~VICTIM OF GLUTTONY~

CHAPTER 2: Make You Mine

Wren's eyes followed the links connecting her to her captor. Her shaky breaths kept her quiet, as the shackles cut into her ankles. Maxwell rattled the chain he held, if "held" was a good way to describe it. The chain links dangled effortlessly from his hand, but she knew better than to think he was careless. He could snatch that chain in seconds, or his long claws could dart around her throat if she tries to escape. The only option was obedience, as she sat at the foot of the throne. His eyes pierced through her porcelain skin, but she refused to make eye contact. Yet, the silence was broken by a deep growl. She still hadn't eaten. Maxwell smirked, using his own magic to summon something forth: a plate. The plate contained nothing but a fork, a knife, and a single gala apple. Wren could feel his eyes peering into her, as she shifted uncomfortably.
"Are you hungry, pet?"
Wren tried to ignore him. She really did. His voice bounced around in her mind, making her think about freedom. How she got here. But that thought was broken with a deafening

Crack

As the knife plunged into that damned apple. Drool began to spill from her lips, as he held the piece of the red fruit on a fork. He dangled it above her, as her eyes darted to the apple. She tried her best to reach for it, while remaining on her knees. A single droplet fell, enough for her to catch with her tongue. The juice stung her dry tongue, the flavor bringing her back to reality. Her stomach lurched, and she whimpered. Maxwell snickered, as the fruit dangled from the tines on the cutlery.
"More, please.."
Maxwell turned to face her, his eyes staring at the nub where her arm used to be.
"Say pal, what would you do for this, hm?"
Wren was gasping at this point, begging for the sweet fruit.
"A-Anything.."
He smirked, lowering the fruit to her lips..
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The chains released her hand and ankles at the promise of anything. Instead of freedom, though, two inky, black claws held her in place. Maxwell wasn't in the room, thankfully, to see Wren struggling and crying out in their grasp. The tapping of slick dress shoes caused her to panic more, as he began to hear.. Familiar words..
"My dear.."
Wren called out, her voice hoarse from her wails of terror. Maxwell looked at her struggle, smirking. He had that damned book with him again, and Wren shuddered. He opened the book, grabbing the amputated limb, and began to chant quietly. Wren was breathing quite loudly, overpowering his mumbles as she watched the veins in the nub go a deep purple. It burned, causing her to cry out, as a black substance began to form something new.. The new limb was arched back in pain, much like the other hand, who's nails were scraping against the floor. Tears streamed her face, as Maxwell let go. She relaxed a bit, studying the new arm before another claw grabbed it, pinning it along her normal limbs. Maxwell snickered, standing, and leaving the room once more. But he was far from completing what he wanted. Wren could hear the countless cries for help from past victims, things she never heard before. She heaved, but heard a chilling call from down the hall.
"We'll meet again.."
That song. She began to struggle again, feeling new amounts of pain as five rows of frills pierced through the sides of her spine, and three large ones in the back. She sobbed out in pain.
"Don't know where.."
A faint orange glow along with those familiar golden orbs that watched her grew close, as she whimpered in sorrow. This was her dad's favorite song..
"Don't know when.."
Maxwell got close enough for Wren to see what he was holding. A branding iron. She screamed, struggling even more as the shadows grip tightened.
"But I know we'll meet again.."
Maxwell knelt down, lifting her shirt to expose the creamy skin. Her breathing grew laboured, as she continued to squirm. She was so afraid.. He raised the glowing iron to her navel, as he gave a toothy grin.
"Some sunny day.. "
And with the final verse, he pressed the iron onto her soft underbelly. Her back arched, and she let out a two toned, blood curdling scream of agony, as she threw her head back. Tears streamed her face, as she began to gasp for air. And just as quickly as he pressed the iron on, he pulled it away, leaving her a begging mess. He tossed the iron aside, and cupped her face with a singular hand.
"See? All better.. Now you truly belong to me, Miss Nichols.."
Wren felt her eyes roll back, as everything began to go dark..

A voice called out to her, an unfamiliar, yet soft tone.

"Hello, Wren.."