~Demonstuck~ {On Hiatus}

Pain and rude introductions

Dave stared down at the unconscious lad that lay at his feet, now tied up and unconscious. He'd laced his weapon in a powerful drug which would cause the creature to become drowsy and that had aided in bringing it down as quickly as he did. Now, for the part that Dave couldn't seem to do. He slipped out a small silver pistol which had been hiding comfortably in his back pocket loaded with a bullet, hesitantly cocking it. The barrel was pointed for his head, hovering just above his forehead, the gun shaking slightly. John's face was so peaceful. His black locks swept over his eyes, his pale cheeks flecked with blood which contrasted. His overbite which was now absent, replaced with pearly white fangs that protruded at his bottom lip. He still held his bright baby blue eyes which Dave had loved staring into once-upon-a-time, when the two had once enjoyed each other's company as more than friends.

But that had been before the Demon attack.

Swallowing thickly, Dave cleared his throat and strongly raised his gun again, which had seemed to begin dropping as he had paid attention to his facial features. His finger slipped over the trigger, gently applying pressure. His gaze wandered down to his face again, his eyes narrowing. He applied more pressure. And threw the gun at the ground, practically hissing in annoyance. "God fucking damnit!" He cursed, firing a kick into Johns' stomach. He couldn't kill him again. Not again. He swooped down and roughly grasped the back of his collar, not giving him the decency of being carried as he dragged the limp body across the forest floor, the only sound being the scattering and ruffling of leaves as the curled up figure was nonchalantly dragged along.

John woke up, his bodice slumped and his back arched, his head low. His eyes widened and he immediately reared his head back, causing him to slam it against the cold metal bar. A low groan escaped the back of his throat, and due to the muffled noise he then realised a cloth was wrapped around his jaw, gagging him tightly. He yanked his body forward, finding his wrists tied against each other behind the pole, his feet as well. He repeated this action a few times before he let out another muffled bark of a growl and pushed himself back, frustrated. He hissed and allowed his teeth to grow in length, piercing the fabric. He threw his head about, growling as he tried to get his mouth free. It tore slightly and with an awkward head roll he managed to tug it down to slip against his throat. He immediately let out a puff of breath, moving his jaw and licking his lips. His gaze shifted aside, and he began to look about, blinking as he looked around.

His gaze trailed down to his body as he stared at the grizzly sight that was his torso. The White t-shirt was dried red, the blood crumbling off with each movement, if you could even call the tattered pieces of fabric an item of clothing. His skin however was much better. The flesh had healed to a thin slit, which was still open but not as deep as it once was. But the fact the wound was still there and not scarred skin lead him to believe his sword had been laced in something to postpone his self regeneration powers. Bastard.

What surprised him the most was the setting. He was in a completely normal looking bedroom. Mostly consisting of black and white items splashed with red here and there, the room was fairly bare but messy all at once. A king-sized bed was placed in the middle, adjacent to it being a set of what looked like a mixing desk and a few other mundane things like a wardrobe and a drawer. John blinked owlishly at the area, a frown appearing on his face. He was tied against a bare wall on the far side, to keep him away from objects that could help him escape.

Before he could analyse the situation further the door swung open. A tall blonde teen sauntered in, a red hoodie slung over his shoulders and black jeans on his legs. He seemed to not acknowledge the tied up raven hair and flopped onto the large bed with a loud grunt.

He waited a while, and once he found he wasn't paying attention John would pout, his eyebrows furrowing. "Hey! Captive being ignored!" He'd call out, rattling the chains that tied him against the pole to gain the stoic teens' attention. Though this action was all in vain, as the figure remained slumped over the bed. "Wow, rude" he scoffed softly, his gaze examining him for any kind of reaction. None. Wow. He turned his head aside to examine the room in further detail out of boredom, and he did this for ten minutes or so before the other creature aroused from its rest and rolled over, facing him.

Now he recognised him as the Strider Hunter.

And with a sick feeling he realised he'd been caught.

The other must've picked up on his discomfort, for a smug smirk tugged at his lips. "Hey, hellspawn. Glad to see you're up and at 'em." He'd tease, his voice a soft murmur and his vocals laced with a thick southern drawl. His skin was a pale soft colour, sprinkled heavily with freckles and he wore a pair of round aviators that perched upon his small nose. His attire was baggy and hung off his shoulders like it was a couple sizes too big, and it had him questioning if they were even his.

"Nice of you to notice me. You know when you invite your friends round you should perhaps avoid the whole tying up thing, rather rude, if you ask me" John would murmur softly in reply, his Icey blue gaze locked firmly on the teen.

The Strider merely let out a soft 'hmf' in thought, examining the demon before a noise interrupted the two. A soft constant buzzing began to erupt from the others pocket. He slipped his phone out and stared at it before clicking a button and brining it up to his phone. "Y'ello?" He began down the phone, beginning to get into a conversation. John couldn't hear the voice from where he was, so he couldn't distinguish it's gender or who they might be. The conversation consisted of weird talk which didn't make any form of sense, but it ended quickly.

The blond quickly shut his phone and slung himself onto his feet, straightening his posture as a yawn escaped his mouth. He turned his head so he was facing John and then quickly disappeared, gathering a few things. He returned and walked over to the demon.

The first thing he whipped out was salt, which he surrounded John in. The second was a book, and he began reciting some words in a language which John recognised as aged Latin and such. John knew the spell all too well as one which would keep him trapped for a few hours until he got out. The next item was a pair of thicker, heavy chains that would practically pin him. He replaced the old ones with these, and God John didn't know he was this desperate to keep him contained. And the last was a bottle of holy water.

John eyed Dave suspiciously. The holy water on its own burnt and stung his skin like hell, but if it got into his cuts it would once more prolong the healing due to how it would practically eat at his flesh. He tried to shift himself, back, his eyes widened slightly.

"What are you doing?" John tried to ask calmly, though an obvious spike of concern was in his voice. Dave leaned over, the open bottle now hovering above his bare flesh and main gashes. John's eyes fully widened and he began pathetically writhing, shouting curses in another language at Dave, warning him not to.

Dave poured the bottle.

A screech like hiss escaped John, the creature letting out Inhumane screams and cries. A sizzling could be heard as the water hit his skin and sloshed about in his open cuts, the water turning red as it began burning through his healing flesh. The water that hit his skin turned to steam on impact, the skin beginning to turn red and blister in agitation, something that'd heal within hours but stung like hell while it was around. "Fuckin' fuck fuck- DAMN YOU, STRIDER!" He'd cry, his teeth bared as he writhed around pitifully, hissing and cringing.

The young human, stoic as ever, merely stood up and dropped the bottle to the floor, turning in his heels and pacing out of the room. "Try not to hurt yourself" he'd call, and the smirk could be heard in his voice as he prowled out of the room, locking the door.

The cries dimmed to hisses and whimpers as he writhed, bleeding out all over again on the floor. With nothing else to do, as the human would be back long before he'd be in any shape to begin breaking the shield that trapped him, the creature fell unconscious, slumped against the floor.

whoop not dead
Hope Ya liked this chapter, just a little somethin' for you guys. Apologies for the wait ily all <33