sleep/sensory deprivation
Hope you enjoy!]
1 hour.
In that time, he'd been gagged, cuffed, and thrown into an empty white void of a room. He had tried to phase through the cuffs but something was stopping him from being able to use his abilities... probably something in the cuffs, now that he thought about it. The gag, he knew for sure, was there to stop him from using charmspeak. Not that Scar was in any right frame of mind to use it; he was still recovering from being abandoned by his only family, thank you very much.
5 hours.
At this point, he'd stopped shaking and his eyes had grown uncomfortably dry and completely devoid of tears. He'd given up trying to escape from his bonds, and all Scar could do now was sit uselessly with his legs sprawled out before him, staring at the white walls. He could not tell where one wall started and where one ended, and were he not sitting on the floor leaning back against concrete, he was certain it would've felt as if he were floating in a limitless expanse. The only other thing stopping him from going completely insane was the tireless ticking of the clock, that trilled every hour. It was the only thing that broke the monotony pressing down around him.
8 hours...
At some point, he found himself unable to bear the blankness of this cell, and so Scar shut eyes in hopes of some respite.
He only enjoyed the darkness for not more than a second, for a sudden sharp jolt of electricity ran through him and he jerked forward, eyes flying wide open, his breath hitching.
Oh, void.
They... they weren't trying to deprive him of sleep, were they?
Surely, surely, the others would come for him by then, right? Right?
12 hours...
It had been half a day.
No one had come... yet. He could wait. Grian cared about him.
Grian would come.
15 hours...
Someone was coming. He could hear the distinct sound of metal clanging and guessed it was the heavy doors he'd passed on his way hear opening and swinging shut. Then a part of the wall in front of him was being pushed open—that must be the door—and he could see four people standing in the entrance, light spilling around them.
His blood chilled when he saw who came stepping through that door.
Instantly, he straightened himself (as best he could) and held his head up a little higher (as best he could) and narrowed his eyes at Aqueas with what he hoped was an intimidating, hate-filled glare.
Don't let him know you're scared.
His eyes then fell on the hero who stood behind Aqueas, and the halo above their head and the white wings held behind them told Scar that this was none other than Divination. Next to Aqueas was a scientist or medic of some sort with curly ginger hair, wearing a white lab coat, and besides her stood the Whip.
Aqueas strode forward, followed by Divination. He knelt down just in front of Scar, before speaking. "All right, Vex," he spat, as if the name was something filthy he could not bear to keep in his mouth. "Fawn will take a look at your injuries. I would recommend not doing anything stupid." Vex glared at him, before leaning away from Fawn's approaching hands. "Keep still," Aqueas said sternly, and Scar noticed the hero's fists clenching and unclenching as if he were about to use his powers—and boy did that send a shiver down his spine. He forced himself to remain still, shuddering when he felt warm hands touch his cold skin.
