Entreißen [PaperHat]

Grausame Master

[CW: Burning, Flashback, Murder, Gore, Non-Consensual Elements ]

"Disappointed?" Flug asks as Tšernobog moves away from the stove.

"Yes. Aren't kidnap victims supposed to at least cry?" He asks and approaches Flug. He takes the human's hands and guides him over to the stove. "No matter, perhaps you've cried when I haven't been around." He says.

The coils had turned red hot by now, and Flug could feel the heat radiating from them. Tšernobog tightened his grip on Flug's hand before raising it slowly. Almost instantly Fug realizes what he's about to do and struggles against him with a yell.

No matter how hard he fights against the man, he doesn't react and instead slowly lowers his arm towards the stove. He pauses when his arm was just an inch above the stove top. The heat was enough to hurt, and the anticipation of even more- worse- pain made Flug burst into tears. Maybe if he gave him what he wanted he would stop.

Tšernobog only grinned and pressed his skin down into the coils. Flug screams at both the unfathomable pain and the sound of sizzling. The sensation of his skin burning and the heat searing his skin brings him back to the plane crash.

The loud bang like a gunshot fills his ears and he can see the fire. Fire everywhere. It's hot, so uncomfortably hot. There's blood on his tongue and- oh god- his leg should not bend like that. Was that bone? Suddenly his flight jacket sleeve catches fire.

What snaps him back to the present is Tšernobog letting of his hand. He pulls his arm and stumbles back and hits the island in the middle of the room, gasping for breath and sobbing hysterically.

Through his tears, he tries to look at Tšernobog, who turns the stove off with a smile and a laugh. When he steps towards Flug, he scrambles backward, hitting his hip on the corner of the island and falls on the ground.

"Would you like me to kiss it better? Just a quick little suudella." He mocks, clasping his hands under his chin. Flug frantically shakes his head, cradling his arm to his chest and turning away from him choking on a sob. "Oh, whatever could I do to have you forgive my clumsiness?" He asks and makes his way towards the cowering human.

He grabs the arm covering the injured one and forces him to his feet. With a pitiful pule, he attempts to pull away but Tšernobog's grip is firm. He pulls Flug away from the fridge and opens the door. From the fridge, he pulls a small cantaloupe and hands it to Flug. With a small wave of his hand, he summons a plastic spoon and digs it into the rind.

"Let's get you back to your room," Tšernobog says and pats Flug on the back before grabbing his hair and walking him back to his room like a dog on a leash. Flug curls up on his shabby mattress as the door closes and the pins click into place. Pushing the cantaloupe to the side, he cradles his arm to his chest, careful to not let the burns touch anything.

He can still taste the blood on his tongue.

BlackHat met with Naxxremis early that morning. She stop wouldn't stop smirking at him as they made their way towards a separate restaurant. A Blemmyes takes their order soon after the two of them sit down, Nemesis stands behind their master's chair.

"I'm glad you're willing to come back to us." She says with a grin and taps her nails on the table. BlackHat wishes he could tear her nails from her fingers and shove them down her throat.