Days Without Sun

Rules

At some point, after Misaki regained the use of his limbs, food came.

There was a knock and a young voice called a word first, in what Misaki figured was Portuguese. He so wished he had a better head for language. Then he heard the light voice say in heavily accented English, "breakfast." Misaki shot up from his bunk as a beam of light pierced his cell. A tray was pushed through an opening near the bottom of the door.

It was amazing how frightening it was to eat something when you couldn't see it and had no idea what it was you were being served. It was hard too, to eat with bound hands and no utensils. Misaki found he couldn't do it, despite his hunger, and pushed the tray to the side.

After this first meal had been given, Misaki camped himself out by the door and waited the interminable length of time it took for the next meal to come round. As he sat there naked and shivering, he muttered softly to himself, practicing in his broken English what he would say. Misaki shook partly because the dark cell was cool, but he also tremored at the idea, that if what Korovin had said was true, somewhere the man could be watching him.

The next time that the port for the food opened, Misaki darted his hand through the slot and grabbed the wrist of whomever it was that was feeding him. "Please, help me!" Misaki choked, his English raw with all the tears he'd been swallowing. However, no sooner had he said this, than he gasped and dropped the hand which retreated immediately.

Misaki's heart pounded with the horror of what he had just seen in the dim light cast through the portal. The hand had been young and only slightly smaller than his, but it had been missing two fingers and the back of the hand as far up the forearm as he could see had been covered with a maze-work of scabs and scars.

How much time passed after this encounter with the hand until Misaki suddenly heard Korovin's voice in his cell, he didn't know. Time didn't seem to exist in the dark. "Takahashi, close your eyes," Korovin directed.

This time Misaki obeyed immediately.

Again the bright light filled his cell; the glow of it flooded his eyes with warm color behind his closed lids. Within moments of hearing the door scrape open, however, this was lost as the blindfold was replaced over his eyes. He felt strong hands grab his own still-bound ones by the tie and haul him up from where he was crouched on the floor.

He was roughly dragged from his cell, almost half-carried. His bare feet were abraded as he was pulled along the hard concrete floor. When he resisted this forced movement strong hands pushed him down and he crashed to the ground.

He heard the sound of a buckle jingle and leather hiss as it slid through belt loops (these were noises he could easily identify after having lived with his dear horny rabbit for so long). The sounds panicked him and he tried to struggle up, only to feel a heavy booted foot on his hip, forcing him back to the ground. Misaki cried out when the crisp leather suddenly kissed his low back with a sharp snap!

"I suggest you behave."

His captor's cold voice cut Misaki almost as sharply as the strap had. After this, Misaki allowed himself to be picked up and more or less carried to wherever it was he was being taken to.

He panicked again, however, when he felt himself hauled into another room and his slender frame was forced up onto a hard, long, flat surface. A strap was quickly fastened around his narrow, naked hips and his bound hands pulled up over his head and fastened there by a metal clip.

Misaki kicked out as a hand large encircled his ankle. This action was immediately reciprocated with a blow to his stomach that left him curling into himself as much as his confinement would allow.