| Violet Feathers | Creeper x OC

Comfort

I do not own anything but my characters.

Quotes and meanings below.
"Speaking aloud"
'Speaking telepathically'
Subconscious thoughts, deep in the mind and cannot be heard by others at all.

Chapter 2: Comfort

By the time I grew tired, the trees had begun to change, telling me I have reached the southern US.

The temperature has also risen, giving my chilled skin a chance to stop shivering from my flight.

Spotting the sunlight peeking over the horizon, I land before a small shack. The small, wooden shack looks as though it may collapse if even a small wind happens to blow past. The shack is secluded, out in the middle of a woods next to an open area that may have held a house at one point in time.

Taking a hold of the doorknob, I slowly turn it and attempt to push the door open. The door doesn't budge, despite my effort. Sighing quietly, a deep violet fog seeps from my palm to coat the door. Using a bit of energy, the fog forces the door open, ripping up some overgrown vegetation that must have been keeping the door shut.

The fog disperses, my violet irises provide me with perfect night vision, allowing me to see the entirety within the small shack.

The shack looks to have been an old storage garage, all the tools and shelves remain rusted and weathered. An old lawn trimmer, along with a few rusty, degrading car parts remain scattered along the old flooring.

Using my energy again, I move all the scattered parts onto one side of the shack, allowing me to have a small spot to sleep for the day.

Walking into the shack, the wooden flooring creaks along with each placement of my feet, plenty of vegetation has grown through the wood over the years. Shoving the door shut, I finally lay down on the dirty wooden floor.

Feeling uncomfortable, I sit up and move one of my wings beneath me, lying down upon my feathers rather than the hard flooring. Pulling my other wing up, I curl up and lie my left wing down on top of me, keeping me decently warm.

.

Opening my eyes, I immediately shoot up into a sitting position. Discovering my surroundings have changed, I am back in my bloody, hellish cell once again.

Panicking, I begin to scream at the top of my lungs, crawling backward to slam my back against one of the padded walls, the floor and walls all covered in blood from my feedings.

All that is inside the cell is a bucket, a blanket, and myself. That is all it has ever been. I begin to sob while screaming, feeling the world collapse around me.

"Oh, now Vivica. You're much stronger than this. Why don't you ever talk to anyone? You know I'm here for you." My captor taunts me from the speakers hidden around the room.

My captor appears before me, standing in the center of the room. Standing at the height of 6'2", he towers over my cowering form. His long black hair drapes over his shoulders, wearing a black formal tux. The man looks to be around his 30s, his face alone brings back horrible memories of what he has done to me.

Unable to do anything to defend myself, I crawl into a corner and begin hyperventilating, knowing why he has come to me.

He walks over to me before grabbing onto my wrist and yanking me out from the corner, making me scream out in terror, knowing there is nothing I can do to stop him.

He forces himself upon me, invading my body as he has done countless times in the past.

"You tried to run from me, look what good that did you." He grins maliciously, treating my body as if it were a doll beneath him.