The Lost Ones Book 2: Welcome Home

Chapter 37

(Hey everyone! Big Trigger warnings this chapter! Thoughts of self harm/suicide and more physical abuse)

Stampy felt like he had been struggling with this collar for hours now. He had kind of given up on getting it off any time soon but continued to fiddle with it every now and then.

He was hardly paying attention to it when he suddenly heard a click and felt it release its grip. He quickly looked down and saw it had fallen off of him and he had picked the lock with his claws.

He gave a weak but relieved laugh and quickly got to his feet and looked around. "Okay... gotta find Jase." He quickly took off down the hall he last saw him being dragged down.

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Jason's body was weak. He could barely move, every bone in his body ached with even the subtlest of movements. Scars and bruises littered his body and blood coated the floor.

He'd lost track of how many times he had died at this point. He stopped counting after what... twelve? He'd suffered any kind of death at this point, some in ways he didn't even want to name.

Jason couldn't even recall how long he'd been trapped in that room for. It felt like years, but he had probably only been there a day.

Everything had changed about him, his hair a mess, his body scarred, his voice hoarse from screaming. All that remained the same was the hatred in her eyes.

Phoebe was off to the side, trying to find another method to try, ignoring him as she muttered nonsense to herself. She seemed to be debating which of two blades she wanted to use this time.

Jason slowly sat up, leaning his back against the wall. He tried his best to be quiet, but one of his boots squeaked across the ground.

She grabbed a small dagger and tossed it in his direction, it barely missed him. "What are you doing?" She asked coldly.

"J-just s-sitting up!" Jason flinched.

She glanced at him. "..." Suddenly another knife was tossed at him, barely missing but on the other side and she was in front of him with a knife at his throat. "You weren't thinking about escaping again, were you?" She hissed.

"N-no!" He choked.

"...Good." She pulled away from him after a painful minute or two. She glanced back at her options and narrowed her eyes. "What to do... what to do..." She muttered.

Jason looked at the ground, his heart already racing.

She continued to search through her options, slowly getting annoyed at her lack of a decision.

Jason took a deep breath before looking back at her. "How much longer are you going to keep doing this to me...?" His voice was frail and weak.

She huffed. "As long as I want." She replied coldly.

"Why? Haven't you done enough?"

"..." she glanced at him, her eyes hateful. "If you're asking that, then clearly not."

"P-Phoebe please stop.. I just want her ba-"

She was suddenly in front of him again a knife held just inches from the side of his face. "DON'T YOU DARE MENTION HER AGAIN!" She yelled. "SHE IS GONE AND SHE IS NEVER COMING BACK! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THAT?!"

Jason said nothing and only stared at her, the fear in his eyes evident.

"WHY DO YOU KEEP REMINDING ME OF SOMEONE I'M NOT! WHY DO YOU KEEP MAKING ME FEEL GUILTY! MAKE ME FEEL PITY FOR YOU?!"