A Dicey Toy {King Dice x Reader}

Chapter 2

I coughed up blood as Dicey walked me back to my cell, well dragged me by the leg, but it was nice of him to go with me still. He dragged me to the middle and stood over me, his jacket in his arm. "That was a fun few hours. Don't you think?" he asked. I just looked at the ceiling, "When you wake you'll be fully healed, and in prime condition for tomorrow." he said leaving. I just stared at him as he left, locking the door and placing a little crown made of paper on the cell's lock. A calling card maybe?

I looked back to the ceiling and layed there for a minute. I was completely numb, even breathing was taxing on my body. I pulled myself up onto the bed and looked at the floor. "Geez kiddo. Dice did a number on ya, as expected." a familiar voice spoke. It was Mr.Wheezy. My friend's sister's boyfriend's ex's uncle twice removed third cousin. I mostly knew him because he brought me food, all that was a coincidence. I nodded and looked up at him. He had a cart with a tray of potato skins that the tipsy troop messed up. They looked kinda burnt but it was better than nothing. He slid the paper plate over to me and left, as not to be seen. I stared at the food and closed my eyes. Hunger was not my priority at the moment. I just tried to focus on sleep.

I woke up and just like what Dice said, i was fully healed. I looked at the plate and surely, there was Dice standing over it. "Wheezy, huh? Well," he stomped on the food. "He'll be cleaning bathrooms. Stand up, lets go." he said, adjusting his bow. I stood and stumbled a little, having just woken up. I fell into him, landing face first into his chest. I grunted and pushed myself off him. I rubbed my face and looked at him, he looked off put. "Lets go."

I walked behind him for a moment, then looked behind me when i heard loud thumping down the hall. "Furry satan is on his way. Maybe he needs his dick sucked my a certain cube boy." I teased. But it wasn't him, but a stampede of imps pushing a new soul into a cell. I looked at dice and in that split second and i was pinned to the wall, dangling by my throat and dice had a look of pure anger on his face. I grabbed his hand and tried to tug it away.

"Watch your tongue before i cut out your voice box and relocate it." he snarled. I rolled my eyes as i continued to get down. I watched him take off the glove on his free hand and he punched me, sending the back of my head into the brick, and my nose to be dislocated. I felt my nose bleed and my bottom lip had a searing pain. He then proceeded to drop me and deliver a series of kicks to my stomach repeatedly.

"Don't- mess- with- me." he said, pulling me up by my hair. I looked at him, beaten. I gave him a deer in the headlights look and laughed. I smirked and he proceeded to drag me back to the room we were in yesterday. He had his panties in a twist. This could get bad really quick. I was dropped to the ground. He had knocked the wind out of me, but i was able to stand, somewhat. I reached for the table and grabbed a knife. I pointed it at Dice.

"I'm not doing to let you do that shit to me again. Yes, i enjoyed it, but even i have limits. Beating the FUCK out of me, is a no; so it's your turn." i snarled. I walked forward, and pressed the knife to the back of his head, right in between the three dots on either side. He turned around with a dumb look on his face, like he was calling my bluff. I felt anger rush over me, i wanted to hurt him. I stared at him, and weighed my options. Fight him and hope i win, or drop the knife and take the loss. I stared at him for another minute i went to swing the knife, only for my hand to be caught by his ungloved, (rather large actually) hand. He yanked me close to where we were chest to chest.

"I don't appreciate you trying to turn the tables. I'd cut of your hands if i were in a worse mood." he leaned his face closer, his voice calm, yet firm. His breath smelled of cigars and hard liquor. He took the knife out of my hand and looked at me.

"Sit." he commanded, and i did. He had never been so calm and stoic. Normally he was cheerful and charismatic, even when he was slicing me up. He undid his bowtie and threw it to the side with his jacket, which he had taken off during the endeavor. I looked at him. Something was obviously wrong.

"Wanna talk about it?" I asked. He gave me a confused look before sighing.

"No."

"You sure? I mean, who exactly can i talk to besides you down here. The Imps stopped even looking at me so." i said, as he strapped me down onto the chair again. He gave me another look and stood up and went to the table. He grabbed a screwdriver, and held it in front of my eye. "Hold it open."