𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐘 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

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2 MONTHS LATER

THIRD PERSON's POV:

"Alright Sam, where is she?" A man with a messy white button up shirt with trousers and suspenders connecting the two garments, laid his face in his palm. A resting intimidating smile present on his lips, his eyes staring into the creepers ones. The whole aura around the man made even Sam shiver, the scar on his face serving a reminder that he doesn't back down easily.

Quackity awaited Sam's response, tapping his finger on his forearm.

"Come on, I don't have all day."

"I told you that she isn't in the prison."

Quackity's grin grew wider, he knew full well that she was in the prison and the fact that Sam was lying to his face made him even more sure of that fact. Quackity laced his fingers together and moved his chin onto the backs of his laced hands, eyes turning a bit darker than comfortable.

"Oh Sam, you don't take me for a fool, do you?"

"No sir." Quackity chuckled to himself,

"Then let me ask you again," Quackity lowered his hands down and leaned forward towards Sam, "Where. Is. She?"

-

Tommy just left again, this visit was even shorter than last time; barely even thirty minutes. It wasn't the best either, he kept asking Y/n all sorts of questions about Wilbur. How pathetic, I still can't even say his name and it's been more than half a year since L'manberg's destruction. Y/n still couldn't bring herself to say his name, too much pain came from it.

Y/n pulls her hands out from her sides and rests her eyes onto the centre of her palms, breathing in large gulps of air to stop the salty water from falling to the floor. Just sitting in the cell is draining, her energy practically nonexistent now. Not to mention how hard Tommy's visit was for Y/n's mental health.

Something was bothering him, before this visit it had been about three weeks instead of the usual one coming to visit Y/n. Tommy almost acted like he didn't want to be in the prison with her, I don't really blame him. But no matter how many times she asked what was wrong he wouldn't tell her.

"I guess that's fair, people don't really tell me much anyway......God, what am I doing?"

Where is my life going? I just spent the last 7 months of my life in captivity, in a cell being held by cruel men. What's the point? Why am I here, what am I doing wrong? I feel so angry and frustrated, did I do something to deserve this? Is this all my fa-

The familiar sound of metal machinery grinding against each other fills the polluted air, bringing Y/n's attention to the main cell entrance. The large metallic door seperates from each part perfectly, revealing two people walking silently into the room. The multiple sets of footsteps confuses Y/n, usually she would only hear the two from Sam but she heard another set.

"I thought Tommy already left." Y/n whispers to herself, not auditable to the two visitors below her.

As much as she wanted to see who the unknown person was, her leg and partial leg wouldn't move; like she was paralysed. Like her mind was active but her body wasn't functioning, further frustrating her more.

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