The Truth About Yuuri Katsuki

Zwanzig

The room around him was cold. He could feel the coldness in the air and the musty atmosphere. He must be underground, there was no other explanation. This was the same room that he'd been well acquainted with in the past too. This was the basement of his parent's house. He was back home. He was miserable. Otabek wanted nothing more than to leave this place. He felt like a child again. The world was punishing him for reasons unknown. Why was he here? He thought he'd been set free.

He was wrong.

He was so terribly wrong.

Otabek's eyes were well adjusted to the darkness by this point. His arms were tied behind his back and his legs were tied individually to each leg of the chair that he was currently sitting on. Another rope was tied around his body to keep him in the seated position. Otabek was slightly grateful for the fact that he wasn't blindfolded. At least he could somewhat see what was going to happen to him whilst he was stuck here. He could see the shapes and the shadows and the various objects around him. This provided at least a slight amount of comfort knowing that it wasn't left to his horrible imagination.

"It's really nice to see you again, son," his father's voice whispered into his ear. Otabek flinched. He didn't realize that another person was in this room with him. This wasn't the usual stuck-in-the-closet fiasco that Otabek was used to. He'd been in the basement before, but each occurrence was different from the last so Otabek had no idea what to expect. He didn't like not knowing what was going to happen. That only provided him with food for anxious imaginings. Which, well, was exactly what his parents wanted.

His father moved to stand before him. The smile on his face was incredibly fake. Otabek never had a father worth calling a father. He never had a mother worth calling a mother. He hated them both but he wouldn't be free of them. His father smiled and continued to say the most hollow of things. He said how much he 'missed' Otabek or how much he 'longed' to see him. Everything was incredibly flat.

Otabek felt hands wrap around his neck. His father's face contorted into a vicious demon. His eyes turned red and began to cry tears of blood that dripped down his face and onto Otabek's lap. His tongue escaped his mouth with a serpent-like length. This was no longer the person who was his 'father' in the past. This was a demon sent from the depths of hell to collect Otabek's soul. The nails dug deep into the sides of Otabek's neck causing him to bleed. He tried to break the handcuffs keeping him from struggling. This was the end. There was no saving him now. Otabek couldn't breath. He couldn't see properly. 

He was going to die.

Otabek jerked out of his seat, sweating, panting, gasping for air. Was it a dream? Was it a hallucination? Was it reality? Otabek couldn't tell the difference. How long had it been since he had water? Food? A will to live? Otabek just wanted to be free from all of this. He wanted it to end. He didn't dare close his eyes again for fear another nightmare would be awaiting him. What did he look like? Were there bags? How long had he been trapped here? Did his parents even enter the room once since he'd been left? What was real? What was fake? Questions like these and more filled his brain. There wasn't anything keeping him in check. He didn't know the difference between fiction and reality. 

"I'm surprised you didn't leave when you had the chance," his father stepped out of the shadows. Was this his real father? Was it another figment of his mind? Otabek wanted nothing more than to leave, but that was impossible. He couldn't escape. His hands were tied, quite literally.

"You actually kept talking to us even though I had told you with such certainty that I never wanted to see you again," his father walked towards him. Each small glimpse of light that rested on his face from the lantern he was holding danced in a crude fashion. Otabek couldn't see a human face. He could only see the outlines of what had been human in the past. Maybe his father was a changeling. Something this malicious couldn't have been born human. But humanity has always had darkness within.

His father threw the lantern at Otabek's feet. It wasn't anything more than a glass frame with a door to place a candle in the center. The fragile glass broke and the candle's flame inched up Otabek's leg. He wanted to scream from the heat of the ever-growing flame but the noise wouldn't escape his mouth. 

Cold water was thrown onto him. His eyes snapped open and he looked around frantically. Was it a dream? His clothing wasn't even singed. How much longer would he have to go through this? Otabek shivered. He was awake, cold, and still thinking up things that weren't real. Was this the true nature of torture? 

His eyelids felt heavy. His stomach was empty. He knew he hadn't eaten for at least two days now. Why didn't he have a snack before going to the grocery store? Oh, right, because he'd gone to the store in order to get food. Otabek was prone to forgetting he had to eat. He probably hadn't eaten anything that day after lunch at school. He could tell it had been over two days, vaguely, because the pain was familiar. Yuri, on the other hand, didn't seem to stop eating. Yuri was his reminder to eat.

Yuri.

What was he doing right now? Was he okay? He wasn't locked in a basement or anything, was he? In that moment Otabek heard a voice in the back of his head. He wasn't sure if it was himself, hoping that someone would save him, or the real Yuri. In any case, he heard a voice and that voice gave him a small glimmer of hope.

I'm on my way.