Rapture

3

A brilliant light snarled at the barrier my eyelids had created in my unconsciousness, my head throbbing from the sudden ringing in my ears as I drifted back towards reality. The time I was out seemed like nothing, and I quickly found myself pleading for its return. I didn't need to face the fact that the last thing I remembered was my phone cracking to bits as it hit the hard pavement of the sidewalk and rolled onto the street. I couldn't help feeling bad about losing that bit of junk, I'd had it since the 7th grade.

Maybe I hit my head, and someone took me to the hospital?

My eyes creaked open, revealing just how blinding that light was, and I groaned in annoyance. I could feel pins and needles at the tips of my fingers and toes, bringing both to curl and flex out, until I tried to move my hand up to cover the light. The only reaction I got was cold metal restricting any further movement, and then I tried again.

And again, and again, and again.

By the time I was thrashing about, a low chuckle cut off the eerie ring, and I stopped. My vision would adjust soon enough, and right now I was obviously in trouble.

"I'm assuming the questioning begins now?" That same voice drawled, and I grumbled in disust. I wanted to see my captor-- or captors, if there were any creeps hovering about in silence. I needed to know which asshole I let get to close to me, and how to blame myself accordingly if I don't get out to see my grams.

"Or you could just turn off that damn light," I tried as furiously as possible to sound pissed off, but my voice was only a small whimper. And the 'please' added a few moments after that phrase had it sounding horribly worse.

I got a scoff in response, but the light did vanish.

Now successfully blinking past all of the blurs in my sight, I could focus more on how familiar that voice had sounded to me. It wasn't a definite feeling, rather one that pricked at my heartstrings with long, claws supplying as fingernails. Just sharp enough to snap a string if desired, but teased at it to wear it out first.

And when I could finally see, I couldn't really say I wasn't surprised.

I could recognize the slieu of art on his paled arm from a 50 story building. It'd left that much of a mark on me, and I wasn't sure whether to be thankful or pissed off that it had. He looked at me with a burning gaze, one that looked past the shallow pools of blue in my eyes and could see just how much of a coward I was. I squirmed uncomfortably in my chair, chewing on my bottom lip to try and distract me from tears.

"I truly don't understand how such a heroic bastard could come to love such a pathetic whelp," he commented, leering at me as he said so. I only looked away, the shock of his words beginning to slowly string apart every last bit of a facade I'd be able to hold. It's not like I didn't expect those words from people, but no one had actually told me such to my face... Yet there a sole thing bugging me more.

"I truly don't understand how anyone could come to love such a pathetic whelp," I muttered in agreement, yet my voice always seemed just high enough for him to hear.

Click!

The cold metal that once suffocated my wrists vanished, to which I jumped in fright. I knew there was someone else in on this!

But turning around... No one was there.

And I didn't really get an answer about it, because the slam of the door overtook my weak voice inquiring as to just how he'd done that.

I sighed, rubbing my hand over my wrists to soothe the slight throbbing in them, before continuing to untie my feet from the chair I was seated in. I then stood up and took a look around, and I was a bit more surprised to see how well my accomodations were.