Predator (DWT x OC)

52

Week three hurts. 

Schlatt came back a couple times, deep bruise on the side of his chin, unsteady, red rimmed eyes. He smelled of cheap alcohol, and then cigarettes, and a noxious mixture of both. It's many gloating, some drunken ramblings, but thankfully he never gets that close again. Sometimes I can feel his fingers dragging across my skin, and it makes me want to rip half my face off. 

Or his hand. Whichever comes first. 

George hasn't been back again, not that I expected him too. Punz told me he talks to Dream and Sapnap a lot more now and I'm glad, he shouldn't have to feel alone because of me. Quackity came and gave me lunch once, but it was more of the same, guilt trips and silly little emotional pleas about how I'm better than 'this', whatever 'this' means. I told him to leave and not let Tubbo see me either. 

It's better that way. We're all different now, and they can't seem to accept that. 

Punz is nice. He listens, he gives me space, he leaves me alone when I need him to. He constantly reminds me that he's getting paid to babysit me, but judging by the amount of times he brings me onto the roof, and the little things he smuggles in for me, he secretly enjoys my company too. 

Despite all of this, life in jail is endlessly boring. Making it to week three felt like dragging myself through broken glass, like years of dull, repetitive days, the same routine, over and over and over again. I've started working out, one of Punz's suggestions, something about funnelling the 'homicidal rage' he thinks I have, into something productive. 

Also to stop my legs feeling like jelly all the time.

I grunt, arching out my back on the floor, pushing my chest up, stretching out my sore muscles.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

 I bend my arms, my chest meeting the ground, and lean my weight back onto my knees, opening my shoulders to the ground.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth. 

It's calming. I like to think of emerald green tree tops, whistling wind with the slightest icy chill, clear water ponds and schools of tiny silver fish, the way the undergrowth feels like a velvety damp carpet underneath bare feet. A world away from the Greater SMP, and L'manburg, and Schlatt and Dream and everything. 

I told Punz this, while we were both sitting on the rooftop, watching the sun dip below the horizon, caress the fluffy yellow-washed tops of the forest. He said he was relieved that I wasn't picturing cutting someone's throat out. 

I'm starting to feel like Punz thinks I'm a little crazy. 

"Tense in your stomach, your form sucks." 

Speak of the devil. 

"Welcome back, weren't you supposed to be making sure I didn't escape or something?" I laugh, pushing myself fully upright onto my knees. 

"I had to talk to the President himself." Punz says, and I turn around, looking at the handcuffs dangling in his hand.

"Oh fuck off." I say, scrambling to my feet. "No way."

"Schlatt wants to speak to you." He explains. "Please do not make this difficult." 

I raise an eyebrow. "Yeah? What are you going to do?" 

"You know I'll just handcuff you and drag you to his office." 

"Why can't he just come and talk to me?"

"You think I know? I just get my orders, which you know I have to follow so I don't blow my cover."

I roll my head back in exasperation. "Why do you have to be so right all the time." I whine.