067. [dottore x male reader.]

00. prologue.

tw : kidnapping. slight gore mentions, idea of family death. 

 your eyes had become bloodshot  from all of the crying you were doing. your throat hoarse and scratchy from the screaming you let out. you  begged anyone to come to your aid. to your rescue. but alas, no one did. no one came.

 you're the son of a poor family with little-to-no mora to survive the harsh winters of snezhnaya. the small family, of which you used to reside, were mostly farmers. it's a rather reckless occupation to choose, as it's a huge gamble with the snezhnayan weather. though, often than not, it was the poorer side of snezhnaya's residents that were forced with no other option than to farm. 

the only other option is harsh manual labor, which your father had done, as well. the harsh labors laws of snezhnaya are nothing short of loopholes for abusing workers. limbs could fall off in the line of work and the worker wouldn't be allowed to sue. hell, the healthcare bills wouldn't even partially payed off.

it's unfair, you are more than aware. you had experienced the harsh labors and the harsh climates first hand. as a child, you would help your father in the factories, and you would be forced to watch as the unstable machinery would often fall apart on your father's co-workers. sometimes their feet would be crushed underneath huge chunks of metal that fell off; you would be forced to hear their screams of agony.

it was  that very same scream you're performing currently. you could practically feel your vocal chords going shot as you reached octaves you  never imagined you'd be able to reach.

all because two large men came to your house, in the middle of the night. they ... hit you, with some form of a blunt object. you weren't too sure what it was that the pair hit you with. all you could recall was the way you  fainted. and the sight of blood staining your head the moment you woke up. 

you were only able to take glances at your appearance, due to the metal on the two men's suits. the moon's reflections had shun your face upon it, allowing you to note all the atrocities done to you already. 

  "scream one more fucking time," the larger of the two men started as he stopped dead in his tracks. his sudden hault  caused your limbs to be tugged on in a few directions, as the other male hadn't stopped walking until his partner had finished speaking, "or i'm going to cut that fucking tongue of yours out of your god damn skull." 

his threat was enough for you to cease your screaming. you couldn't tell if you were genuinely scared of the thought, or if you were just afraid of the possibility. you would put nothing past these two men. they ripped you from your family-

what happened to your family? 

why didn't they hear your screams?

why didn't they come to your aid?

why didn't they ...

.

.

.

.

.

your eyes shot open as you came to a violent realization. they had to have harmed your family. there was no way otherwise that your family would not come to your rescue. even if it killed them, there was nothing stronger than blood. something had to have been done to them.

they were wonderful people, truly. they always cared deeply for you. they took care of your wounds as you helped make ends meet. they read to you at night as if you were infant struggling to sleep. they allowed you to have an imagination. 

they cared for you. 

right? 

.

.

.

your mind was left to spiral as your, quite larger, framed body was thrown into the back of... a vehicle? a carriage? you weren't quite too sure. your back slammed against the walls of it, as one of the men climbed into the back with you. leaving the other to take charge of the vehicle. 

your back is sore, as so are your  limbs. you had just been dragged across the harsh terrain of your home town. the small branches clung to your cheap clothing, causing tears to form in the fabric,  only leading to wounds and cuts. 

your entire body hurt. all over. despite the pain in your body, you brought your knees up closely to your chest.

and you wept for the entire ride.