Puppet on Strings {|} a DHMIS reader-insert

{|} Mission: Health-possible - Chapter 4 {|}

"... fuuuuuuuuck..." I mumble, eyes opening slowly. Oh, shit. "... Wait, fuck!" I shout, trying to rub my eyes. My arms are tied behind my back, and I'm in a dark room, with only a small light above me. I look around to see Harry tied up next to me. "Hey, angel. Mind looking up?" I hear Larry's voice. Sounds like he's bored and has a hangover. Lovely. I look up, seeing him hanging from the ceiling by a string of thick rope, and his arms are tied as well. "Hey, dreams man... you make a... a pretty good ceiling lamp..." I slur. God, my head hurts. Were the drinks drugged or something?

Larry audibly sighs as I lower my head again. Shuffles come from beside me, and Harry plus his chair jump forward. "Christ- oh. He's awake." The lamp above me snarks. "What?" It's the first time I've heard genuine emotion in his voice, so I'm kinda freaked now. Jeez. He's too concerned about being tied up in a dark room because somebody drugged us. "Uhhhh. I think som'n... p- put somethin' in the drinks..." I mumble, managing to look up. Harry looks my way. I can tell he's trying to keep himself under wraps, but the concern and fear is showing through. "Hahaha, nerd, you're shaaaaaaaking..." I cough, leaning forward. My vision starts to go all weird, all white for just a second.

"Oh, fuck." Larry curses. "Yo, Y/N, you holding up down there?" I'm in the middle of a coughing fit, dickface, how can I respond? "She is not. Obviously." Harry acknowledged, still trying to move his chair around and reeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaally not succeeding based on the noises. I squint to try and clear my vision, but end up seeing... something. For a split second, some kinda... well, it looked like me. But I was sorta. Wrong? I don't know how to explain it, just something about the eyes of what I saw for a split second. Black with white irises, kinda l-

Gumi. Bitch. She must have something to do with this. Little fucker always hated me. I groan as my vision comes back, dizzy as fuck. "God... damn it..." I didn't realize I had stopped breathing. Double fuck. "Are you alright?" Harry (actually) asks me, pretty much dropping the whole facade. I mean, I understand why, but good lord Har, you gotta do that more often. "Uhhhhhhhhh... I think..." The double doors in front of us swing open. "Oh, fuck. Shit. Fucking. Hell." I squirm in my chair, trying to move away. 

"There are children, Miss Y/N." A stern, male, voice says. I look up to see... oh, what the fuck? It's the Steve guy. The one who owns the restaurant. "What the hell do you want?" I sneer. Neither the lamp or Harry say anything. Smart. Not like I'm an idiot or anything, but I am. Steve shrugs. "Nothin' from you, hon. Sorry to have to... keep ya... like this, but we gotta have some advantage." He offers me a small smile. 

"We need some information." I hear another male voice. Someone I don't recognize, leaning on Steve, much shorter than him. lol midget- Oh, shut up, me! This is a serious situation! "What do you waaaaannnnnt thennnnnn? I dunno nothing. I'm literally a ceiling lamp right now, mans. This is the most out of my element I've ever fuckin' beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen." Larry rambles from above me, spinning around. He moved the rope too much. "And the flying spaghetti monster guy, don't eveEEEEEN-" His sentence cuts off with an animal sounding scream as a butcher's knife cuts the rope. Can- Candice? That's Candice. Candice is suddenly standing there in front of the lamp, leaning over him.

"Shut." is all she says. She looks at me and gives me an apologetic smile. I give her a thumbs up. Sorta. I do what I can... dice. I'm trying to make myself feel better right now, this isn't a good or fun situation. The short guy walks over, and picks up the rope still attached to Larry. He moves the lamp close, examining his every feature. He pulls a- why does he have pliers- pair of pliers off of his belt, and then snags one of the stars just under Larry's right eye, completely tearing it off. He freezes up. "oh, fuck, you guys are serious." The lamp yelps. "fuck. ow." Steve starts to say something, and then pauses for a moment. "Felix, don'tcha think that's a bit... uhm... extreme, hun?" The guy- Felix- doesn't look at him. "He needs to learn to shut up. I'm surprised he's this talkative, even though he isn't wasted."