𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 #36

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𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 - 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙮 (𝙘𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙧)

-

tiffany rocked back and forth on the hard, rusted-blood painted floor, grunting as she scratches and nips at her neck, arms, hands, and legs.

"give her a dose of the second drug." instructed a man.

she fearfully looked up at the man, pleading silently with her low, bloodshot veiny eyes, her head visibly shaking vigorously. she was not able to speak.

the only sounds that escaped her mouth were her beseeching whimpers.

a worker for the man did what he was demanded, grabbed another syringe full of hydrofluoric acid, and stuck the needle in her skin. he pushed only a small bit of the chemical in her. however, that one push sent her body into unimaginable pain.

her eyes shot open, as bulging green veins began to rise in her hands, neck, and embonpoint areas. she began to seize, choking up foam and blood - her body desperately trying to get rid of the toxin that spread throughout her body, slowly burning away her internal insides.

"where is your daughter, tiffany?" the man questioned, with a stiff laugh. "and why were my men killed?"

tiffany gasped, attempting desperately to speak.

"huh?" the man cupped the back of his left ear. "i can't hear you tiffany, what was that again?"

tiffany threw up blood, and black unmentionables. "sh. . ." she coughed, forcing the words out. "escape."

was the only word she could get out before she passed out.

the man kicked tiffany roughly in her back to wake her up, however, she was too out of shape to wake up.

the man deeply sighed, fixing the buttons on his black, collared shirt. "give her the antidote, and when she's up immediately take her to find her daughter."

"i have to postpone the auction, and this particular guy desperately wants the girl. we can't waste any more time!"

"or else your blood will be spilled next."







"hi! how're ya'?" narnia spoke, with a tight-lined smile, squinted eyes, her nostrils flared, and her head slightly tilted to the side, to dave.

"aht! back it up, back it up, back it up. do you have a wristband?" she held her a random card, swinging it in dave's face, blocking him from the bathroom door.

"huh? no—"

"well, you can't get in. you need a wristband," narnia repeated, swinging the card back in his face.

"narnia, i gotta pee—"

"no, i'm not gonna mess with you for the free! i don't even know you!" narnia placed her hands in the pockets of her huge jacket, dave lent her, and pulled her shoulders all the way towards her ears.

"narnia—"

"you're wearing crocs, LEAVE!"

"girl, if you don't—" dave lightly pushed narnia's head out the way, and walked into the bathroom.

𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 // dave.eastWhere stories live. Discover now