When the lock clicks and the door opens once again, the foreboding light cascades down in the form of a person's shadow onto him and he cannot hold in a moan of distress.

He jerks his hands down against the cold floor in helpless, terrified frustration. His blood trickles from under the thick cable wire tying his wrists tightly together, collecting in a puddle with the rest of his spilled life force on the floor. Those cuts barely had time to close over, now torn open again. It cannot have been more than a couple hours since the last visit; what had he done to incur this unbearable punishment today? Who did he piss off this bad?

He listens to the familiar, heavy footsteps nearing him, hoping desperately that they aren't here for him. Unfortunately, those steel-toed boots enter his vision and do not leave, slowing to a stop right in front of his cell, peeking through the bars curiously. He wishes that just once, they would walk right past him; that he would be ignored and left alone. Alas, today has not been the luckiest.

"Oh, just look at you. Always such a sight for sore eyes."

"F-Fuck off."

Whumpees hung from the ceiling by their wrists. Defiant Whumpees mouthing off despite the pain, and having weights tied to them as a consequence.

previous

content warnings: vampire whump, hypnosis, temporary (child) character death, (child) vampiric turning, kidnapping

Luke tried to stifle the shuddering breath that was on the verge of his tongue. There was no way anyone would be stupid enough to invite the vampire in. Once they did, that was it. They would all lose their lives, or they’d be carted straight off to the kingdom. 

But since Justinian was the only vampire present, he doubted that if the creature got inside, any of them would live. 

One vampire enough to slaughter them all. 

Emily was tense and rigid beside him. He didn’t doubt she thought Luke would do anything to save Ten, but he really hoped she didn’t think he was stupid enough to invite the vampire inside.

“If we let you in,” Luke started, trying to keep his voice steady. It was incredibly difficult with the sheer languid power that the vampire exuded, a creature that was superior to them in amost every single way,” you’ll kill us.” 

Justinian grinned again, flashing his fangs. Luke supressed a shiver. “Not at all.” 

The vampire’s eyes left Luke’s briefly to drop down to Ten instead, who didn’t even seem to react to the way his hand squeezed the back of his small neck a little more tightly. He hated seeing the kid like this - hated that he’d been forced to deal with a vampire alone, as an eleven year old child who didn’t even know any better. Who didn’t know, to the full extent, how ruthless and dangerous these creatures were. 

A finger slipped under Ten’s chin, forcing his head to the side and back, staring directly at the vampire. 

“The poor thing was lost,” Justinian crooned, and Luke had almost yanked an arrow out of his quiver. “He was terrified. Didn’t know his way back home. Isn’t that right?” 

Ten made a wobbly, scared noise of agreement. Despite the compulsion, the vampire had left Ten’s mind to run as normal it seemed, and he didn’t want to imagine all of the raging, panicked thoughts that were racing through him. Justinian smiled in approval, turning back to Luke with a look in those gleaming eyes that said “I told you so.” 

“See?” He hummed. 

Luke sucked in a sharp breath. “Now he’s back. Let him go.” 

The vampire’s smile suddenly looked tight. “What do you mean, let him go?” He glanced at Ten, still stroking the back of his neck gently. “It’s not like I’m holding him hostage.” 

“Don’t fuck with me,” Luke bitterly chuckled out, his lip curling into a strained snarl. It probably wasn’t the best of ideas to make a vampire mad when Ten was stuck in its clutches, and could snap his neck with that hand at any given moment, but there was this restless desperation clawing at his chest. All he thought about all day was Ten’s safety. 

Justinian continued to smile. “Invite me in.” 

Luke seethed. “No.” 

“You humans and your manners,” the vampire drawled. “You haven’t thanked me for bringing your offspring back. The least you could do is invite me in, don’t you think?” 

His spine went stiff. It was like he was toying with them all, tempting each human soul to let a creature of the night inside their home. People’s eyes were flickering about, not even daring to breathe in case the vampire could hear them. Everyone had settled into the sidelines once they realised that Luke had unknowingly volunteered to be their spokesperson. Not even Emily had pried her lips open, which was severely out of character for the years she used them to complain.

His grip on the bow tightened. Justinian’s attitude felt like it was switching from cold and subtly threatening, to smugness and cruel amusement at the simplicity of the humans in front of him. It made his stomach twist. 

“Thank you,” Luke breathed out, but it was difficult to sound sincere. “For bringing him back.” 

The vampire raised a brow. His throat had gone all prickly from his pride, trying to close it up, but if the creature would take gratitude over signing their death warrants, he’d take a simple thank you any day. He seemed to consider the words that Luke had chewed up, before his lip twitched into a soft smirk. 

“You’re welcome,” he drawled, patting the back of Ten’s neck softly. “You want him back? Come and get him.” 

Luke bit the inside of his cheek. “Release him first.” 

Those words seemed to strike a chord within the vampire, and his eyes darkened, even visible in the darkness of the night creeping up on them. Luke definitely didn’t miss the way his hand tightened against the back of Ten’s neck, pinching it. It sounded like Ten almost made a strangled, pained noise, but it was lodged in the confines of his throat. It set something fiery off in Luke’s chest. 

“If you want him back so badly,” the vampire drawled, his voice having taken a stern tone that sent shivers racing down his spine,” then come and get him.” 

Luke sucked in a sharp breath. It would be suicide, wouldn’t it? The vampire was clearly trying to lure him out, trying to use Ten as way for his little meal to wander willingly out of the safety of their camp. Even if he tried to get Ten into the camp before something could happen, the vampire’s reflexes would thwart that instantly. 

He felt Emily’s hand on his shoulder, hot to the touch. 

“Luke,” she murmured, in a way that told him she didn’t approve of this. When he tilted his head aside to look at her, it was like she was trying to keep her expression together as much as she could. She was tense, but just like him, just like everyone else, she was scared. 

Luke’s stomach gave another sickening twist. This was his fault, wasn’t it? All of his hunts had encouraged Ten to run off, he’d made him his own bow that was now broken and coddled to his chest like it was still the most precious thing to him. He wanted Ten to be safe, and he would risk his life just to do it. 

When he shrugged himself out of her grip, she didnt’t say anything. Didn’t stop him. If the vampire decided to kill him, then there would be nothing that he could do. 

Luke couldn’t feel his legs when he took that first step. Getting closer and closer to the line that separated him from life and death.

But also from Ten.

The kid still hadn’t snapped out of it, but there was nothing he could do when Justinian was the one in control here. His grip on his bow was deadly. He didn’t even think he would be able to pry his own fingers from the sturdy wood if he tried. 

Keeping his eyes down low, Luke didn’t dare make eye contact with Justinian now. The moment he passed the line, he had to push the presence of the creature to the back of his mind, and not fall into the deep hypnotic state he knew vulnerable humans could get themselves trapped into. 

His feet stuttered to a stop at the line. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, that he felt like he was going to be sick. But this was for Ten.

Luke sucked in a deep breath, and stepped over the line. It was deadly quiet from the campers behind him. No one even dared to utter a single word as he forced his numb legs over to Ten, slowly kneeling down in front of him. He kept his gaze focused on him, not daring to let it slip over to the vampire for even a moment. Justinian could probably hear how fast his heart was racing right now, the blood rushing to his head and making him dizzy with fear. 

“Ten,” Luke whispered, his chest so tight he could barely even get the words out. He placed his bow on the ground. “Ten, look at me. Are you there?” 

For a sickening, gut wrenching second, Luke considered whether Justinian was even going to release the kid, like he had planned to play a cruel joke on him the entire time. But then there was a flicker of lucidity in Ten’s eyes, and the kid’s expression suddenly lit up, no longer tense and blank and fixated. Terrified, watery eyes flitted up to meet his. 

“Luke?” Ten croaked, clutching the broken bow even closer to his chest. When he went to glance at the vampire, he gently cupped his cheeks, forcing him to meet his eyes instead. 

“Don’t look at him,” he whispered, more desperately than he would have liked. Ten’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, but he jerkily nodded his head. Luke realised his own breathing was audibly shaking in the night air, and he tried to put on his bravest face for the kid. He gently took Ten by the hand, rising to his feet, his whole body felt stiff with tension. 

He left his bow. He didn’t even think about it.

“Just walk with me,” Luke breathed, almost pleading. “Look ahead. We’re going back now, alright?” 

Ten plastered himself to Luke’s side as though he was velcro, and he was sure he could feel the tension and the terror radiating from him. The kid was shaking like a leaf in the wind, no doubt ready to collapse if Luke wasn’t gripping his hand tightly. 

One step. 

Another step. 

He could feel the pinpricks of Justinian’s beady eyes following him as he led Ten to the gate, his foot almost passing over the threshold, ready to jerk Ten to safety as quickly as possible and—

Before they’d made it past the gate, Ten suddenly made a pained, whining noise, and Luke felt him suddenly fight against his grip, making him stiffen. He turned his head aside, glancing desperately over Ten’s wrinkled expression, contorted in pain, and the unwanted confusion stabbed relentlessly at him. His brows twitched. 

“Ten,” he pleaded, his voice strained. “Come on.” 

When he tried to tug the kid closer to him, he made another strangled hiss of pain, now digging his fingers into Luke’s arm as hard as he could to get him to let go, fighting against his pulling grasp with this squirmy desperation. 

“It hurts,” Ten choked out, like there was this pressure around his throat that was making his voice weak. He whined again, and this time, Luke eased his grip on his hand, despite knowing that he wasn’t the one hurting him right now. When Ten skittishly took a few steps away from the gate, he noticed the wrinkled expression faded slightly, reopening his eyes. Luke choked on a breath. 

“What did you do?” 

The words came out breathless, but there was an underlying fury laced between them. He was still looking at Ten, but he was talking directly to Justinian. He kneeled down, cupping Ten’s face again and frantically inspecting him. The kid’s eyes were wide, dazed and confused. He faintly heard Emily sharply calling his name. 

“Luke.” 

Ten wasn’t under the influence of Justinian’s compulsion anymore. So why couldn’t he come inside the camp? What did the vampire do to him? He couldn’t contain the fiery rage bubbling inside of him.

All of those questions, and still, Luke knew the answer to them.

Ten wasn’t a vampire, that much he was sure of, and the vampire held no power over him. But who knows how long Ten had been with him. What the vampire had made him do. It sent him into a fit of rage to think there was vampire blood racing through Ten’s system right now, enough to make react impulsively in fury.

“What did you do?” Luke snapped again, his gaze wrenching towards the vampire with his lip curled into a deadly snarl. Immediately, his eyes met Justinian’s, and it was like something had hit him hard in the chest. All of the air was knocked out of his lungs, his vision tunneling through those glimmering, red eyes, and a complacent dizzines washed over him within seconds. 

But Luke forced his eyes shut, and it felt like it was tearing his skull apart just to look away. The air barrelled back into him, and he hadn’t even realised he’d been swaying on the spot until Ten’s small hands on his wrists grounded him, shakily calling out his name. All it did was allow that anger to return like a storm, and before he knew it, he was reaching for an arrow in his quiver, and he was going straight for the vampire. 

He heard Emily screeching for him to stop, but Luke was consumed by a different kind of red this time, his own. 

Even though he thought he’d moved quickly, it was nothing compared to the reflexes and speed of a vampire. Before he could even blink, Luke felt something twist him into the ground with a hard slam, a hand fisted in his locks tightly, and others digging hard into his arms, twisting them behind his back. He tasted a mouthful of dirt on his tongue, sucking in a ragged, wheezy breath, before he realised that Justinian hadn’t even moved. 

On him were two other vampires. And from the shadows, seemingly from the depths of the darkness, a dozen vampires appeared, scattered around them, and Luke faintly heard the soft gasp from Ten’s throat. He thrashed, straining against their hold, but nothing he did would break the strength of one vampire, let alone two. 

He could hear people from the gate yelling as he was wrenched onto his knees, the uncomfortable pressure on his shoulder blades making him clench his teeth together to suppress a pained grunt. Ten kept trying to slowly back himself towards the gate, his eyes flickering frantically between each terrifying vampire that prowled closer, but each time, a look of discomfort would pass through him, and he’d be forced to shuffle a little further forwards to alleviate the pain. 

This time, there was nowhere else for Luke to go when Justinian’s fingers dug into his jaw, wrenching his head upwards, and meeting his eyes before he had the intuition to close them shut. He instantly felt that swirling dizziness hit him again, being sucked into the tunnels of red. 

“Quiet, now,” Justinian drawled, and Luke’s throat immediately closed up. “Be still. You brought this on yourself for lashing out, I’m afraid.” 

When the vampire’s sharp fingers left his jaw, Luke realised he couldn’t bring himself to move, just like he’d been ordered. The vampire’s compulsion had him wired to the spot, the two vampires still keeping him on his knees in the uncomfortable, degrading position. He could only watch, his own mind dazed as the vampire took Ten by the arm in a soft grasp, and gently pulled him along, away from the gate. 

The kid looked frightened, but Justinian was gentle with him, the same way he had been when he’d found them at the gate. Ten’s eyes were flickering around anxiously, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each scared intake of air. Justinian’s hands landed on his shoulders, settling behind him. 

Luke stared. 

He wanted to tell Ten that he was sorry. Tears were pooling in his eyes, and the kid was trembling, looking so tiny and vulnerable in front of the creature. Justinian’s hands left his shoulders, sliding up to his neck. 

“Luke?” Ten whispered, his voice choking up. It sounded like he could barely get the words out, and his own mind was screaming for him to say something. To reassure him, to apologise, to say something so Ten wasn’t in such an awful position. 

Justinian’s hands bracketed Ten’s head. 

Luke’s heart broke. Even though he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, he could feel the familiar seething heat of tears sliding down his cheeks. The blurriness of his own tears made his vision even cloudier, and God, he prayed it would stay cloudy so he didn’t have to witness this. Ten was looking at him, big eyes confused and frightened, and as he opened his mouth to speak, Justinian snapped his neck. 

His body thumped to the ground. 

Even against the high pitched ringing that erupted in his ears, Luke could hear the horrified screams from the campers, the chaos that tore them apart as most fled from the gate, retreating back into camp. Luke wanted to scream, wanted to fight tooth and nail and go out bringing as much damage as he could to the vampire, but he was helpless. 

Justinian stepped over Ten’s body.

He watched as a vampire knelt down beside him, and he was sure he heard another disgusting crunch as they set his neck right. The kid’s body was then gently scooped up into their arms, settled comfortably in the crook of their neck. 

Justinian let out a soft sigh, tilting Luke’s head back with a single, cold finger. 

“You and I both know the moment I found that kid, he was mine to do with as I pleased,” the vampire murmured by his ear, and Luke found himself going even more lightheaded when he forced their gazes together once more. “The stories of immortal children might seem tragic, but I assure you, it won’t be anything like that. Not that you’ll ever see him again.”

Justinian’s lip twitched into a languid smirk, his voice dropping to a low, hypnotic lull. 

“Relax,” he purred, and against his own discretion, Luke found himself doing just that, his mind and his body going slack. It was terrifying, but at the same time, he was too far in Justinian’s compulsion to think for himself. He just kept sinking, further and further, his eyes droopy and glassed over. The vampire swiped a thumb over his lips, admiring his face for a moment. “Oh, you’ll set the markets thriving.”

Luke didn’t have the strength to think of the implications of that, because he was falling, and he couldn’t stop. Justinian’s eyes pushed him deeper and deeper, until everything shut off, and he was gone.

previous · next

content warnings: hypnosis, mentioned vampire whump, threat

Luke was up early the next day. 

The heavy weight of exhaustion tugged on his eyelids, a soft, weary sigh escaping his lips. He was sure he felt his shoulder blades and spine popping as he sat up, feeling the distinct burn from his hunting yesterday. 

Stretching his arms leisurely, Luke ruffled a hand through his hair before swinging off the bed, pulling on his boots. When that awful, morning haze was shaken off, he took his time preparing himself for the day. As he absentmindedly followed his automatic routine, he couldn’t help but admire the fact that Ten hadn’t come storming into his tent yet. 

Last year, the kid had launched himself on top of him while he was still sleeping, and made so much noise until he finally managed to drag his dreary self out of bed. Maybe the excitement had actually tuckered him out this year round. Unlikely, but he could dream. 

Luke’s eyes drifted to his bow as he pulled his shirt over his head, narrowing slightly. The conversation between him and Emily nagged at the back of his mind, but he forced it away. He didn’t want to be thinking about that when it was Ten’s special day. So, he shucked his jacket on, left his bow on the table, and left his tent. 

The sun was particularly bright today, and there wasn’t a trace of a single cloud in the sky. It was bright and blue, almost damn near perfect weather. 

Luke smiled softly to himself, feeling the wind tickle his cheeks. Ten deserved a perfect birthday, and even though he had no intentions of taking him out into the Collared Forest or even outside of the camp, there were plenty of targets he could practice with. Luke passed Rian’s place, giving the man a stone cold expression on the way past. 

Trust Rian to recongise the deers from the forest. 

It was a dead forest. There were no other living things out there apart from animals, and there were very little. Not even vampires found the need to wander aimlessly through such a large acre of land when no humans dared step foot in there. But it made for such a good hunting ground - the deers and various other animals were complacent, and not used to being hunted, so it made them easy prey. 

As much as Luke hated taking the life of those beautiful animals, there were mouths to feed. 

No amount of apologising would ever make him feel better about it, though. 

“You could’ve just kept your mouth shut,” Luke grunted as he sauntered past, and the man’s hard expression didn’t falter, choosing not to dignify him with an answer. Good - Luke didn’t want him ruining his mood today. 

When he ducked into Ten’s tent, he was met with a sight that made him stop in his tracks. 

There was a small crowd, maybe about a handful of people, gathered around a bed. When Luke stepped forward, he noticed it was Mary who was perched on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands and her shoulders shaking with sobs. Emily was stood in front of her, and she was the only one who titled her head aside to meet Luke’s curious, but concerned gaze. 

“...no trace, I don’t know where he is!” The woman sobbed, her muffled voice cracking inbetween. Mary wasn’t Ten’s mother, but she looked after him like one. The sight of her grief-stricken form and the fearful, sympathetic faces from the rest of the crowd made Luke’s heart sink in realisation. 

“What happened?” He snapped, his voice more urgent than he had expected. He took a couple steps forward, feeling the heavy weight of his heart slamming against his ribcage. Mary didn’t even look at him, leaning into the touch of a woman who gently sat next to her, comforting her. It was Emily that spoke, her voice like a dagger through the air. 

“It’s Ten,” she said. Luke’s chest twisted. 

“Shut up,” he breathed, disbelief raging through his ears just as relentlessly as his own blood. He barged past the woman, who sternly called out his name in warning as he rushed towards the kid’s bed, his eyes depserately searching for the familiar arch of the bow he’d crafted just for him. 

He checked the drawers, boxes, cupboards, under the bed, under his clothes. It wasn’t here. 

Luke felt the rising, crushing pressure hit him like a train, running a desperate hand through his hair. He felt dizzy, spinning around a few times for good measure as his gaze swept his living space one more time, ignoring Emily’s grab for him. 

He twisted out of her grip, heading straight for the flap of the tent again. 

“Luke, stop!” Emily growled, catching up to him easily enough and digging her vice-like grip into his shoulder. He hissed as she jerked him back, enough to make him stumble, and he angrily wrenched away from her with a scowl. 

“I have to go find him,” he heaved. 

“I can’t let you do that.” 

Luke’s face twisted into a deadly snarl. “Emily, he’s missing. He’s out there somewhere by himself and I have to go find him.” 

When he made another move to leave, she snatched his forearm this time, and when he went to pull away, she wasn’t budging. He was firmly locked in place, and it only made his stomach contort tighter. What was Ten thinking, running off outside camp? Luke was so overrun with emotion, that he was almost on the verge of doing something really stupid. 

“He’ll have to find his own way back,” Emily gritted out grimly between clenched teeth. “We can’t risk anyone else’s lives by looking for him. Do you know how dangerous that is?” 

“Ten could be lost,” Luke snarled. “He’s just a kid, Emily. Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave him out there?” 

“It’s the rules. It’s too dangerous.” 

“Emily!”

“Do you see anyone else out there looking for him?” She hissed, her fingers twisting further into his skin and making him bite back a grunt of pain. “It’s suicide. Ten knows the rules, and he knows the consequences. We can’t have a band of our own people marching out in there and shouting across the damn hills for him. We’d be a walking meal for the vampires, and we’d lead them straight to us.” 

Luke’s heart was pounding so hard in his ears, he could barely even hear her sickening justifications. And yet, there was still vengeful remorse eating away at his soul, because Ten would have never ran off if he hadn’t given him that bow. If he wasn’t someone Ten looked up to so much. His throat felt tight and hot. 

“It’s his birthday,” Luke breathed, his voice cracking. “I’ll go alone. I can find him and bring him back.” 

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “We aren’t vampire hunters, Luke.”

“You can spare one person,” he grit out. “He’s a child. How can you be so cruel?” 

Mary was still sobbing. The tent had gone still, and when Luke’s eyes flickered to the small handful of campers, they were all looking away guiltily, their eyes fluttering with admission. He almost barked with laughter. Everyone was a coward. 

“Maybe next time, you should be the one considering the consequences of your actions.” 

Luke’s eyes gleamed. “Excuse me?” 

Emily let go of his arm, and he roughly yanked it back. He could still feel the phantom sensation of her fingers digging uncomfortably into his flesh. “Go back to your tent, Luke. I don’t want to see you looking for him.” 

Was he insane? Why was he the only person who thought this was heartless? Ten may have ran off on his own accord in the middle of the night, but he was eleven years old. Yet the hardened expression on Emily’s face, the ruthlessness in her eyes and the cowardice complacency from everyone else in the camp, answered that very question. 

“Fuck you, Emily,” he breathed out, unbothered about her response. He turned and stormed out of there, leaving behind the faint sound of Mary’s bone wracking sobs to ring through his skull. His heart was hammering with a surge of pure adrenaline. 

All he wanted to do was grab his bow, get his quiver, and go out there to find Ten. 

To bring him back safely, so they could finally celebrate his birthday. Luke paused, releasing a livid, shaking sigh, his fingers twitching with the urge to hit something. As he passed the gate, he noticed a pair of beady eyed individuals staring intently at him. Luke walked on past. 

It was clear Emily had no intention to let him leave. 

Luke himself knew how dangerous it was out there. It was the reason why people didn’t look when campers decided to leave and never return. They could only imagine the sort of fate they’d succumbed to. Become lost, died naturally, killed by a vampire or snatched up by one of those blood suckers and whisked away to the kingdom. He knew Ten was a smart kid; smart enough to know that. 

He found himself anxiously running his hands through his hair again. He couldn’t stop wandering, not wanting to go back to his tent, but unable to grab his bow and just leave with Emily’s lackeys by the gate. 

News spread quickly around the camp. 

There was this sullen shadow that fell over all of them, and it felt almost quieter. So quiet, contrasted against the raging thoughts that wouldn’t shut up in Luke’s mind, stuck in his skull. He’d avoided Emily and just about anyone who wanted to talk to him, as the day passed by too quickly for his own liking. People were on the lookout for Ten, but there had been no sign of him. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was his birthday; they were meant to be celebrating. He was meant to be teaching him how to use his bow, chortle at him missing the targets and having a sulk over it, or claiming that one day, he would be a better hunter than Luke. 

His fingers crept to his necklace, squeezing the metal tight. The symbol felt like it was scorching into his palm, making his eyes squeeze shut. He hoped Ten was being just as brave as he knew he was. That he was safe, that he was fighting to find a way back. Praying that he hadn’t travelled far enough for some vampire to find him. He shuddered at the thought.  

When the sun began to dip under the horizon and the sky turned a dark blue, Luke had had enough. 

He grabbed his bow off the table, grabbed his quiver loaded with arrows, and left his tent with conviction in his steps. If he had to fight his way past Emily’s lackeys, then so what? He would find Ten - or die trying. He wasn’t going to give up on that kid, no matter the circumstance. 

Except when he went outside, the air growing chillier as the night crawled in, Luke was almost stopped dead in his tracks. All of the campers were gathered by the gate. He could hear hushed, high pitched whispering, and he instantly rushed over, not caring if he barged into some people to get past. When he finally made it to the front, his heart gave out. 

The gate was open. But standing there, was Ten. It wasn’t what terrified Luke the most. Because stood leisurely beside him, pale hand pinching the back of the kid’s neck in a firm hold, was a vampire. 

“Ten,” Luke breathed, and when he went to take a step forward, something grabbed his forearm firmly. He didn’t need to turn aside to see that it was Emily. He swallowed, throat burning, and forced his stiff legs back an inch. The vampire was tall, with short blond hair that he could have sworn was almost glistening under the remaining shreds of orange sunlight peeking over the horizon. Each strand looked perfectly placed, complimenting the smoothness of his pale skin. Those red eyes were dim, but intense. 

Luke swore his breath was forced out of his lungs when the vampire briefly made eye contact with him. 

“Is he yours?” The vampire drawled to the crowd of humans, patting the back of Ten’s neck gently. The kid was pale, his skin almost as white as the vampire’s beside him, and his eyes were fixated on…something. He wasn’t making any attempt to so much as look at Luke, or any of the campers, for that matter. He looked tense, and with a twitch of his brow, Luke noticed that his bow was broken in half, clutched in his arms to his chest. 

No one made a sound. 

No one dared to, and even Luke found that his throat had closed up considerably. The vampire cocked a brow, before his lips curved into a smirk. Luke saw the flash of fangs. 

“Maybe I should introduce myself first,” the creature hummed, and Luke’s chest tightened, fixated on the way the vampire’s thumb was gently stroking the back of Ten’s neck. “I’m Justinian Roch. I would have come in and delivered him myself, but, well…” 

He gestured to the air around them. 

“You’ve got this place set up rather nicely. I’m almost impressed.” 

Luke forced himself to look away, and hadn’t even realised he’d been gripping his bow so tight, his knuckles had gone white. The corner of his lip twitched, tilting his head towards Emily. 

“Who opened the gate?” He murmured in a low voice, but he could have sworn Justinian’s head tilted slightly, as if he could hear. 

“Ten was alone,” Emily responded quietly. “They opened the gate for him, but he wouldn’t come inside. I knew something was fishy. Then he showed up.” 

His eyes drifted back over to the vampire. He was smiling at Luke now, and he felt a shiver hurdle down his spine. Those beady, almost glowing eyes drifted down to his necklace. He was sure the grin almost stretched wider. 

“Do you want him back?” 

Even though the vampire was speaking to everyone, he was looking directly at Luke, and it almost felt as if the conversation was directed only towards him. With the protective rituals surrounding the camp, not even the vampire’s compulsion worked on them. There was no risk of making eye contact and allowing the vampire’s influence to seize his mind when nothing vampiric could pass into the camp. It must have been why Ten didn’t come inside when they opened the gate for him; Luke suddenly knew the reason why the kid’s eyes were so transfixed and glassy. 

He swallowed, his throat parched. Do you want him back? 

Luke’s fingers itched around his bow. The arrows weren’t made for vampires, and he wasn’t going to risk Ten’s life if Justinian decided to hurt him. The vampire’s eyes gleamed, as if he could sense the internal struggle that Luke was battling with. 

“Why don’t,” he drawled, flashing those fangs with a smug expression on his face,” you invite me in, hm?”

next

content warnings: animal hunting, mentioned vampire whump

It was so quiet in the forest. 

Luke couldn’t even hear the sound of his own, soft, even breathing as he concentrated on the taut pull of the bow string, methodically following the small trot of the deer. It was beautiful - its slender neck leaned down to sniff at the ground, ears twitching occasionally. 

He didn’t even blink, fearing even a flutter of his eyelashes would send the deer scurrying away. It lifted its head back, big, beady eyes observing its surroundings, before Luke struck. He let go of the arrow, and the deer didn’t have time to dart away before it landed in its neck, and he heard the distinctive thud of its body on the ground. 

Luke finally let himself breathe deeply, rising to his feet. The bushes around him rustled as he climbed over them, the snapping of twigs filling the expanse of the desolate forest as he approached with long strides. 

The deer was still breathing, and he gently set his bow down, dropping to one knee beside the creature. His hand gently lay across its torso, feeling the panicked, but slowing rise and fall of its ribcage as it took its final breaths. Luke squeezed his necklace, stroking the creature with such tenderness, staring at his reflection in its eye. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice small. The deer’s eyes clouded, and the animal beneath his hand went still. Luke sucked in a deep breath, letting go of his necklace and shucking off his bag. He made quick work of tying its legs, strapping the heavy creature over his back with practiced ease. 

He picked up his bow, and started making his way back before it got dark. The camp came into view quickly enough when he followed the markings he’d left to help him navigate the forest, and as he came down the hill, he noticed Ten sprinting towards him with his stumbling legs and big grin on his face. 

“Luke,” Ten squealed, circling around him to get a look at the deer on his back. “You hunted a deer!” 

Ten was an energetic kid, with his shaggy brown hair and freckled face. It was going to be his eleventh birthday tomorrow, and had insisted that Luke take him out for his first hunting lesson - the kid refused anyone else, and honestly, Luke was flattered. Ten was like a little brother to him, and he always felt happy that the kid admired him so much. 

“Don’t touch it,” he chastised, waving him in front of him where he could see, ushering him back to the camp. “That would be disrespectful.” 

“Oh, tell me you’re gonna save it for tomorrow,” Ten exclaimed, clasping his hands together as he added an energetic spring to his step, skipping backwards. “Please, please.” 

Luke rolled his eyes, playfully shoving him through the gate and back into the camp. A few people greeted him on the way in, and Ten had to pick up his pace in order to match his strides. 

“We’ll have to see what Rian says, alright?” He offered. “But don’t get your hopes up.” 

Ten pouted. “He’ll say no.” 

“Then you’ll have to live with that.” 

After passing off the deer to Rian, the bearded man gave him an appreciative thanks, yet Luke could sense there was indifference in his eyes as he glanced at the white spots on the deer’s neck. Luke had thought he’d been about to mention something about the forest, but he didn’t, and he swiftly left the tent with a sigh of relief. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Luke smiled, squinting as the sun spilled back over him. Ten immediately beamed up at him. 

“You’ll take me hunting with you?” 

He patted his head, shaking his head softly. Even if he was turning eleven years old tomorrow, that was not old enough to hunt anywhere, let alone the surrounding forests. As much as he knew how much Ten wanted to leave the camp, it was incredibly dangerous. He could never let him. He pushed open the flap of his tent, motioning for Ten to come inside. 

He happily made himself comfortable on the furs of his bed, and Luke couldn’t help but smirk softly. “No. I have something even better.” 

He leaned down behind one of the storage boxes, and carefully lifted up something wrapped in cloth. Ten sat up ethustically, his nose up in the air as he tried to lean to the side to get a good view of it. Luke unwrapped the string, peeling the cloth open to reveal a small, newly crafted bow. Ten gasped, shooting to his feet. 

“Is that a—” 

“Yes,” Luke smiled. 

“And that’s for me?” 

He chuckled. “Of course. Too small for me, isn’t it?”

The kid went to snatch it, but then stuck his hands back to his sides, and tried again. This time, he was a lot slower, cradling the bow like it was glass in his hands. His wide eyes were staring at it in shock, as if he couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Luke had sacrificed a lot to craft this bow for Ten. He was just glad that he liked it so much. 

“This is…amazing,” he breathed in awe, gently running his finger along the intricate carvings. Luke’s fingers ached just remembering how long it had taken. “What do these mean?” 

He tilted his head, pointing to the first one. “This symbol here is for bravery. This one is my mother’s. As long as you have it near you, it will always give you strength, and you’ll know that you’re not alone. Sometimes, it helps if you find things difficult. It’s like a comfort.” 

Ten slowly nodded his head, taking in everything he was saying. He kept the bow close, lips curling into a giddy smile, as if just realising that it was really going to belong to him. 

“You’ll teach me how to use it tomorrow, right?” He beamed, grinning from ear to ear. Luke nodded his head. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Of course I will.” 

Ten’s eyes glistened a little, and he threw his arms aroun Luke’s torso, burying himself into him in a tight hug. Luke’s heart skipped a beat, wrapping his arms around him in turn and giving his messy hair a small ruffle, chuckling softly under his breath. Ten squeezed him tight, as tightly as he could manage, and he didn’t even think about peeling away until a sharp voice called out his name. 

“Luke.” 

Ten lifted his head, and Luke swiftly rose to his feet, placing his hands on Ten’s shoulders just as a woman breached the tent, her expression stern and wrinkled in anger. Luke grit his teeth; he had a feeling he knew what this was about. 

“The Collared Forest, Luke,” Emily hissed, her words dripping with fracticousness. “Where were you thinking?” 

Rian, then. Of course he would tell her. Luke gave a quiet sigh, trying to keep his voice calm. “The deers are complacent. No one lives out there.” 

“You know why we don’t hunt there, Luke,” she snapped harshly. Emily was a tall woman, black braided hair and brown coloured skin. Her eyes were even a strange sort of hazel, almost making them seem orange when the sunlight hit them at a certain angle. It was fitting, considering she always looked like she had fire in her eyes when she was angry. 

“Emily, there are no vampires in the Collared Forest,” he gritted out. “There haven’t been for years.” 

Under his hand, he felt Ten flinch. His eyes instantly softened upon realising the argument was brewing in front of him, and a wave of regret washed over him. Emily’s eyes narrowed, yet she kept her mouth shut. 

“Ten,” he whispered softly, and the kid’s anxious eyes flitted up to him. “Just wait for me outside, okay? Go and play for a little bit. I won’t be long.” 

Ten swallowed, glancing uneasily at Emily, before she stepped out of the way of the entrance of the tent, closer to Luke. He watched Ten scurry out, leaving the two of them alone. Luke’s eyes instantly narrowed into a small glare. 

“A bow?” Emily breathed, her tone laced with bubbling anger. “You gave him a bow?” 

“It’s his birthday tomorrow.” 

“Don’t encourage another foolish imbecile to go into the Collared Forest.” 

Luke gawked at her. “Jesus, Emily. He’s not even old enough to leave camp. I know my way around the closest area of the forest. God knows we need the meat, unless you want us all to starve.” 

The woman’s lip curled into a snarl. He could sense she was trying not to raise her voice, lest the whole camp hear their argument. “You could have been followed.” 

“Vampires can’t get into the camp,” Luke frowned. “Not unless someone invites them in. You and I both know that no one is stupid enough to do that.” 

“You’re not getting it,” she heaved, prodding a finger against his shoulder as she stepped closer, his feet rooted to the ground. He felt his anger flare, but did nothing. “I don’t want the vampires to know where we are. Don’t you know what happened to the human camp across the Corpse River?”

Corpse River. It was many miles from their camp, and it would take weeks of walking just to make it there. It ran all the way to the kingdom of the vampires, and often, people would see the bloated corpses of dead humans, discarded by the vampires, being carried down by the stream, hence its name. Luke had never travelled far enough - it was forbidden. He wasn’t eager to find out if it lived up to its name or not either. 

On the other side, he was aware there was another human camp. His heart sank a little at the mention of them, swallowing uneasily. 

“What?” He breathed. 

Emily let out a sharp breath through her nostrils, her lips pressing into a thin line. “It was desimated by vampires five days ago. They slaughtered everyone within there.” 

Luke’s tongue went dry. “But, vampires can’t—” 

“It doesn’t matter,” Emily cut off, her brows furrwoing. “They also believed the vampires couldn’t get in. But they did. I will not have the same thing happen to our camp because of you.” 

Luke was still reeling over the fact that their camp had been destroyed. They had everything to ward off vampires, everything to keep them and their powers from straying inside, and their camps had been standing for years upon years. He didn’t know how it was possible. 

“We’re the last human camp,” he murmured softly under his breath, and suddenly the world felt that much smaller. Emily’s eyes softened, just an inch, but it was enough for her gaze to flicker from his face, a deep sigh to fall from her lips. She briefly glanced at the entrance of the tent, before patting his arm once firmly. 

“Stay away from the Collared Forest, Luke,” she warned, her voice firm. Luke bit the inside of his cheek, a grim expression falling across his face. “When we hit a shortage, maybe you should think about teaching Ten to fish instead.” 

She turned away from him, and he watched her go quietly as she left the tent, leaving him alone. His eyes drifted over to his own bow for a few moments, before collapsing down onto his bed, running a weary hand over the back of his skull. It wasn’t a life; being here was living in constant fear, not only of the vampires, but the lack of food and the terrible harvests that were rolling in. Now that the camp across Corpse River had been somehow completely eradicated? 

His hand drifted down to his face, rubbing his eyes. Luke was exhausted - he wasn’t really sure what he should do anymore. It was a cruel world with the existence of vampires, where all they were to them were animals or pets for them to play with. He’d heard horrific horror stories about the lives of human blood bags in the kingdom, and it wasn’t a life he wanted for himself. Luke didn’t want it for anyone. 

As the sun began to dip under the horizon and the sky began to darken, the camp turned in for the night, dousing out their fires and going quiet. Luke struggled to sleep, arms tucked under his head and staring absentmindly at his ceiling. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about what Emily said. 

Eventually, he rolled over, and willed himself to sleep. Just as he began to succumb to the comforting grips of sleep, Ten was quietly sneaking out of his tent, crossing the camp with tiny, soundless steps, his new bow gripped in hand. He had a quiver with a few arrows strapped to his back, squeezing himself through the bars of the gate, before rushing off towards the Collared Forest.

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content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, dehumanization, unethical medical practices, non-con drugging, torture, drug-induced torture, prison whump, reluctant whumper, manhandling, asphyxiation/strangling, mass prison breakout

Noah didn’t see Cash for a few days after that. 

He was limited to the laboratory, simply working on the drug, and he wasn’t sure what would have been worse. Having to test the drug on Cash himself, and watch the horrible effects of it, or stew in his guilt with each new lab experiment that passed by. 

Personnel had even ran by with a few files regarding their less than ethical methods, but he found that it made everything much worse. No matter how much tried to convince himself that somehow, he didn’t have a part in this, it didn’t ease the ache in his resolve. He tried to tell himself that if he had any choice, he wouldn’t be doing this. He wouldn’t be experimenting on people, he wouldn’t be subjecting Cash to awful drugs. 

He really did try, but it was hard. 

Fionn made things that little bit easier, he supposed. In the morning of their forbidden conversation, he had been more than surprised to find himself waking up, tucked back in bed. The water was on the small bedside table, and he had immediately reached for it to finish it off. They had both been cautious about speaking a word to each other for a while, but when they could, Noah found himself asking questions. 

Then more. Then another, until Noah had made a habit of accidentally fainting in his room and requiring assistance. He knew that what he was doing was imbecilic - he was risking his sister’s safe recovery, but Noah was so lonely, and he missed his friends and family. 

“Do you have any siblings?” Noah asked, sitting on the edge of the tub with a tilted head. He had a cold, damp cloth in his hands, something that he might have placed on his forehead if he had really been feeling unwell, but of course, he wasn’t. Nobody needed to know that, though. Fionn had his rifle slung over his shoulder, and he was perched on the edge of the toilet seat, lid down. Noah still didn’t have the liberty of seeing his face, but then again, that was a little too far. 

“No,” he answered, the modulation in his helmet crackling slightly. “I used to. An older brother, but he passed away.” 

Noah bit his lip. “I’m sorry.”

He’d learned a lot about Fionn in their frequent, but lowkey conversations. A part of him had been adament the Apoid wouldn’t keep indulging him like this, but he had. Noah suspected that a lot of people here would jump at the chance to have a normal conversation for once. Apparently, stoic Apoids were no exception. 

One of his favourtie things about Fionn was the fact that he liked poetry. 

It was a stark juxtaposition to the aura Apoids were meant to give off. Killing machines, steel guards, emotionless statues that had a job and followed it to the letter. When Fionn talked about poetry, it was easier to see the human underneath all of that uniform and behind all of those dangerous weapons. 

William Butler Yeats was his favourite. Fionn could sit there and recite his poetry perfectly, and Noah would listen with a subconscious smile on his face, because he could tell that he was really passionate about it. 

“Would you ever write your own poetry?” Noah had asked, picking at the threads on the damp flannel. His heart ached to see him take off the helmet. He could only imagine what kind of expressions he made when he talked about this.

Fionn faltered, shifting back slightly as the helmet tilted, mirroring a hesitant glance to the side. It was a sight he didn’t think he would ever get used to - seeing an Apoid show so much emotion through simple body language like this. 

It was cute. 

“I do,” Fionn answered, and Noah leaned forward slightly in a flurry of excitement he couldn’t contain. 

“Can you read some to me?” 

The Apoid seemed to think on it for a moment, before he slowly shook his head. “I don’t have enough time to write anything new.”

The answer was curt, and after Noah winced slightly, the helmet pointed back in his direction. The modulation softened just an inch. “And what I have is at home.” 

A familiar face stared back at him through the reflective screen of the helemt. “Where is home for you?” 

“Dungarvan,” the Apoid answered quietly. “My Pa’s a fisherman.” He paused just for a minute. “What about you?” 

“London,” Noah responded, and he noticed that Fionn shook his head slightly. 

“Busy place,” he hummed. “Not my scene.” 

“You like the quiet?” 

Fionn nodded slowly. “Once my contract is finished, and I know my family has enough money, I want to move. I want a cabin in the middle of the countryside, somewhere in Ireland.” 

The words came out quiter than Noah was expecting. “On your own?” 

When Fionn didn’t answer, Noah tucked some of his hair behind his ear gently. His gaze shifted to the cloth in his hand, and he set it in the tub instead. The Apoid passed him a hand towel to wipe the lingering dampness away, and he took it. For a moment, he felt his glove brush up against his finger, and when he glanced down, the skin there was burning red. 

“Do you not have a girlfriend back home?” Noah hesitantly asked, his eyes flickering up after a tense moment. The Apoid was already looking at him, and he suddenly felt sheepish for asking a question that was just meant to be curious. 

“I did,” he tightly responded, like he was treading on ice. “We had some disagreements over this. About me signing my life away to the Facility for ten years. We split up.” 

Noah slowly nodded his head, fiddling with the red spot on his hand. It was strange; after his last encounter with Cash, he felt like being here would be unbearable. He didn’t know what he felt towards Fion - friendship? Connection? Desperation? 

“You should come to Ireland,” Fionn perked up gently, and Noah couldn’t help but glance up at him with a hint of surpirse. The Apoid leaned his elbows on his legs, shifting an inch closer, and he couldn’t help but feel his stomach twist. “See my hometown. Do you fish?” 

“Me? Fish?” Noah splutters. “I’ve never fished in my life. I would be really bad.” 

“I’d teach you.” 

At that, Noah couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but the moment his mind raced a bit, it slowly faltered. He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes glancing to the bathroom door. They really shouldn’t still be doing this. 

“You have almost three years on me,” Noah whispered glumly, the ticking clock on their contracts weighing heavy on his chest. “Promise you won’t forget me when you get out?” 

Fionn slowly rose to his feet. He shrugged the rifle across his chest, and just for a moment, he looked like he was contemplating something. But then, a gloved hand gently patted his head. 

“Promise,” Fionn whispered, his voice softening. “See you later, Noah.” 

The Apoid was already out of his room by the time Noah found the strength in his voice to respond. He gripped his hand tightly. 

“See you.” 

. . .

Noah wasn’t looking forward to seeing Cash again.

He also wasn’t looking forward to seeing how effective the drug was at breaking down the prisoner’s defences and making him so vulnerable. He could conceal his anxiousness this time, even when Cash was brought in, same as always. Apoids surrounded him, ensuring his successful tranfer from one restraint to another.

This time, they made use of metal cuffs in the wall, clamping around Cash’s wrists and effectively pinning him to the wall.

Noah was a little concerned that his midsection and his legs hadn’t been retrained, but he assumed they’d neglected it for a reason. There was a nagging possibility that Cash could kick him, and those cuffs looked a little rattly, and what if the same thing that happened to the scientist before him repeated?

He swallowed the lump in his throat, setting down his clipboard and sucking in a sharp breath. He could do this. Cash wasn’t a person; he was a prisoner. A number. Someone who was withholding information the government wanted for themselves - the exact details, Noah would never know, but it wasn’t his job to know.

There was no interrogator today. He was glad for that.

With Fionn shadowing him, he internally noted the small brush of his arm against his own, a quiet action that held a thousand words. It hardened his resolve, just for a moment, and gave him the strength to step closer to the gagged man. Intense eyes pierced his own, but he looked elsewhere.

“I’m removing the gag,” Noah firmly spoke, inching slightly closer to Cash. He noticed the muscles in his arms tensed just a fraction, but he didn’t seem eager to attack Noah at the moment. It was still tense as he untied the gag, taking a small step back so he was far enough away.

“I’m going to ask a series of questions, so please answer honestly for your own wellbeing.”

He squeezed his hand behind his back, watching as Cash licked his lips. There was only coldness behind those eyes.

“Sure, doc.”

He cleared his throat. “Are you feeling any dizziness or lightheadness?”

“No,” the prisoner responded coldly, before he tilted his head slightly. “How long have you been here, doc?”

Noah ignored the question, keeping his wits about him. “Have you been experiencing any pain?”

“You don’t seem comfortable with this,” Cash continued regardless, and Noah’s eyes flickered slightly. “This new for you?”

“Answer the question.”

Cash chuckled breathlessly. There were still evident bruises on his face, but they’d had time to simmer down a lighter green colour instead. He tried not to let his eyes linger on them too much, otherwise his guilt would begin to stew. “No, doc.”

Noah stepped aside to administer the drug. It felt like he wasn’t quite holding the needle as he efficiently prepared for it, his mind lost and swimming with a cotton sheet over his thoughts.

In a blink, he was inserting the needle into Cash’s neck carefully, pushing the plunger in with precision and care. He remembered when he was practicing the precedure on synthetic skin during his time at medical school. Noah was baffled that this was what his life had devolved into. He refused to meet Cash’s eyes this time, who hadn’t even winced at the pinprick.

It didn’t take long for the effects of the drug to kick in like that last time.

Sweat built up on Cash’s forehead in little beads, and his expression had visibly hardened as he attempted to ignore the throbbing pains that had started spreading throughout his body. This time, Noah was forced to watch every second, comparing the effects of the last compound to the new one on Cash’s body. The prisoner was tense, his wrists straining against the cuffs as he groaned painfully through clenched teeth, Noah’s guilt only prodding harder at his heart.

It felt just as wrong as the last time. Noah tentatively approached him and checked his pulse, practically hearing the rapid pounding of Cash’s heart in his chest. He dabbed the soaked area around his neck, cautious of his buckling knees. It looked like he could hardly stand now, so Noah assumed he wouldn’t have the strength to use his legs even if he tried.

The skin on his wrists had been rubbed raw, and Noah could just catch a glimpse of a flash of blood beneath them.

Through Cash’s strained, gutteral curses, Noah sensed the moment it began to wear off, which was quicker than he had expected. He pressed his lips into a thin line, adding that to his notes with a swift scribble. When he went to draw his blood with a fresh needle, he tried to ignore Cash’s contagious trembling, and the way his wrists were straining firmly against the cuffs.

They would hold, right? Cash was strong, but surely he wasn’t that strong. There were Apoids with guns ready to fire if they did break.

He carefully inserted the needle, drawing a small vial of blood. It made his stomach swoop straight to his boots when Cash shuddered, and he turned away to the long desk to shift through his supplies. He blocked out the sound of Cash’s pained panting, before he went to administer another dose.

Two doses, Personnel had told him. That was a big risk.

His prisoner reacted much worse to the second dose, thrashing against the cuffs and desperately clenching his jaw. He looked as though he was forcing himself not to scream, squeezing his eyes shut as Noah could only imagine what kind of pain this was bringing him.

The second dose lasted a few minutes longer, but that was all.

After he emptied the syringe of blood into a small vial, he set it aside and prepared to sample another. He had to wipe a sheen of his own anxious sweat before he wandered over, reminding himself to breathe.

This time, Cash winced when the needle slid into his skin. Noah concentrated in drawing the blood safely while he was in his state, and he was rather lucky, because Cash gave a violent jerk at the cuffs only when it was finished.

He barely even had time to register the snapping of metal before a voice split through the air urgently.

“Doctor, get out of the way!”

Something constricted around his throat, and Noah felt the hard slam of the wall against his back. The needle fell from his fingers and crashed onto the ground, but he had barely even registered it from the force that had bounced through his skull.

Apoids lunged forward, their guns raised almost immediately towards the prisoner, his fingers digging into Noah’s throat. He couldn’t even catch his breath, his hands scrambling at his wrist in an attempt to get the air to his lungs.

Noah faintly realised it had been Fionn who shouted, and he was at the center of the swarm, rifle raised defensively. Cash had moved so swiftly, even with the drug, that no one could fire at him without hitting Noah.

He wheezed, wide eyes staring into Cash’s narrowed ones.

“You’re a little slow to move, doc,” he hissed, the exhausted strain still evident in his voice. His fingers tightened, pushing Noah’s head back further against the wall.

Fionn’s voice boomed through the room, and he barely noticed more Apoids spilling into the room. There was the faint sound of an alarm.

“Cooperate now, Prisoner Seven,” he demanded, causing Cash’s head to languidly tilt towards them all. He didn’t look bothered, and that was scary. Noah could only think about the fact that he was going to die. That Cash was going to kill him like he killed the other scientist before him.

He was suddenly jerked forward, and Cash’s arm winded around his neck instead, tugging him back against his chest. The arm was crushing his windpipe, with a force intended to suffocate him. Noah’s eyes buldged, and his nails raked desperately into his skin. A wheezing choke escaped him.

Cash’s lips lowered to his ear just as Fionn shouted another firm order to cooperate. All of those guns pointed in his direction made his heart pound, and he could hear it consuming his mind.

“When I get out of here,” Cash growled, his voice so quiet and deadly that no one else could hear,” I’m going to find you, doc. I’m going to make you wish I’d killed you right here, right now.”

Tears spilled down Noah’s cheeks, his lungs burning like wildfire. He could feel his knees buckling and the cotton building in his skull. Cash wasn’t budging, even when Noah’s vision began to blur around the edges. He desperately gasped for air, but he couldn’t find it.

All the Apoids were blending into one little blob. Was he really going to die? After everything?

Fionn’s voice tore through the room again, this time more fiery than ever before.

“The scientist is expendable,” came his voice, and Noah’s foggy brain latched onto that. What? “We will open fire if you do not cooperate!”

The scientist is what?

Cash chuckled darkly. “Hear that, doc? That’s what they said when I had the other one like this. She had the same look on her face as you do right now. Give it another ten seconds and he’ll repeat it.”

Noah’s trembling fingers dug into the skin of his arm.

“Cooperate, now. We will open fire!” Fionn shouted, and all of their fingers shifted to the trigger. They were really going to shoot. “The scientist is expendable!”

Noah wheezed, his burning eyes rolling to the back of his head. Only then did Cash release him, shoving him towards the guards with a harsh push. He immediately felt himself hit the ground, frantically sucking in any scrap of air he could find.

He heard a defeaning amount of commotion, but he was more focused on the gentle hands on his back and someone murmuring into his ear.

“Breathe,” Fionn instructed, setting his arm over his shoulder so he could help him onto his feet. Noah spluttered, each violent cough feeling as though it was tearing him apart. Once Fionn had guided him away from the commotion, he eased him back down onto the floor, where Noah desperately sucked in any mouthful of air he could.

His nerves were on fire. But he couldn’t stop thinking about one thing.

“Are you alright?” Fionn asked, as if Noah didn’t feel like his world had been turned on his head.

“The scientist...is expendable?” He croaked, his tear filled eyes flickering up to the black visor with a hint of anger. Fionn went still.

“I have to follow protocol,” he answered curtly, and Noah’s trembling fingers cup his neck, like one little touch and the skin would break. He feels like he can still feel Cash’s hand wrapped around it, and he has to pause to take another wheezing breath.

“You were going to shoot me,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “You were all going to shoot me.”

Fionn’s head tilted slightly, and Noah was reminded of all the time they spent in his bathroom, talking about poetry and family and breaking the rules just so they could feel normal again. Fionn’s robotic voice was the only thing echoing in his mind right now, but Cash’s lingered.

That’s what they said when I had the other one like this.

“I have to follow protocol,” Fionn spoke, and Noah sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

“You break protocol to talk to me.”

“That’s different,” he snaps, and neither are paying attention to anybody else in the room. “This was an emergency. A prisoner was loose.”

“You were going to shoot me.” Noah hadn’t realised that more tears were leaking down his face. His desperate, wide eyes stared up at him as his voice broke. “Weren’t you?”

The Apoid shifted. The silence was all the answer that Noah needed, but Fionn still murmured out one that struck straight through his heart.

“Yes,” he nodded. “It was my job. I would have had to.”

Noah’s bottom lip wobbled. He knew that Apoids had different protocol because of their vastly different job, but in the idea of an emergency like that - the scientist was expendable?

“What happened to taking me to see Ireland?” He choked out, and Fionn’s voice hardened inexplicably.

“Quiet. Don’t say that here,” he hissed. “You can’t be mad at me. My hands are tied.”

He knew that Fionn was right.

But right now, after that? After he’d been so helpless in his grasp, feeling the heat of all of those rifles on him, realising that they would tear through him without a care once Cash refused to cooperate; it made his heart burn. Because Fionn could have at least lied.

Personnel rushed into the room, and they first checked that all of Noah’s notes and samples were safe. Then, they flocked to the two of them once the room was cleared of any dangers, both Apoid and Prisoner Seven.

Noah shoved Fionn away. He wasn’t even strong enough to make him budge like this, but the Apoid moved away regardless.

“Stay away from me,” Noah demanded, his trembling voice thick as he stuttered with another wheezing cough. “Don’t ever come near me again.”

One woman gently helped him up, and another kept a supporting hand on his back.

“Come on, let’s go to the infirmary,” one suggested gently, urging him along. Noah could barely put one foot in front of the other, his knees wobbling slightly with each movement. He noticed Personnel were glancing between him and Fionn awkwardly. “It’s alright now. Prisoner Seven has been secured.”

Alarmingly, it wasn’t just Cash that he realised could get him killed in this place.

He was vaguely aware of Fionn following them to the infirmary. It didn’t make him happy in the slightest, but he recognised that he had a job as his personal Apoid, as much as Noah couldn’t maintain that same sentiment for what had happened.

He was taken care of in the infirmary, mainly his wounds, before they let him go. Noah didn’t know what to do with himself, and after spending so long in the infirmary, he suddenly realised that Fionn was no where to be seen.

Noah swallowed uneasily.

Fionn couldn’t just leave the scientist he was assigned to, right? Yet, as he wandered alone down the corridors to his room, he noticed an Apoid near the door. A part of him knew that it was Fionn, but he was more concerned with the fact that a Higher Up seemed to be speaking with him.

With both of their masks on, Noah couldn’t get a sense of what was going on. He was too far away to hear them, and when the Higher Up curtly walked away, Fionn tilted his head towards him. Noah awkwardly shifted when he began to approach him.

He opened his mouth to say his name as he passed. “Fionn?” But the Apoid walked straight past him. Noah’s head whipped around to watch him go, and he suddenly felt his stomach drop to his boots.

What was going on? Why had he been talking to a Higher Up?

Numbly closing the door behind him, Noah stripped off his white jacket, and caught a glimpse of his guilty expression in the mirror. He looked ghostly pale, with a ring of fresh bruises around his neck, but he could only think about one thing.

Had he got Fionn terminated?

He desperately shook his head, his exhausted eyes glimpsing at the tube of cream on his bedside table. It felt quiet without Fionn in here, and even worse when he tried to sleep off the chaotic events of the day.

Regardless, he didn’t sleep a wink. All he could see was down the barrels of rifles and the sickening spray of bullets ripping through his flesh.

Noah’s eyes stung painfully when the lights came up, and he almost considered pulling the blanket over the top of his head and wallowing by himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about the aching pain in his neck, the leftover bruises a plum purple, or the fact that Fionn had left after talking to a Higher Up.

It made it all the more worse when he didn’t see him outside his door.

The guilt tore into him, because what if he had really gotten Fionn fired? After everything he had told him about his family, about why he was here, and he forced him back to the surface with nothing? Noah released a shuddering breath, heading to the labatory.

On the way, he was greeted by Personnel.

“Oh, Noah.”

They stopped him, and he stilled when he noticed a quiet Apoid hovering behind them. He stared at the black visor uneasily, but a part of him was confident that wasn’t Fionn. Their words only confirmed it.

“Due to certain circumstances, you’ll be receiving a new Apoid from today onwards,” Personnel informed him politely, motioning towards the guard with a slight nod. Noah couldn’t hide the unease on his face, as well as the confusion. When he went to open his mouth to speak, to question what on earth was going on, the room was suddenly plunged into redness.

A blaring alarm screeched out over the speakers, and Noah felt his head whip around to find other scientists had similarly frozen in their spots, a look of horror on their faces.

His heart lurched into his throat.

On the speakers, a warning rang out.

A warning that made Noah’s blood run iciliy cold.

“Code: Black.”

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, dehumanization, non-con drugging, unethical medical practices, interrogations, violence, blood, slight gore, torture, drug-induced torture, reluctant whumper

Noah realised, with a somewhat growing feeling of discomfort, that his Apoid was right. 

When he was escorted to his room, the first thing he noticed was that all of his things had been tranfered from Level One and neatly placed in their respective spots. All of his books were organised and stacked onto his shelves, and his clothes were hanging up and folded in drawers when he had a quick peek. There was never anything decorative or special about their rooms; the scientists spent the most important part of their days in the laboratory or with patients.

He jabbed the lock on with a sudden echausted sigh. He hadn’t even realised it at the time, but he’d been so tense that his muscles were almost aching. He forced his shoulders to slouch, eager to peel his white jacket off and dump it in the laundery basket.

He was more tired than he realised.

His eyelids were drooping and the enticing looking bed was becoming more tempting by the second. 

It wasn’t much different to his room on Level One, but there was more privacy. He switched the light on in the bathroom and realised it was all for himself. He fiddled with the shower before stripping off all of his clothes, and hopping in. It was steaming hot against his sticky skin, but it felt nice to scrub off all the stress grime that had built up. When he was done, he got himself ready just as the lights dimmed by themselves. 

That was usually the time he was supposed to be asleep. 

Maintaining a healthy sleep schedule was greatly encouraged in the Facility, and who was Noah to argue with the simplist of rules? He wasn’t eager to get terminated so early on over something so silly.

As his head hit the pillow, his thoughts unwillingly drifted towards Cash— or no, Prisoner Seven. They weren’t meant to know their names, otherwise that would humanise them too much. Noah had been told that these men and women were anything but human, having done unspeakable things. He tried to keep clinging onto that thought as he drifted off to sleep, dreamless and relatively pleasant. 

He was harshly awoken hours later when the lights brightened up again, and a small, sleepy groan escaped his lips. He clambered onto numb legs, untwisting them as he made his way into the bathroom, the cold tiles biting into his bare feet. He cleaned himself up until he was refreshed, and slipped into his normal attire. A white coat draped over his frame, and he looped his new lanyard around his neck. This time, it had a large number nine instead of one. His stomach swooped, before tearing his eyes away anxiously. 

Maybe he would feel better after some food. 

When he opened his door and turned the corner, he wasn’t expecting to bump into something hard. His feet skittered backwards slightly, and his head snapped up in shock to be met with an Apoid standing by his door. From the way he turned to look at him, Noah was swiftly able to deduce that this was his Apoid, the one that was apparently assigned to him. His foul mood suddenly came bursting in, and he couldn’t help but frown in annoyance. 

“You,” he dryly muttered under his breath, staring at the face completely hidden by the blackened visor of his mask. “What are you doing outside my room?” 

He’d asked the question on instinct, but again, he hadn’t been expecting the Apoid to actually respond. The modulation in his voice made his spine tingle again. 

“I’m assigned to you,” he spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to be heard. “Personally.” 

Noah anxiously fiddled with his white collar. He knew that, of course, but his stomach was tightening from hunger and he didn’t feel like standing around like a log for much longer, staring at a faceless guard. He swerved around him, feeling a twinge of annoyance when he started following closely behind. His steps were slower and much more measured than his own.

“So does that mean you’re going to follow me around everywhere?” 

The guard was quiet now. Noah couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Then how about you at least tell me your name?” He tested hesitantly, glancing behind him for a brief second as he walked towards the direction of the refectory. “Since you’re not going to leave me alone for a while.” 

The Apoid shook his head. “I’m not authorised to tell you that.” 

“You’re also not authorised to speak to me, and definetly not in front of other patients,” he countered. “But you did that anyway. You’re doing it right now.” 

The modulation grew sharper, exemplifying his annoyed tone. “That was different. It was necessary.” 

“And?” Noah shrugged, stopping just before the corner to turn and glance up at him. “You know my name. You’re my Apoid, why can’t I know yours? Who’s going to know?” 

The Apoid stepped closer, prompting Noah to back up in a flurry of fear. “Keep moving,” he growled, and only spoke when they had cleared the corner, and resumed their original pace. “It’s Fionn.” 

Noah’s eyes perked up. 

“Are you—?” He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Is that Irish?” 

“I’m not authorised to tell you that.” 

His smile faltered. It was strange to even hold such a delicate piece of personal information on somebody like an Apoid, who he always saw as black blocks of protocol and intimidation. He was eager to ask him more questions, but as they approached the refectory, it became busier along the wide corridors, and Noah wasn’t going to risk getting caught breaking protocol.

It was a little uncomfortable to have Fionn hovering over him while he ate, but Noah noticed that some other scientists had Apoids hovering beside them too. Fionn had even nudged him gently and quietly asked if he’d taken his supplements. 

Noah had forgotten, and he went to retrieve them. Seeing as he was maintaining Noah’s health, the small conversation they exchanged wasn’t a problem. 

Personnel came to retrieve him quickly enough. 

He was taken to the laboratory where he found himself quietly working on the drug that would later be used for Cash’s scheduled time in the torture room. There were other scientists present in the big room as well, but Noah had swiftly learned to keep his head down and dilegently match their vigorous work effort.

Fionn was close by, and although it had put him off at first while he worked, time sped by quicker than it ever had before. He had been working on the toxicity of a liquid form of this drug which was labelled TN-6, when Personnel came to collect his again. 

Noah’s sense of time was so warped, he wasn’t exactly sure how much time had really passed. 

He could feel his heart starting to pound in his chest as he moved through the layout of the hallways, back to that sordid room where he was first taken. He’d taken a sample of the TN-6, as requested by Personnel, making sure to take the one with less toxicity. He assumed the point of the session today would be to test to natural defences Cash’s body would impliment when infected by the drug, as well as monitor how it affects his vitals. 

That’s what Noah assumed until he saw an interrogator waiting in the torture room. They always wore dark orange bands around their arms to signify their job, as well as a dark balaclava mask over their faces to hide their indentities. Noah had never seen one before, since Level One was incredibly tame and torture was barely required. He lowered his things down on the desk against the wall, eyeing up the prepared tools for him to use. 

Practically similiar to yesterday. 

Instead of a table in the middle of the room, there was a chair fixed with strong metal cuffs on the arms and ankles. The interrogator was leaning against the wall, arms folded and finger tapping periodically. Two Apoids flanked the door as usual, and Fionn had stayed very close to his side the entire time. He eyed the big machine, no doubt for him to hook Cash up to to monitor his vitals. 

Noah let out a shuddering breath. Shit. 

He’d never witnessed an interrogation like this. Not with an actual interrogator. Part of him was unnerved that a drug he’d hardly tested was being used on him already, especially knowing the possible consequences of it. Then again, if Cash went into critical condition, it would be Noah’s job to nurse him back to health in the infirmary. At that thought, his nerves were suddenly set alight. 

Even as Cash was escorted inside, and restrained to the chair without so much of a challenge, his head was still swimming with a mirage of different thoughts. It wasn’t until he met the hardened eyes of the interrogator that he realised he was meant to proceed.

The Apoids had already stripped Cash of his shirt, telling him they’d probably already been briefed on what was going to happen. He had to steady the tremble in his fingers as he worked, hooking his patient up until everything seemed to be working as it should. 

Cash was staring at him again like last time. 

For some reason, it was really puting him off. Perhaps it was because this was going to be his first time witnessing whether the rumours about Level Nine were true. That the constant, brutal torture made prisoners believe that death was a mercy. 

He carefully checked over his notes. He used a sharp syringe and measured out a small dosage. Noah’s head felt incredibly light as he wiped down a puncture point and prodded for a vein, keeping his hand steady and breath even. 

For just a second, he hesitated.

Cash’s voice was quiet next to him. “Don’t hesitate now, doc.” 

Noah grit his teeth, and slowly injected the drug into his body. He ignored his piercing eyes as he straightened up, taking his spot beside the wall by Fionn. He noticed a slight movement as his masked gaze followed him, but of course, he was as silent as ever. 

Watching the interrogation reminded him that nothing could have prepared him for the brutal violence and ruthlessness. Cash already reacted instantly to the drug, and Noah noted down every little thing he could see in his whirring, fuzzy brain. Dilated eyes. Sweating. Claminess. Shortess of breath. Papaltations. The interrogator violently bloodied up his face despite his vulnerable state, not holding back as he spat questions and derogatory language that even had Noah wincing. 

It was a hard pill to swallow. 

It settled unpleasantly in the bottom of his stomach, turning sour and uneasy. 

The amount of times he wanted to step forward and put an end to it launched itself from his heart more times than he could count. No matter how much he kept his eyes on the machine or the notes clutched in his hands, he still couldn’t erase the noise of Cash’s painful torture, his teeth grinding together as he fought back against the agony.

It seemed to last forever, too, but Noah had completely zoned out. He remembered some of the words from the scientists from Level One; “toughen up now”. He realised he wasn’t prepared, nor ready for this.

Once the effects of the drug wore off, the interogator wiped off his bloody fists, cursing angrily under his breath. Cash’s hair was disheveled and messy, sticking to his clammy forehead. He was panting hard, rigid, tense limbs trembling under the restraints.

Fionn had to gently nudge his side to snap him out of his spinning thoughts.

Noah remembered how to breathe, very suddenly, as well as the rules that came crashing into him.

He set his clipboard down, and went to tend to Noah. He gently lifted his head back, shining a small torch into his eyes, watching as they barely shrank to accommodate the glaring light. He swallowed, shakily opening his mouth to speak.

“Can you look at my finger and follow it, please?” He asked softly under his breath, just for Cash to hear. He eventually did so, but kept scrunching his eyes in an attempt to see better. Probably dizzy. Noah noted all of that down.

He even found himself folding a small square piece of cloth, and dabbing away the sweat soaking Cash’s forehead. It was building up everywhere, down his neck, soaking over his bare torso, but Noah opted to keep his hands occupied with his damp hair instead.

“Are you okay?” He whispered before he could stop himself.

He knew protocal was delicate and he shouldn’t even be thinking about asking if a prisoner was okay, but he couldn’t help himself. Even with his tongue all twisted and tied, this was something surreal. Cash didn’t respond. How could Noah expect him to after that? He sucked in a sharp breath, diligently mopping up his sweat with shaking hands. 

He had to pull himself together. Even though there was only the sound of Cash’s slurred, ragged breathing, it felt like everyone was watching him. He pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“I’m going to take him the infirmary,” Noah decided, levelling the convinction in his voice. He turned to both the Apoids and the interrogator. “Can we please transfer him to a free wing?” 

Like clockwork, the Apoids moved into action. Considering this was Noah’s expertise, if the scientist wanted to conduct in the infirmary, then they were allowed to. More Apoids flooded in, and Noah waited patiently as they rolled out a gurney, fastened with those same cuffs and leather straps. He remained planted where he was, suddenly hearing a quiet noise from Cash. 

Noah spun around, his eyes wideneing slightly. Cash’s face was crinkled in pain, and the sweat had come back in force. His lips wobbled again, and Noah leaned forward, bracing a hand on his shoulder. 

“Cash,” he whispered, and then promptly corrected himself. This was a prisoner. They weren’t people and they didn’t deserve names. His expression hardened. “Are you okay? Could you speak up and tell me what’s wrong?” 

Another breathy wheeze, but Noah could sense he was trying to say something through the bruises and remains of the drug in his system. His heart twisted in guilt; it was hard to stomach. He leaned in closer, straining to make out those grumbled words. It was his job that his patient was in good condition, and that helped when he had feedback. 

But apparently, feedback wasn’t what Cash had in mind at all. 

Before he knew it, Fionn had surged forward, and the air was knocked out of Noah’s lungs when his arm violently shoved him away. Gloved fingers grasped awkwardly into his arm, digging into the flesh, and Noah winced as his watery eyes glanced up. Cash was straining against the restraints, his face twisted in anger and his teeth bared viciously, suddenly much more lucid than he seemed to be before. 

Black Apoids converged on the scene like little bugs, and Fionn ushered Noah protectively away from him. When he realised he was gripping his arm tightly, he let go, black mask tilting in his direction. He looked as though he was going to say something, but then stiffened, and turned away. 

Noah swallowed the dry lump in his throat. Guns were pointed directly in Cash’s direction, and he caught the glimpse of a needle heading for his neck. In a beat of adrenaline, he surged forward. 

“Don’t,” he snapped, causing the Apoid to stop. “I don’t trust the effect a sedative will have on his health. Let him calm down; in his condition, he can’t put up a fight.” 

He wasn’t quite sure why, but he was shocked that the Apoid listened to him so quickly. The needle, that had just been hovering dangerously by his patient’s exposed neck, disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Noah let out a sigh of relief, stepping back to clear the space so they could effectively transfer him over to the gunrney. Although Cash was tense and looked ready to bolt, he was no match for the Apoids. He was successfully restrained down to the gurney, blindfolded and gagged, despite Noah not being pleased with that, and swiftly wheeled down in the direction of the infirmary. 

Noah let out a heavy sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging. He gently rubbed the sore spot on his arm, cursing his ignorance and almost getting himself killed. Getting too close to a patient like that was stupid, and almost rule number one in the Facility. He was so stupid. 

A voice caught him off guard. He hadn’t even noticed that the room had almost cleared out, Cash’s disappearance easing the thick fog of tension that had built up. 

“Are you okay?” Fionn asked quietly, and Noah stepped away from him, his heart pounding. For some reason, it was all the way in his throat. This had shaken him to his very core. 

“I’m fine,” he snapped, hurrying for the door. He tried to ignore the guards posted on the doors, or the fact that Fionn was shadowing him as he went. Except, it seemed with every footstep of his Apoid, his heart yearned to match it. One step, two step, one beat and another beat. He took a deep breath, and soon, Noah felt like he’d shaken off some of that crawling pressure. 

Personnel in charge of the infirmary made him confirm Cash’s time of arrival and wing, before he was allowed to take care of his patient. He was strapped down securely, and against the stark white curtains and beds and furniture, he had the opposing blackness of Fionn and two other Apoids to keep him company. Cash remained relatively subdued for the most part, where Noah made sure his health would remain positive and monitered his vitals for any adverse effects. The next day, he could implement his research into improving the compound. 

He rubbed his eyes wearily. He was doing this for a reason; he had to keep reminding himself of that. Every day he worked was another day for his sister. 

Noah made sure Cash was checked in overnight, giving him plenty of time to recover, and was finally scheduled to go back to his room for rest. He considered keeping himself busy with some exercise, but he decided going to sleep early would do him some good. Before he stepped into the threshold of his plain room, his shadow spoke once again. 

“Hey.” 

Noah blinked, turning around with heavy eyes. It was easy to forget that his Apoid was behind him every step of the way. He squinted at him. Fionn was frozen for a moment, before his hand dipped into his pocket, and he tossed him something small. Noah scrambled to catch it. 

“For your arm,” he spoke quietly, as if anyone could overhear him. He was stepping out of line doing this, Noah realised as he glanced at the small tube he’d given him. It was a soothing cream. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that.”

Noah looked up. “You mean…for doing your job? It was my fault I got too close.” 

Even though there was nothing but black behind that helemt, and Fionn held himself in a way that indicated no body language, he was sure he could sense the change of expression. The doctor bit the inside of his cheek, smiling gratefully up at him. 

“But thanks,” he mumbled. “You know you’re not allowed to do that.” 

Fionn didn’t move. “I know.” 

“You’re full of surprises, Fionn,” Noah laughed breathlessly, and he gripped the cream firmly in his hand. “I’m going to get some sleep I think.” 

The Apoid tilted his head. “You have two hours to spare.” 

“I know,” he sighed. He was exhausted, and he needed to sleep on what had happened today. His mind was all over the place. “I need the extra hours. Sorry for making you wait outside.” 

He assumed that when the lights went down and it was his schedule kicked in, Fionn would almost rest and sleep the hours away until he was up early and ready outside Noah’s door for when he had to work in the lab. Noah only assumed that he’d be making Fionn wait outside for a couple hours before that happened. 

“It’s my job,” Fionn responded coolly, and motioned for himself to leave. Noah considered wishing him a good night, but that would more than likely be inappropiate. Before he could think about it, the door slid shut, and he was left in silence. A loud, heavy sigh fell from him, and after peeling off his clothes and changing into comfortable ones, he collasped on his bed, and fell fast asleep. 

That didn’t last long, however. 

Noah was tortured by horrific nightmares. All he could hear were bone chilling screams, feel coppery blood dripping off his hands, and cold dead bodies by his feet. He had tried to race over them, staggering over bloated corpses, all while Cash’s writhing and injured face haunted his mind. He’d done that; subjected him to that awful torture. 

Before he knew it, he was scrambling out of his bed, slick with sweat and a scream dying on his lips. His fingers dug into his throat, desperately trying to suck in some air, and blearily looked around his room. The lights were still on. Did that mean—? 

He stumbled to the door. When he opened it and poked his head round, Fionn was still standing there. It mustn’t have been that long, and Noah ran a shaking hand through his hair, slick with clammy sweat. 

“Fionn?” He croaked, and the mention of his name made the soldier’s head turn, alert. He blocked the doorway, keeping his voice a low rumble as he spoke. 

“Don’t adress me by name like that,” he warned, his voice going deadly, but still with an ounce of concern upon seeing Noah’s disheveled figure. “What’s wrong?” 

He sucked in a sharp breath. He still felt jittery and uncomfortable, like he’d look over his shoulder and see mangled, putrid corpses gurgling his name. He ran another hand through his hair, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I just had a nightmare,” he admitted. Fionn didn’t respond, because why would he? He and Noah were both trained vigorously to follow protocol, those being that they weren’t allowed to know any more about each other than what it said on a scientist’s name tag. Yet, this had all been a spiralling shit show, and he couldn’t handle it. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 

The Apoid didn’t move. Didn’t even tilt his head. “There’s nothing I can do.” 

Noah stared at him pleadingly. “Fionn,” he choked. “I won’t be able to sleep. I just can’t. Can’t you just…” 

Fionn was a stranger. But he was less of a stranger than anybody else in this place. 

“I cannot enter your room unless it’s an emergency,” he murmurs quietly, and Noah’s head throbs. He lets out an aggravated huff. 

“That’s so stupid,” he hisses, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “This is an emergency. Please, I just need ten minutes.” 

Silence. It was like staring at a statue, and Noah gave another huff, pressing his palms against the back of his eyes until he saw stars. He grumbled under his breath, trying to ignore the stinging tears of frustration at his eyes.

Noah would just have to make an emergency then. 

He looked around the room, and took a few steps back, clearing his throat. It forced him to relax an inch, taking his mind off all those horrifying images beneath his eyelids whenever he blinked. He picked a good spot, and then stared at Fionn blankly.

“Oh, no,” he flatly exclaimed, turning in a circle slowly on the spot. “I feel dizzy, Fionn. I think I’m going to fight.” 

Cold silence greeted him, but he was committed. He made a convincing moaning noise, holding his head woozily. Noah pretended to sway, elegantly placed himself on the ground, and then slumped into an unceromonius position. He even heard a sigh coming from Fionn, and it almost made him laugh. 

“That’s not going to work, Noah,” Fionn spoke, and it was the first time he had uttered his name since they’d met. Still, Noah didn’t move. Silence sprouted in the air for eight seconds (he was counting) before Fionn spoke again, this time, his voice breaching with annoyance, and no modulation could hide that. 

“Noah,” the Apoid sighed, and he forced himself not to laugh. “Noah?” 

Then there was another sharp sigh, and footsteps started towards him. When the door slid shut behind Fionn, Noah opened his eyes, and finally sat up, smiling up at him. Gloved hands settled on his shoulders and helped him up to his feet, and Noah realised that his heart wasn’t racing so much anymore. The adrenaline had simmered down, and didn’t feel so hot around the collar. He glanced up at the Apoid, surpressing the smile. 

“Both of our contracts are going to be terminated,” Fionn murmured in warning, guiding Noah to the bed. He helped him take a seat, and moved to grab a bottle of water. He took it with a sly smile, chuckling breathlessly. 

“You know I didn’t actually feel dizzy,” he joked, but gratefully took a swig, the cold water seeping into his bones and cooling him down. He released a quiet breath, wiping his forehead carefully and relaxing into the mattress below him. His smile faded, only for a moment, and Fionn’s head tilted as he watched him. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks quietly. Noah looks up at him through his eyelashes. 

“A little better,” he admits, keeping the bottle close. It feels cool against the skin of his palm. “I knew that Level Nine had a reputation, but…” 

He trails off, the words dying uselessly on his tongue. 

“I thought that it wouldn’t be this bad,” he whispers softly, staring at his lap as his lips curved into a frown. “I thought that the reason why I was here would make it so much easier, but - it doesn’t. I don’t have the guts for this place.” 

Fionn is quiet, just listening to Noah’s words. When he wipes his eyes, he notices that he’s stepped closer, and he takes a seat next to him on the bed, his rifle slung over his back. Noah stares at his own reflection in the blackness of the visor.

“I’m doing this for my Ma and Pa,” he tells him, his voice ever so quiet, like they were telling each other confidential secrets. “I’ve been here for almost three years now.” 

Noah looks at him hopefully. “And does it get easier?” 

His head shakes from side to side. “No,” he answers grimly. “It gets much harder.” 

Noah presses his lips into a thin line, and the bottle crinkles slightly as he grasps it tighter. Their contracts lasted ten years. Ten years without seeing his family, without knowing what sort of recovery his sister was making. It would be torture, and it made him want to cry. This had all been for her, and he couldn’t just leave. He’d told himself that he would endure it all, just for her, no matter how hard it got. He wondered if Fionn told himself the same thing. 

“Would you like to hear a poem?” The Apoid suddenly spoke up. Noah’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion, but regardless, he nodded his head. He could use a distraction - anything to help put his mind at rest. “It’s my favourite. By William Butler Yeats, called The Second Coming.”

As Fionn gently recited the lines, Noah discovered the answer to his earlier question. That yes - Fionn was Irish. The hint of an accent slipped through as he spoke, like it was completely natural for him. Noah closed his eyes, letting the soothing words wash over him. 

It made him see Fionn as more of a human than another faceless, robotic Apoid, and it was a very comforting thought.

masterlist · next

content warnings: medical whump, prison whump, captivity, imprisonment, prisoners of war, mentioned minor character death, mentioned non-con drugging, mentioned torture, psychological torture, minor violence, blood

“Noah, you’re needed on Level Nine.” 

Those words sent a strange little flurry of nerves settling in his stomach, and the clipboard almost slipped from his fingers as he spun around in shock. His eyes flickered around, as if wondering if she really was addressing him, or somebody else. 

A Higher-Up stood before him, a black haired woman with a plain mask covering the entirety of her face. It was a staple for the Higher-Ups, showing off their status. Flanking her were two Apoids. Noah had grown accustomed to seeing the dangerous rifles clutched in their hands, but their masked faces and robotic nature still made him weary. He set the clipboard on the countertop, hands clasping together anxiously. 

“Level Nine, ma’am?” He repeated slowly, his voice wobbling. Noah had only been down to Level Nine during his induction a few months ago. There was this dangerous, dark air to the place, one that had shivers rolling down his spine whenever he thought about it. Part of him hoped she had simply misspoken, or he had misheard her. 

No such luck. The woman nodded her head. “We need the blood taken from one of our prisoners.”

No doubt another brutal scheme for more torture. Noah resided on the first Level of the Facility; compared to most, life here was rather tame. The prisoners weren’t immensely dangerous, and while they were trained to proceed with caution, Noah had never had any problems or disasters. Although he had also occasionally concocted experiments under the Higher-Up’s orders, he heard rumours that it was absolutely brutal down in the lower Levels. Up here, the most blood he saw was when prisoners would get themselves into trouble and meet the fists of an Apoid.

He himself had never had to witness the torture of the Facility first hand.

Level One patients usually gave up their information relatively quickly, or they were simply just captured soldiers with no purpose. Noah hadn’t been in the Facility for long, simply getting accustomed to his patients and their medical records to prepare him later for the future.

Scientists of the faint of heart wouldn’t be able to handle the lower levels. Noah had heard the others telling him that, praying that he toughened himself up now, or be forced to live with the initial crippling, exhausting nightmares from the torture rooms. Scientists had often experienced mental breaks in their composure, compared to staff like the robotic Apoids or the busy Personnel. He knew he was doing this for greater good, and of course he’d come face to face with the idea of physically torturing people eventually.

Noah just didn’t think he would jump to the worst Level of them all. Where the scientists were known to be sadistic and ruthless, and trained interrogaters would mercilessly torture these people without a care.

Noah shivered. His mouth was incredibly dry at the thought.

“Ma’am,” he began anxiously, stepping closer. “I have patients on Level One that I’m assigned to. Besides, I don’t think I’m qualified to take on a patient from Level Nine.” 

The Higher-Up shook her head firmly. It was always unnerving staring into those plain masks, unable to tell what expressions they were making when they spoke. Noah hadn’t been down in the Facility for long, but many other scientists told him they don’t tred down into the depths very often. 

“You’ve been ordered to drop all of your previous patients. Prisoner Seven is all we want you to focus on from now on.” 

Noah let out a trembling breath. He almost couldn’t believe what he was hearing; the idea of crawling down into the depths of Level Nine was making his heart pound in his chest, banging against his ribcage. Dark imagery and the foul smell of blood crossed his mind for a moment, and his stomach sank. 

The Higher-Up tilted her head. 

“And regarding your qualifications,” she said sharply, almost spitting out the word in annoyance. “You’ve been sufficiently trained to deal with possible scenarios as far as Level Nine. You know what’s expected of you should anything go wrong.” 

“Yes, but only in simulations,” he breathed out, fiddling with the sleeves of his long, white coat. “If I were to—”  

“Then, you are perfectly qualified,” she snapped, interrupting him without a second thought. “You know the procedures that are expected of you. Are you arguing with me?” 

The cold threat pressed hard against his throat. He swallowed down his pride, eyes stealing glimpses at the Apoids by her side. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. 

“No, ma’am.” 

She shifted, turning on her heel. “Very well. Personnel will debrief you once you are escorted down there.” 

There was no arguing with that. Noah had no choice but to follow close behind her, the two Apoids shadowing them close behind as they went. A bundle of nerves set alight in his stomach. The reality of going down to Level Nine was sinking into his skin, making him crawl and itch with a terrible unease. It made him wonder why he was assigned to a patient that should already have someone working on them. 

Did they—? 

He swallowed, stepping quietly into the elevator. No conversation was exchanged between them, protocol setting in quickly enough. He shouldn’t think like that. It was dangerous, but the place was crawling with hundreds of Apoids. Should anything go wrong, he was well protected. 

Noah’s amber eyes landed on the silver, round buttons above them. It lit up on four, then descended down to five, six, seven, eight…

Anxiety gnawed maliciously at his stomach. 

The moment it brightened up on the number nine, and a loud beeping noise broke the thick silence, he had to remind himself to breathe properly. He didn’t have much time before the doors were sliding open, and the Higher-Up was leading him out of the small, bleak box. 

Apoids were lining the walls, clutching their rifles tight and stood in an unmoving pose. They could have almost been mistaken for statues, and Noah resisted the urge to look at them as he went past, feeling as though he was going deeper into the lion’s den. He was guided into a room he recognised from Level One, one of the torture rooms used for their interrogations and experiments. It was empty, Noah was relieved to see, apart from some people dressed in grey uniforms. 

The Higher-Up left not a moment later, but the Apoids remained posted on either side of the door, where Noah assumed they would be staying while Prisoner Seven was sent for and retrieved. 

“Noah, isn’t it?” 

He gazed wearily at the Personnel that approached him, a short woman with her red hair braided behind her back. She was smiling at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She was holding a file to her chest, covered by her arms. It took him a second to gather his wandering thoughts, and he slowly nodded his head. 

She handed him the file, a pristine wad of papers with the title “Prisoner Seven” printed along the top. No doubt, this was everything regarding the prisoner medically, written by who had come before him. There were a lot of handwritten notes in scruffy writing, but he decided to look over it in a moment. 

“We need you to check his bloods. The scientists down here have been experimenting with some drug induced methods of torture, and Prisoner Seven hasn’t been acting favourably. We’d like you to check that everything is in order, as well as work on the drug during your time here.” 

Noah tried to process all that information with a frazzled brain, but his mind had latched onto the prospect of there being a scientist before him. It made his stomach sink with this knowing dread, not sure if he wanted to know. Maybe their contract ran out and they left the Facility. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathlessly chuckled. “But what happened to the last scientist?”

The Personnel cleared her throat. “She died.” 

Noah’s eyes widened. “Oh.” 

“Unfortuantly,” she jumped in, as if trying to ease his visible, rising nervousness. “Prisoner Seven got loose and murdered her. But you’ll have more security in the room with you, so you’ll be perfectly safe.” 

Perfectly safe. The thought made him laugh. He wondered if the previous scientist had been told the same thing.

He swallowed nervously, glancing around the room. He found an assortment of tools already laid out for his use. He walked over to them, examining the long needle under the bright lights. It was better quality than anything he got on Level One. He glanced at the clock, trying to settle his nerves.

“What time will Prisoner Seven arrive?”

“In twenty minutes. Please take your time to set up.”

They left, and Noah was alone with the two Apoid’s standing quietly and completely motionless by the door. He sucked in a sharp breath, quickly turning away from them. His heart was pounding away in his chest.

He was nervous.

There was no doubt about it. He had never handled a patient that was higher than a Level One. He was completely out of his depth, and yet why him? Why choose Noah? Surely there were plenty of other more trained scientists on Level Nine they could use?

Soon enough, twenty minutes passed.

He heard the door being unlocked, and soon, more Apoids were flooding in. With them, clutched in their gloved hands, was Prisoner Seven. He was cuffed securely, hands and arms twisted behind his back, as well as an interlinking chain between his ankle cuffs, not allowing him a chance to run very far if he bolted. He was blindfolded and gagged, with guns trained on him from every angle.

He could have swore he even saw the crackle of a taser.

Noah watched the intense scene with a heavy heart. They moved carefully over towards the table in the middle of the room, which was attached with multiple opened cuffs and loose leather straps. He stayed clear as they began to unfasten his blindfold. Prisoner Seven was tall, and big. It was clear he was a formidable soldier. Broad shoulders, muscular limbs, piercing, lidded eyes.

Oh. Noah stiffened slightly.

Prisoner Seven seemed to be staring intently at him.

Those sharp eyes took in every little detail, and Noah had to let his gaze linger elsewhere after growing immensely uncomfortable. He was probably thinking of eleven different ways to kill him with his bare hands, no doubt. These were some of the most dangerous men and women to exist.

The Apoids safely and successful secured him in the cuffs, and then proceeded to swiftly pin him down with the leather straps. They were tightened impossibly tight, leaving it virtually impossible for anybody to get out. Noah felt slightly more at ease knowing he was restrained like that. Most of the Apoids left, now only leaving four in the room. They kept their guns trained on Prisoner Seven, even while it was time for Noah to get to work.

Prisoner Seven was still gazing at him with curious eyes, and Noah attempted to ignore it. He glanced at the Apoids, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I’m taking the gag out.”

One of them nodded once.

Noah tried to ignore the sickly sweat that was beading on the back of his neck as he slowly reached forward, tugging the gag away with a firm pull. As he did, Prisoner Seven jerked under the restraints violently.

Noah leapt back with a small cry, feet staggering, desperate to steer clear of him. A quiet, rumbling laughter filled the room not a moment later, but the noise didn’t ease the sudden stab of fear that had grasped his heart. He gripped the gag tightly in his fist, a wave of embarrassment smacking into him.

“Funny,” Prisoner Seven mused, his lips pulling into a small smirk. “Something the matter, doc?”

Noah calmed the rapid beating of his heart. He took a deep breath, and slowly shuffled forward again. He was restrained down. There was no way he could slip out of them. He steadied his breathing, steeling his nerves.

He shot a glance at the Apoids, their fingers easing back off the trigger. He sighed heavily.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions,” Noah said, keeping his tone of voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t make eye contact with the patient as trained, and took out his clipboard to begin running through the essential questions. “Please answer honestly for your own well being.”

Prisoner Seven’s eyes fell back to the ceiling, licking his dry lips. His smirk had gone, eyes lidded and dark. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Noah kept his eyes pinned on the paper. Even though his voice was steady and calm, his heart was pounding away in his chest like a relentless drum. It was hard to keep his breathing slow and concise, but he tried to assure himself that four highly trained, and armed, guards were in the room with him.

For what it was worth, Prisoner Seven was relatively complicit when it came to answering him. They were just standard questions to determine if there were any visible signs of blood clots or discomfort, but Noah was pleased it was going smoothly when his patient seemed to be healthy.

He moved onto the practical side of it, arguably the more dangerous. The cuff was fastened in a convenient spot, and so he got to work cleaning an area he was targeting.

“Squeeze your right hand into a fist, please,” Noah asked gently, his gloved fingers searching for a visible vein. Prisoner Seven did so, watching him intently.

“What’s your name, doc?”

Noah’s teeth clenched slightly. “You understand I cannot answer that.”

“We’re going to be getting to know each other quite intimately,” Prisoner Seven hummed. “Your name. It’s all I ask for.”

Noah’s brows flickered in annoyance, prodding for a vein. He was growing increasingly frustrated that he couldn’t find one suitable enough, and Prisoner Seven’s voice was distracting him.

“Please be quiet,” he murmured. His patient hummed.

“You’ve already broken protocol by talking to me this like this,” he spoke. “What’s the harm?”

Noah cursed under his breath, the needle fumbling in his hand. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, his voice shaking slightly as he motioned to one of the Apoids.

“Can...someone just loosen this strap for me, please?” He snapped, trying to calm down the overwhelming sensation building in his chest. Prisoner Seven was right; he was only meant to speak when necessary, not answering a patient if not needed. One Apoid slowly stepped forward, lowering his rifle slightly, but clearly still on guard. He’d been expecting him to do as he requested, but he spoke instead.

“Is it necessary?” He asked stoicly. Noah was almost shocked at the voice behind the mask. He’d never heard one speak before. Apoid’s had always been the silent and deadly powerhouses that even Noah was afraid to walk past alone. The modulation from the mask made his spine tingle, and it took him a second to snap out of his embarrassing gawking. Gathering himself, he nodded his head.

“It’s hard to find a vein when both restraints are restricting the blood flow here,” he explained, the words giving him time to regain his composure. “It’ll be for a minute.”

The Apoid slowly nodded his head. Rifles were pointed directly at Prisoner Seven as the one who spoke eased the tightness of the cuff slightly. Prisoner Seven remained still, and Noah finally managed to press the tip of the needle into his vein.

He drew the blood out carefully, and then covered the puncture sight with nimble fingers. The Apoid returned the cuff back to normal, and smoothly stepped back into his original position. It was deathly quiet while Noah checked the blood samples. He scribbled down everything he needed, before returning back to Prisoner Seven’s side once more.

“You haven’t had any adverse effects to the drugs, and you’re clean,” he explained steadily. “Any nausea or light headedness?”

Prisoner Seven’s eyes flickered over to him. “No.”

Noah sighed and motioned towards the Apoids. “Then we’re done here.”

He stayed back gratefully against the wall as the guards proceeded to do their diligent job. His eyes were glued onto the camera at the top of the wall, wondering quietly to himself who was watching, and what this was all about. As Prisoner Seven was being gagged once more, his piercing eyes landed on him again.

“Name’s Cash, doc.”

An Apoid surged forward, butt of the rifle slamming into his temple. Noah’s spine stiffened when he saw a flash of red, and the gag was pulled tight around his mouth not a second later. He was being dragged out of the room before Noah had a chance to process everything that happened.

His shoulder relaxed an inch. It was over. He’d done it.

His eyes narrowed slightly when he noticed an Apoid was still in the room with him. It was the one that had spoken, staring at him quietly from his spot near the table.

Noah frowned, feeling a little awkward. “Can I help you?”

The guard tilted his head. It was just as shocking the second time when he opened his mouth to talk. “I’m assigned to you. I’m escorting you back to your room.”

His throat closed up. “My what—?” He spluttered, shaking his head. “What do you mean you’re assigned to me?”

“Each scientist on Level Nine has an assigned Apoid for safety reasons,” the man rumbled carefully. Noah blinked in confusion.

“And my room?”

“You’ll be staying on Level Nine. Your things have already been transferred from Level One.”

What the—?

The room almost began spinning as Noah tore off his gloves, dumping them in the bin with a restricted lungs. It really was going to be permanent then. An assigned Apoid? Some part of him couldn’t quite believe it. Numbly, and through automaticness, he went to sort out all of the equipment and information, but the guard placed a hand on his shoulder.

He jumped, and the Apoid quickly retreated. Was this guard new or something? Noah had never seen one act like this before. Speaking and even touching him. His thoughts whirred. Then again, this was a different job. This Apoid was assigned to him.

“Personnel will handle that,” the guard told him. Noah blinked away the spots in his vision. “You were called down here quickly. They require you to rest first and proceed with your research tomorrow.”

He quietly nodded his head, finding there was no choice to agree. Research was something he was used to. As long as he was confined to that, he felt like he would be alright.

Noah allowed himself to be escorted to his new room, keeping his head low and his eyes to the ground as trained to do.

Play Pretend #10 - Chrysalis

Masterlist / Previous

CW: Kidnapped/captivity, restraints, muzzle, blindfold, sensory dep, noncon-drugging, creepy/intimate whumper, delusional whumper, noncon touch, noncon kiss, conditioning of whumpee, emotional manipulation, adult language, reference to previous torture.

@sparrowsage  @darkthingshappen  @the-cryptid-finch  @whatwasmyprevioususername  @leyswhumpdump  @panic-while-i-whump  @ha-ha-one  @whumpcereal  @damienxozmoze @t0rture-me  @termsnconditions-apply  @darlingwhump  @wolves-and-winters  @deltaxxk @silver-ink-iron-words  @baldngoamc  @canislycaon24 @soursagas @turn-the-tables-on-them @starsick1979 @whumpifi

Continues straight on from where we left off! Previous chapter is linked above for a refresher! ❤️ And thank you to @darkthingshappen for her help with a beta on this 🥹

---

“I r-really…really…fucking hate you…"

All the clocks stop ticking, all the songbirds fall silent, and the world stands still.  Josh’s words detonated, spitting shrapnel into Felix’s chest, charring him and choking him with smog. Felix refuses to believe his ears, such venom could never leave his angel's sweet lips. The walls of this utopia he’s built for the two of them crumble down in ash around him. It’s suffocating, the air is thick with betrayal. 

Felix squeezes his eyes to shut out Josh’s spiteful words, but they echo in his mind; a haunting melody. Josh sleeps underneath him, as sound as a new-born babe. Wispy eyelashes shield his baby-blue eyes, and soft breaths escape his kissable lips. Josh looks the very picture of beauty and innocence-

-but looks can be deceiving.

forever thinking about recapture

whumptober 2

prompt list masterlist

tw home invasion, intimate whumper, manipulation, guns, implied kidnapping

"They don't care about you."

Whumpee pressed their back even more firmly against the wall of their bedroom, staring at the stranger speechlessly. They had woken up to someone breaking in, and before they knew it, they were completely cornered and defenceless.

"You know that?"

They swallowed, trying to make a sound; preferably one that wouldn't get them killed. "Wh- who?"

whumptober 4

prompt list masterlist

tw possession? more just two souls sharing the same body but in a werewolfier sense... but it's not a werewolf- nonhuman whumpee, dehumanisation, captivity, fantasies of gore and cannibalism (doesn't actually happen), manipulation, conditioning

"You in there?"

Whumpee threw themself agaisnt the bars of their cage, feral as can be. There didn't seem to be a single coherent thought behind their eyes, only the bloodlust and hunger of the beast within them. Whumper sighed, exasperated.

tw multiple whumpers, intimate whumper, conditioning, manipulation, knives, humiliation, lady whumper

Whumpee immediately backed up when the blade came out. They didn't need the trouble. They didn't want the trouble! They had tried so hard to be agreeable and cooperative, but nothing was enough for Whumper, and somehow they still found themself at knifepoint.

"Wait, please– wait–" They raised their hands in a clear show of surrender, just as they bumped into Whumper's friend. Right. They forgot Carewhumper was in the room, too; it slipped their mind at the sight of a deadly weapon.

"They're right, darling," Carewhumper said softly, one arm immediately snaking around Whumpee's waist to hold them flush against his chest. Whumpee was too scared to lower their hands and stop it. "You should perhaps reconsider."

whumptober 5

prompt list masterlist

tw emotional whump, robot whumpee

"It's broken."

"I can see that, buddy. I'm trying to figure out how to unbreak it."

"You mean how to fix it."

Caretaker looked up at their robot friend with a sad smile. "You never change, do you? No matter how many parts of you break."

"What do you mean?"

"I was joking, dummy. Using a silly, nonexistent word to lighten the situation."

Whumpee's expression didn't change, of course, but Caretaker could hear the literal cogs turning in their head. "Oh."

"I don't want you to change, though. Just to be clear." They went back to working on the broken part, increasingly more anxious about the fact that they might not be able to fix it at all. It was an old model, one that might've simply served its time and there was nothing anyone could've done about it.

"Why not? It is a communication issue that should be fixed. What use am I as a machine designed to take orders if I cannot understand the basics of language?"

"Jokes are not the basics, don't even worry about it. Besides..." They glanced up at Whumpee, still smiling. "I think it's endearing. I like explaining them to you."

They didn't want to think about the possibility of not having Whumpee around to explain stupid jokes to. Even as the equipment was falling apart in their hands, they refused to give in to the despair.

They were going to explain a thousand more things to Whumpee, no matter what it took.