𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩? ❝ 𝘵𝘧𝘱 𝘹 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘢!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 ❞ | REWRITING

[ 6 ]

[ a.n] : so that guy who kidnapped you, if you can't envision him, ere's how he looks like :

also the y/n i envision would be somewhat like :

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CHAPTER SIX

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[ 30 minutes ago...]

'This is one ugly chair.'

Your face contorted in discomfort as you shifted around the metal chair, arms bounded firmly against the armrest. Furthermore, what kind of person would greet their guests in this manner? It was so tight you were going to pop a blood vessel from squirming too much; honestly, the cheaper one you bought with Genos was far better compared to this expensive crap. Oh, Genos. You were curious about how he was doing, given that you hadn't said anything to him when you left.

You broke out in a cold sweat and hoped that he didn't decide to burn down the entire city just to find you.

"Are we there yet?" you ask, blinking from your horribly tied makeshift blindfold. I want to go home, these binds are easy to break, but I'm curious about the game...

The man in front sighs and keeps pushing the chair forward. The wheels strapped to the said chair squeaked slightly, and he winced, with his hands furled around the rope dragged the rope further forward, a little strained. "Not yet."

He had difficulty trying to load you into the van--almost breaking his spine in the process; honestly, just how heavy were you? He was sweating, his hands were clammy in a pallor, clutching the rope so rigidly in place that the grains pinched his calloused palms. He adjusted his tie, letting out a sigh. He was sweating, why is he sweating? This stomach churned abhorrently, almost as if he wanted to pleasantly batter the floor with his bile.