twisted (phan) || book #2

seventeen

D A N ' S P O V

tw// abuse, lots of swearing & insulting

I woke up covered in sweat, beginning to panic when I saw nothing pitch black and my hands tied behind me. My mouth was taped over and a blindfold was tied around my head. I was sat in a chair.

I kicked and squirmed, trying to shimmy out of the ropes, but someone put their hands on my shoulders. "Good morning, Dan."

I tried to insult them, swear at them, but my voice was muffled. The boy groaned, and I was greeted with stinging as the tape was ripped off my mouth. I hissed in pain.

"Don't do anything stupid or I'll make sure you regret it."

I nodded once.

Then I started screaming. "Help! Somebody help! Help me, please! H-" I was cut off when I was smacked harshly against the face, my head turning from the impact and my cheek burning almost instantly.

"Fucking idiot," the boy spat. "Now, let's get this over with."

A girl's voice piped in. "Ross, quit being such a dick. Maybe if you asked him nicely, he'd answer."

"He thinks he has hopes of getting out of here in one piece!"

I tensed.

"Let me take the blindfold off, at least."

"Fine," Ross surrender. I listened to the footsteps and felt hands tugging at the fabric, sliding it off my head.

I opened my eyes, squinting them as bright lights and blurry faces invaded them. My vision focused and I looked around, seeing we were in an old abandoned shack, small lanterns attached to the walls.

I looked at the person in front of me and my eyes widened.

"Nyla?" I whispered.

Nyla nodded then put a finger to her lips, the cuffs around her pale wrists rusting. The bags under her eyes were a deep purple, like a galaxy she longed to touch- place she longed to be in. Anywhere but here. "I'll get us out of here," she told me. They must've taken her the night of the bombing.

"Alright, you've got the bloody blindfold off. Now get out. I'd like to speak with the boy alone."

"Don't do anything you'll regret please," Nyla begged, but Ross shut her up by grabbing her by her cuffs and pulling her out of the room with him. He reappeared, shutting the steel door behind him.

"Hello, Dan," Ross grinned.

"What do you want from me?"

"I want answers- answers that your boyfriend couldn't give to Alec."

"Ask away."

"You killed Wirrow, am I correct?" He began. I gulped.

"Yes."

"And you killed your mother?"

"My boyfriend did but Wirrow forced him to."

Ross chuckled. "Nice relationship you've got there."

"At least I'm in one."

Ross only smirked. "Who ever said I wasn't?"

"Who-"

"I ask the questions here," he growled, cutting me off. I rolled my eyes. "When did you run away?"

"The same night we killed Wirrow."

"Do you have any weapons on you now?"

"If you were smart, you would've checked while I was unconscious," I scoffed.

Ross ignored me, continuing on. "Did you shoot at that cop- Harry?"

I shut my eyes. "Yes," I whispered. Phil did. But I didnt want him to be hurt.

Ross stepped forward. "You're lying, I can see it all over your face."

"I'm not."

Ross sent another harsh slap to my face. "What, so he just happened to have a tranquilizer in his throat at the same time you were escaping?" I didn't reply, and Ross kicked the underside of my chair, sending me onto the floor. "You're a pathetic liar- a waste of space. You're a killer, and so is your boyfriend. He dragged you into this mess. It's all his fault. You're just too goddamn stupid to see it. You're a worthless piece of shit, just like your mother-"

I spat on his face, glaring. "Fuck you, don't you dare talk about my mother like that."

Without warning Ross had his fists on me, punching wildly, sending kicks at my sides occasionally. I cried out in pain, every hit making me want to disappear more.

"Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic," Ross would repeat as he hit me.

And eventually, I found myself repeating everything he said.

Once he was finally done he stood the chair upright, my head hanging low as blood poured from my nose, my cheek, and more fresh wounds. My entire body ached.

"Now, I'm going to ask you one more time: did he, or did he not, shoot that man?"

I locked eyes with him. "No."

Ross raised his arm to hit me and I flinched, but he never did, instead exhaling and dropping his arm.

"That's it," he snarled. He clapped twice and a door opened behind me. I couldn't turn to see who it was. "You know what to do."

"Yes sir," a boy's voice replied, but it sounded all too familiar. As I was about to turn a bag was shoved back over my head and I was untied from the chair, only to be dragged through the door and lead through the hall.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll see soon enough."

I shuddered and heard a door open. I walked through and then the door shut. Footsteps arrived next to me and I was shoved back into a chair then tied.

The bag was torn off my head. I focused my vision. It was a small room, only two windows lighting the room. I examined the walls, gulping when I saw knives and whips hanging from them. A roll of duct tape sat on the desk along with a toxic acid in a bottle and empty buckets stood next to them. Needles and shots were aligned in a tray.

This was a torture chamber.

I heard the boy clear his throat behind me and then my chair was spun to face the stranger. My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped.

It couldn't be.

"P-Parker?" I gasped out. He nearly killed me from drowning me back at the swimming club. "Oh my god, it is you."

"Nice to see you again, Howell. Ready for a world of fun and games?"