*sfsh-pah* *sfsh-pah* *sfsh-pah*
The whip they're using glides through the air and hits my back every couple of seconds.
The wounds leek blood with each contact and my body involuntarily jolts.
I don't know why they're doing this, but I try not to think about it too much. The whipping continues for a couple more minutes and then the have me push a huge gear. They're making a sixteen year old slave away in hell. Who would've known?
The 'worker' incharge of me ads a few pounds to the chains on my wrists, arms and ankles. I keep going at almost the same pace, just more strained and probably for a shorter amount of time.
"Much better." Zalgo says referring to my physical state. "Not only have you broken her body, but also her mind. All within a week. Well done 6894."
Sucker, you didn't count on me being a good actress did ya? I keep my face straight and eyes downward during this thought.
Zalgo creates a dagger out of shadow as he approaches. I feel the blade against my cheek. He smirks as he presses it slightly. "Let's see how broken she is."
"You OK? " asks 85 as he applies alcohol to the slice on my cheek. "Does it really matter?" I reply as he removes the cotton bud. "I guess not, but still."
"85?" I ask. "Mmhmm?" He acknowledges his nickname. "Why are you helping me? You really don't need to."
He finishes packing the stuff up before facing me. "Not all of us want to see others suffer, at least not any suffering."
"Sooo, you're fine with murdering someone in their sleep?" He wrinkles his nose in disgust. "Too boring. If I'm gonna kill someone, I'm gonna see the fear in their eyes."
I giggle at his answer. "I just don't wanna see YOU suffer..." he mumbles thinking I can't hear him. You and shadow cat would fit in perfectly back at the mansion.
Just after thinking that I remember all the things Zalgo had said about them.
It started to feel as if I'd never see them again. Feel as if I'd be stuck here forever.
Now it wasn't hard to look like I'd given up. My shoulders slumped slightly and my eyes moved downwards and stayed on the ground as I kept thinking the dark and sorrowful thoughts.
"Rebecca?" I heard 85 ask as he looked concerned. Slowly bringing my gaze up to him, I stare him straight in the eyes. "If I want to get out of here, then I should start getting serious."
YOU ARE READING
He's my father(creepy pasta)
Fanfiction-+-+-+-+- For years I've been made fun of because of my hair, it's softer than silk, it doesn't make knots, it's never been to long or to short(at least not for me), it flows in the wind and is easy to style, but it's white. And I finally found out...
