It was dark.
That was the first thing I noticed when my eyes fluttered open, coughing out a few hasty breaths. The second thing was the damp, armpit-reminiscent stench hanging in the air. Third was the shackles binding my ankles and wrists, suspending me in midair.
I swung my legs, bicycling wildly in a poorly thought-through escape plan. The heavy chains clattered against the cement floor of the haunting Scooby Doo dungeon, complete with what looked like blood, or maybe oil pastel, streaked across the ground.
I tried to survey my surroundings, discover a means of escaping. The room was empty. A slab of metal that was probably a door sat on the far wall, and a sliver of light sliced through the room. Gritting my teeth, I braced my feet against the wall and hoisted myself up by the chains holding me in the air, praying that doing pull-ups without a bar was like riding a bike. I got a few feet higher, close enough to squint through the hole in the ceiling from which light was pouring. No luck.
The door creaked open, and a man limped into the center of the room, the light barely illuminating the scars on his face. His mouth opened like it was on a hinge, like he was something far from human, and he began to laugh in a voice that was hollow and screeching.
"Trying that again, huh? Don't bother, you can't get out through the ceiling. The hole is only there so you can see my face."
"You're crazy," I breathed, my arms getting tired already. Letting myself drop back down, I tried to meet his wild eyes.
"I'm a genius," he corrected. "When they let me out of jail, I could've done anything. I could've tried to go back into society. But I was smart. I decided to make your life a living hell!"
His voice echoed through the chamber, bouncing off the weirdly greasy walls. I shuddered.
"And now your rescue team is on their way, and you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to torture them, one by one, right on this floor." He scraped his shoe against the cement, leaving a red mark. "Who should I attend to first? Your friend?" Scrape. "Your mentor?" Scrape. "Your partner?" Scrape. "The love of your life?" Scrape.
I bared my teeth, refusing to respond.
"I can't believe my revenge was this easy. Killing five birds with one stone is truly a feat of efficiency." The man's face split into a grin. "Don't forget my name. Don't forget the name of the man who ruined your life like you ruined his."
That's when I heard them; Shawn's voice, yelling "Juliet!" followed by Carlton's gruff "O'Hara!" and a few shouted promises that everything would be okay, courtesy of Gus and Chief Vick. The eyes of the creep before me glinted in the low light.
I let myself scream.
< a/n: it feels rather rushed, sorry about that. to be continued someday! fun fact: the picture is my first ever cover for this story, back when I posted it on instagram!!! rare >
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a thousand mistakes // psych
Fanfictionwhen a series of tiny mistakes lead to shawn spencer's worst nightmare, the joint forces of santa barbara and san francisco's finest must try to pick up the pieces - or else. (takes place after the last episode of psych)