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tw: drugs and physical abuse
KAT
SHE WAS SCREWED. The Russians had left for a bit, and left her in the room. Kat's hands were tied behind her back, her ankles were wrapped in a duct tape ish wrapping, and she was hungry. A bit of blood dribbled across her lip, and she held her tongue a bit out of her mouth so she could taste it. It felt like salt, the typical bleeding on somebody's mouth. Except this time it was revolting. For this was her own blood she was losing, flowing from the lips that had kissed the sun not half a day ago. Her ear piercing was bleeding, too, from when the Russians dragged her into the room and her earring caught on a guy's shiny gold shirt button.
Kat tried to straighten her spine as her back pain became overwhelming, but the binds caught on her skin, and she slouched once more. A long sigh escaped her throat, as she tried to overcome the feeling of helplessness. Dustin and Erica are getting help. For a second she wondered how they were doing, and if they were making progress. That was before she remembered that they were only kids and it was alright if they took a while. Kat would've sulked about how no one had listened to her, or complain about her bleeding, except she'd already done that and she'd gotten a kiss from Steve in return. Now she wondered what Steve was doing.
The door buzzed, and the same douches from earlier walked in. Except this time, there was a lab coat guy following them, wheeling a metal tray inside.
"Whoa, uh, what's that?" Kat said, panic rising in her narrow throat and clenching it from the sides.
They didn't respond, the doctor dude taking out a pair of silver pliers that glinted menacingly in the room's lighting.
"Hey! Stop, stop, stop, what's that?" Kat asked again frantically as the guy flexed a gun-like thing at the end of his hand, a small blue bottle implanted into it. Are they gonna inject me with that?! The doctor grinned like the Joker, coming up right in front of her. The gun was dark silver, a long, thick needed glistening against the lights and threatening to escape into her skin.
Two Russian guards came in front of her, one of them grabbing her neck and hands, holding them behind her back, and another crouched down to hold her ankles steady. Their grip was tight and sweaty, and Kat tried to thrash against their hands, but Jazzercise had failed her muscles.
"Something.... to loosen your tongue," the doctor snickered, before grabbing her hair and yanking it to the right. The pain buzzed through her scalp, making her scream, before the needle entered her neck.
Was it possible that a thin piece of metal could cause so much pain? Or was that just the liquid inside? Kat didn't know, but her mind fixated on solving the mystery through a sheer haze of pain. The needle broke through the layers of her skin, shredding every shield of dignity alongside it. With every shell broken, Kat was reduced to her core, freezing with the cold and dancing on silver strings attached to the needletips. Just a little girl with bullet holes in her lungs and a heart of gold.
