Story Excerpts

Mason, excerpt 1

CW: Blood/gore, abuse
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He would have preferred the belt any day. Of course, he would never admit that, not when it could so easily be used against him. At least the belt was predictable, consistent. Being locked in a small space in a dark room? Anything could happen. There was no concept of time, no way of judging how long he had been down there.
What did he do to deserve this? As usual, he had no clue. Just like last time, he was randomly yanked down there, his father screaming his head off. He hadn't bothered to pay attention to a word, he would find something else to scream about in ten minutes regardless.
It also seemed that he was not allowed to ever enjoy his food. All he wanted was tomato soup and a little bit of time to read a book. Realistically, that's probably why his father was angry. Heaven forbid he take a can of soup and fifteen goddamn minutes to himself, right?
Mason was so caught up drowning his fear in bitter thoughts, he almost missed the faint /click, creak, click/ not far from where he was trapped. Almost, but not quite.
Immediately, he drained his head in order to focus on the sound better. It seemed to be maybe 25 to 30 feet to his left. Of course, it could have been much closer or much farther, but in the dark it was hard to tell.
/Click, click, creeeeak./
Oh god, was it getting closer? Was it even real? He couldn't tell, and his panic was rising.
/It's fine Mason, it's fine. You're hearing things. It an old house, right? You're hearing someone moving upstairs! Yeah, that's it.../

(Little snake, little snake, what treat have you brought for me this evening?)

That was definitely not someone upstairs. Floorboards don't speak!
"We haven't brought you anything, please go away." Mason whispered, straining his eyes to try and see what was speaking. "No treats here." His own voice sounded thunderous in his ears, echoing off the walls.

(Hush now, rabbit. You hush.)

Every instinct in Mason's body were screaming, begging him to run, but after only a moment if thrashing against the metal bars, he went still again.
"Please. Please, leave me alone." His panic was creeping up his throat. He was going to be sick with it.
/Click, click, creeeeak. Click. Click.../
Whatever it was stopped right next to him, and he closed his eyes. Whatever this thing was, he didn't want to see it anymore.

(Now rabbit, why do you hide those pretty red eyes of yours? You know, I do find them...delightful. What if I just...took one, hmm?)

That wretched voice. It raked claws down his eardrums, his spine, making him quake.
"Please, have mercy. Please let me be."

(You're ruining the fun, rabbit. I'll only take one.)

Something cold and damp ran across his jawline, up his cheek, and brushed under his left eye. This couldn't be happening. He had to be dreaming, or hallucinating, or-

Unfiltered agony cut out every thought he had, and a scream ripped from his lips. In seconds, his cheek was wet with blood, the metallic scent burning his nostrils. His vision went red, screams jumping from wall to wall, head throbbing. Some sort of twisted laugh hopped around next to his cries of pain. He couldn't think, he couldn't breathe, all he knew was there was some hellsent suffering ripping his skull to pieces.

(I have to admit, I'm usually a bit cleaner than that. I guess I was just so /thrilled/ to add this shade of crimson to my collection.)

The unseen beast purred, but he could barely hear the taunts over the ringing in his ears. The pain, the feeling of having his own eye torn from his skull, it was too much. He couldn't breathe, and even as he recognized bile rising in his throat, his mind was getting fuzzy at the edges.

(Goodnight, dear rabbit. I'll see you again soon.)

He barely caught the words as he slipped into oblivion.

Image: Appearance reference for Mason, older design but only noticeable differences are hair color (which he has dyed silver), glasses, and lip/ear piercings