Love Is Strange 2p England x Reader

{4}

You heard the staircase creak, and footsteps clonk down.

"Now, Artie-my-boy, who in the world, were you talking to? Have you really gone mental? It's only been a few days after all." A voice said. You refused to believe it was him, the nice baker who had treated you so kindly, it couldn't possibly be Oliver. It couldn't.

"Well there isn't exactly any company, is there?" Arthur replied sharply.

"You make a compelling point there. If you keep doing it, you might start to see ghosts." He laughed. "So, my dear, how have you been?" You heard him pull up the chair.

Arthur groaned. "Stop the banter, my god. Give some damn answers! Why am I here?! Why can't I move?! Who are you even?!"

"Why I'm just Jolly Ole Ollie, the kind baker who rums this delightful bakery, and you, sir, just happen to be in the basement of it. I have a family, just like you, live in a house just like you, I have feelings just like you, and you know why?" He asked. "Because I am just like you. You can't be that thick, to not notice you are tied to a chair. I wanted a nice big brain, don't make me regret my decisions."

"Why am I tied to a chair, you fucking bastard?"

"Oh, please, love," Oliver said through his teeth, "there's no need for that language. I don't take many people here alive. You should feel lucky you get to see it with your own eyes, at least until I scoop them out. I just want a bit more time with my lovely, lovely (name). And this is one of the ways to achieve it. So, now you get to sit through what I feel like I see you, a snobby little boy who curses like a sailor, with her." He sneered. "You are nowhere close to deserving her."

"You know, you aren't going to keep me here forever." Arthur sneered. "People have probably noticed I'm gone, and once they figure out I'm stuck here with... With Hannibal Lector and the Joker's pastel lovechild, they'll call the cops. Yeah, they'll get you."

You heard the chair being pushed back. "No they won't." Oliver said in a singsong voice. "No one's figured me out yet, oh, knock on wood." He added.

God, he was an absolute mad man. What would he do? You decided to peek out, to see what was happening. But oh dear, Arthur was a dead man. Not literally, though. Not yet.

There was a dim light was on now, and you could see the room. The walls of the basement were cement brick. Small splatters of brown were all about the dank floor, especially where Arthur was held. The cart that sat in the corner had various knives and tools placed on it according to size. Arthur had his strapped to a thing like a modified dentists chair.
He had tape on his mouth, and was trying to yell, trying to scream. Oliver tightened the straps.

"Ah yes, now for the fun!" He giggled. You wanted to cry out, this wasn't right at all, how could he? He selected a scalpel, and bent over Arthur's face. You ducked back behind the mound of boxes, you couldn't bring yourself to watch. You heard Arthur wimper against the tape.

"Mm, does that hurt? Shame." Oliver said with fake sympathy. "I wish I could hear your screams... A true shame." Arthur whimpered again. "Fine, I'll take it off, just for you." He ripped it off and Arthur made no noise, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a scream. He let loose a string of curses.

Oliver sighed. "That's very un-gentlemanly of you, Artie. But I know how to fix that." You heard Arthur begin to protest,, and his words became garbled. He let out a scream that became quiet.

"Just like an- oh, what are they called? From that popular book series... Oh yes, an avox. You're an avox now! No more swearing for you! Or any talking at all, for that matter." Oliver laughed loudly. "But just because I've removed it, doesn't mean you can't still cry out, don't I know it." Arthur's wimpers became more and more frequent.

"Ah, beautiful, a true masterpiece. Dear, look at the time! I should get going, I agreed to help out Al again... Oh, don't worry love, I'll be back." You heard the sound of metal clanging on metal. "Toodles." Oliver rushed up the stairs, and slammed the door.

You peaked out. The coast was clear. Oh Arthur... All because he had said you were his girlfriend, surely, it had sparked a forest fire of terrifying jealousy in Oliver.

Arthur lay slumped in the chair, breathing quickly, tears streaming from his closed eyes. On his face were thin cuts, looping and curling in odd symbol-like shapes. The right of his face was symmetrical to the opposite side. If blood and tears didn't cover it all, it might have looked intentional, wanted. But that was exactly the opposite. On the metal cart sat a small pink chunk.

"Oh Arthur... I'm... I'll save you." He opened his eyes, wet and red. "I promise..."