justplainwhump

[justplainwhump]

From mine and @justplainwhump 's Dany and Peyton au, also under my Everything And Nothing au umbrella where Valerian is Peyton's spouse! This piece happens after Distraction and before Equipment Room.

Their hair is a sheet of platinum blonde, its ends brushing the peak of their ass every time they move. Their dress hangs just as perfectly, quicksilver silk poured over their body. Diamonds at wrist, neck, and ears complete the look, and Valerian knows that tonight they are beautiful.

Peyton hasn't looked at them once.

Valerian clicks tapered nails across the top of the cocktail table. Their husband, sequestered at another, tips his head closer to hear the tart whispering in his ear. His lips curl in easy enjoyment as he looks up and down the woman that Valerian can't match. His fingers toy with hers, a shameless display of the affair Valerian has known about for months.

Danielle Hammond -- Dany to her friends -- is everything Valerian is not -- cannot be -- tonight. Her red dress hugs curves everywhere Valerian is flat; even the curls of her warm blonde hair are perfectly proportioned. She has eschewed jewelry - probably so nothing will distract from her decolletage, which Valerian silently, seethingly admits is stunning.

Peyton laughs again and waggles his empty glass. Valerian can read the offer to get her another from across the room. Their nails tap against the base of their own, empty since the moment Peyton abandoned them.

"He's fucking infatuated."

Valerian jerks. "You're lucky I don't have any drink left. You should have a face full of liquor for sneaking around like that."

Geoff grins. He sets a trio of flutes down, but twitches the nearest one away when Valerian reaches for it. "Oh, you don't want to be the one drinking this."

Valerian scowls. "And just what is that suppposed to mean? I'm not in the mood for games tonight."

Geoff lifts his chin towards Peyton, just arriving back to his table with a pair of drinks. "What about a game with her?"

"Ew. I'm not a fan of orgies."

Or sharing, but they've already had to compromise so much on that front that to say so would invite ridicule.

Geoff remains annoyingly cheerful. "Relax, you won't have to touch her. Or even watch, if you're gonna be a prude. But you can't say you don't want her taken down a peg, can you?"

Valerian eyes the flute. "She's certain to have an army of lawyers. I don't want you jeopardizing my husband just because you weren't allowed to bring your pet to this tedious gala."

Geoff's smile is edged, a dangerous focus in his gaze, and Valerian realizes he hasn't been watching Danielle all this time. Only Peyton.

They shiver. The damned a/c must be set too low.

"Here's what I want," he says after a lagging, too-long gap. "Cover for us with Peyton's parents if they ask. We're going to head down to my property in Georgia for a week or two."

"And what do I get in return?"

"Ms. Hammond put in her place. And unlikely to pick things back up with Peyton when he gets back."

Valerian eyes the flute, innocently sparkling between them.

"I'll handle Charles and Imogene. If you promise that there's no way anything you do tonight will come back to bite us."

"Absolutely." Geoff tips his glass and departs with a grin.

Valerian can't help but watch, caught in the web of his game. They watch concealed distaste flit across Danielle's features as Geoff joins them, and their heart trips over something not quite hope and not quite fear as she hesutates to raise the offered flute when Geoff proposes a toast. But Peyton's arm slips around her waist, his flute clinking gently against hers as he brushes his lips against the shell of her ear, and she smiles and tips it to her lips.

After that, it's almost painful to watch. Her composure unravels to tipsy delight, and a few heads start to turn as Peyton braces her against his side and escorts her out. She'll be remembered as drunk, later.

Geoff slips out the same door a few minutes later. Valerian sniffs and signals for another drink. They wish--

It's no use wishing. Sentiment never bought anyone diamonds, and protecting what's theirs is their right. He's their husband. She's just a tart with more tits than brain.

The party flows around them, all glitter and glitz and the scent of money. But the next drink, and the one after that, don't soften the edges of the memory of Peyton's hand around Danielle Hammond's waist, or of Geoff's predatory tread stalking after them. The glass in their hand chimes softly against the table as another shiver courses through them. Another party dances at the edge of their mind, a memory they've locked away for years knocking on their weakened defenses.

In the corner of their eye, the door they've been trying not to watch opens. Two dark heads slip out, Geoff's bent towards Peyton's ear as he steers them quickly towards the exit. Peyton doesn't look up.

Valerian grips the edge of the table with shaking fingers. The door stays closed.

They're across the room before they quite know they've decided to move, but once the handle is in their grip they know they can't go home without seeing--

The hallway is quiet. Nobody will be heading back to their rooms yet. One door left ajar spills light across richly plush carpet. Valerian's heels sink into it silently. They pause in the center of the hallway and stare.

She's a tangle of limbs on the floor, hitching her dress back up over her tits. Tears and worse streak her face, her neck, her thighs. Fingertip bruises are starting to dimple her hips. When she looks up, the blown centers of her pupils swallow her irises almost completely. She's still high. She braces one hand on the floor, unsteady, and watches them as if not quite sure what she's seeing is real.

Valerian looks for the warmth of vicious satisfaction, but all they can find is another shiver. Two steps carry them out of her sight, but it's not enough to hide the sound of her choked sob.

They hurry, panting immediately, awkward in their heels. They wanted her punished. Humiliated. Driven away from their husband. She was a slut who got what she deserved.

Didn't she?

[justplainwhump]

@hackles-up B

ouhg...must torture the character in the facility. then have him kill people epicly. then ptsd nightmares

[justplainwhump]

Make Our OCs Suffer Ask Game

You know the drill, send an emoji and oc, and I'll make it happen!

🏃- Make them run until they drop

🙌 - Stress position

💧- Waterboarding

🦴 - Break a bone; or maybe a few. (which ones? If you have a preference!)

🌑 - A nightmare

🐺 - An animal bite

⛈️ - Outside in a storm

🧵 - Sew their lips shut

🏆- Show them off

🤧 - A common ailment

🥵 - Heat exhaustion

🥶 - Caught in a blizzard

🌡️- A fever

⛽ - Douse them in something flammable and threaten them with a match

⬛ - Lock them in a dark room

😷 - A serious illness

👮 - Have them arrested

🎧 - Sensory overload

💉 - Drug them

☠️ - Poison them

😵 - Panic attack

🔥 - Burn or scald them.

🥱 - Sleep deprivation

⚡- Shock collar

⚰️- Bury them alive

💔 - Take away something they love

😣 - A painful shadow of their past

Creepy and intimate under the cut

💄- Doll them up

🌹- Romantic gifts

💕 - Cuddles in bed

👗- A special outfit

🎀 - Share them with friends

[justplainwhump]

Humiliation Prompts

These are all presented as sfw by default (but can be interpreted otherwise if that’s your preference)

Humiliate them by:

♠ Making them beg

♠ Forcing them to strip

♠ Spitting in their mouth

♠ Making them kneel

♠ Dressing them in a degrading outfit

♠ Mocking them for involuntary reactions

♠ Forcing them to lick something off the floor

♠ Hurting them in front of a mirror so they’re forced to watch

♠ Keeping their hands bound to make basic tasks difficult or impossible. Bonus: punish them for failing or making a mess

♠ Feeding them spoiled or disgusting food

♠ Hosing them down with cold water

♠ Calling them a mocking nickname or title

♠ Forcing them to crawl on their hands and knees

♠ Leaving them with obvious, hard to hide scars

♠ Branding them as a sign of ownership

♠ Forcing them to divulge past traumas or secrets

♠ Altering or ruining a part of their appearance they take pride in

♠ Rendering them mute or forbidding them to speak

♠ Making them lick clean someone’s boots/shoes

♠ Assigning them menial labor/chores

♠ Showing them off as a trophy at a party. Bonus: the party is for their enemies OR former allies/coworkers

♠ Offering them up as the entertainment to party guests to do with as they please

♠ Making derogatory comments about them to others (with them in the room/in earshot) Bonus: force them to agree with these assessments

♠ Gifting them as a slave/servant to someone they formerly outranked

♠ Leaving them at the mercy of strangers in a public display (stocks, pillory, cage, chained to something, etc)

♠ Grinding their face into the ground/mud/a mess they made. Bonus: With a foot on the back of their neck or side of their head

♠ Recording them being punished/tortured/etc. Bonus: send these to friends and family OR release them publicly online

♠ Fitting them with a collar

♠ Muzzling them

♠ Making them perform tricks or skills on command

[justplainwhump]

Privilege

Dany gets a visit by the bratty son of her the Fighting Ring's owner.

(Short read)

Thank you @hackles-up for the inspiration today and for creating this arc in the first place 💜

[Fighting Ring Arc]

Content / warnings: bratty teenage whumper (yeah, I don't even know), defiant whumpee, whumper pov, captivity, dehumanisation (mostly of a third), a bit of humiliation, a bit of poetic justice, short description of hand whump (?), biting.

Of course, Maurice - Morry - knows he's privileged. A spoiled, rich boy, born with the proverbial silver spoon, respected only because of his father's borrowed authority. He's grown into it. Use it while it lasts, for access, funds, respect - and certainly, for entertainment.

His Dad's Fighting Ring provides plenty of that. The Fighters are scary in their own right, the handlers are somewhat even worse, all of them stocky, mean looking bullies, who'd crush a lanky, nerdy teenager like Morry in one hand, in an outside life.

Here, they don't. And Morry thrives in it. Strolling through the corridors of the facility like he owns it. Sending some asshole like Tom to get him a diet coke. Sipping at it while dropping in to watch some of the Dogs train. Making the bullies do his bidding.

And demanding his own private time with the girl.

They call her girl, anyway; she's at least five years older than Morry, a grown woman, and his Dad has implied she's actually not a pet. She's a person. A former rich kid, like himself. Reduced to some toy, for both Hank and the Dogs. It's a bit terrifying, disturbing - but also, thrilling in an extremely kinky way.

The girl is in the handlers' break room, surrounded by a worn couch, stacks of uncleaned plates, a large TV set, and an array of some ominous devices to handle the Fighters.

She's thin, naked but for a collar around her neck, connected to a ring in the floor by a short chain. She can't stand like this. Just kneel. Morry sucks in a sharp breath. It's easy to imagine what she could be made do from that position. He glances at her slightly swollen lips and exhales slowly. Morry could make her do it, too.

He could -

"And who might you be?" Her voice somehow breaks the spell. It's rough, tired, but he can still make out a somewhat mocking tone. Of course. Girls like her always mock him. Everyone always mocks him.

Morry purses his lips and makes a point of looking her down. Fading freckles and fresh purple bruises dust the pale skin of her breasts. She won't get a lot of daylight here. But a lot of - he swallows thickly against the images popping up in his head. A lot of... sex.

"I'm your owners' son," he says, eyes narrowed. "So you better show some respect."

He's somehow expected her to throw herself flat to the ground, like he's seen pets do. It's mildly irritating that she doesn't.

She shakes her head with a tired chuckle. The chain rattles softly at her motion. "I do not respect you. You're what? Fifteen? Here to get your dick wet? Without the pesky questions of consent? I can't stop you from doing that, but you can't stop me from finding you fucking pathetic."

"Eighteen," he says stiffly, omitting the one final month before his eagerly awaited birthday. "And I didn't actually come here to... fuck you."

He didn't. But he knows he will. If only because he can. If only because he needs to show her that he might be a boy in her eyes, but he's in charge.

Morry steps in closer, carefully runs a hand over her soft dark hair, over her neck along the thick collar, traces her face with his fingers. She doesn't flinch.

She's pretty. Dark, deep eyes, narrow nose, high cheekbones. Her gaze warily follows his touch.

"I came here to get to know you." His fingertips rest on her lips. There's a little split in it. Someone must've hit her in the face. He bans the thought of him doing the same. For now. He does want to talk, after all. "They say you're the Beast's girlfriend."

He feels her muscles work under her skin, as he jaw tightens. She stays silent.

"How does that work?" he insists. "The Beast is monstrous. How can you be into that? Is it his dick? That's supposed to be monstrous, too."

Her mouth is stubbornly pressed into a thin line. Testing, Morry pushes his thumb down on her lower lip, like he's seen in some cheap film. And, just as in that film, her lips part for him, trembling. Fuck.

He inches closer, enough to imagine her breath on the tight fabric of his pants.

"You've been a person, right? Not a pet?"

Morry slips two fingers into her open mouth, presses down on her soft tongue. She inhales around him, carefully. The suction around his finger makes him dizzy.

"How can you call me pathetic," he muses. "When you're just the whore who falls in love with the huge dick of a mindless Dog."

He doesn't really get it right away. The twitch of her face. The shock jerking through his hand. The warm wetness of her mouth mingling with another, warmer, stickier wetness. The sensation of something grating over his bone. The scream that can't be his, but isn't hers.

The fucking pain.

She bit him. The fucking pathetic bitch bit him.

He doesn't even remember lifting his other arm, but his hand connects with the side of her face and she crashes down to her side, choking as the chain holds her collar. There's blood in her face, there's blood on the floor, there's blood rimming her teeth.

Only then does he dare look at himself. At his hand. His fingers. Where the blood is from. Torn white skin, ripped flesh, a glimpse of bare bone-

His head spins. His vision blurs. As the world fades out around him, the last thought that remains is one brightly burning promise.

The bitch will pay for this.

[justplainwhump]

First time smut writer: Um. Hope this is OK? It's only a bit of smut at the very end of the epilogue and you can skip it, it's ok. So sorry, um. Oh dear me. Please don't judge me. Nobody read this omg what have I done 😳

Seasoned smut writer: *ringing bell* Come get uR PORNOGRAPHY! 10k pwp, it's KINKY AS HECK so share it with all your friends!!! If you've got any suggestions for my Kinktober just drop it in the comments, I will write whatever wet, messy & DOWNRIGHT FILTHY fic about these two idiots 👏

[justplainwhump]

love whumper asking whumpee condescending little questions

"Not so tough/brave/strong now, are you?"

“Aw, does that hurt? Does it hurt so much you just can’t handle it?”

"Where you gonna go? Huh?" when Whumpee is struggling against firm restraints/trying to escape a secured area

"Ready to have some fun?"

"What, you're not enjoying this as much as I am?"

"Can you tell what's about to happen?"

"Need a break already?"

"Are you done?"

“Aw…I bet you just want it to stop, don’t you?”

[justplainwhump]

beyond exhausted whumpee collapsing into someone's lap to cuddle... is it innocent and warm and comfortable with caretaker? or is it backwards and twisted and tense with whumper?

[justplainwhump]

Am here at @justplainwhumps suggestion.

LET! B! BEAT! UP! MORRY!

YESSS LET HIM PLAY 🙌

B very much would like to 😌 just needs to wait for the right moment.

[justplainwhump]

wij day 10: wip sneak peek

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

Share a snippet of a whump piece you're working on

I have indeed a little piece from the next Part Safety chapter!

Bea bit her lip and nodded somberly. "I'm sorry to be the source of such disagreement," she said, her voice somehow both a whisper and clearly audible at the same time. "The pet system is legal and an an important pillar of society. There's much misinformation. I have never been mistreated by WRU or my owner."

Adrian's hold of her tensed. He could feel the bandages on her torso through her clothes.

"Discipline is neccessary for the wellbeing of a healthy pet," she recited. "I am lucky."

She lied so easily, naturally. Was it an act, atop of an act? What was true? What wasn't?

I love you.

She'd said it to him. She'd said it to Jack, too. To the anonymous owner before him, as well. Surely, to her handlers. Were it lies? Truths? Could she even distinguish? How could he know? How could anyone?

"Good girl," he replied hoarsely. "You are a lucky pet indeed."

[justplainwhump]

wij day 8: whump wishes

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

What tropes or scenarios do you love or wish to see more of? (People will make media recommendations on Day 13)

female protagonists!!!

That's it.

[justplainwhump]

wij day 7: fave whump fics

Post links to your favorite whump fics, new and old!

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

I'll go with a very limited subset because I know I will miss some real faves anyway and feel bad about it. Also, I see the "new and old", but to be my fave, they actually need to be old, so I have rotated them endlessly in my mind 💜

Thus. Have three (all at least partly 18+, proceed with caution)

Vera by @whump-tr0pes

Home Again and all its spin-offs by @wildfaewhump

B the Guard Dog by @hackles-up

And because tbh I have many faves among my own stories too; here's a little one: Match.

[justplainwhump]

@hackles-up Dany and B 😭 (as long as Ridley isn't there. Because we both know, B would always crawl to Ridley. 💔)

when a character is crawling towards another bc they’re both too injured/weak to stand but desperately need to reach each other >>>>>

especially if the threat is still looming but all that matters is that they get to each other. GAH

[justplainwhump]

Split in Two - Daniel Rehabilitation Arc

Welp it's been a while! If anyone is still following B's story - hi hello! I got struck with sudden inspiration for his story again after like... a year! But here's A little snippet from an idea I have about rehabilitating poor B back to Daniel (who he was before he was wiped and became B) with Scott’s help in Montana. Connor is… not helpful to B’s rehabilitation. Connor and Scott are @ashintheairlikesnow's creations

CW: Implied sadism, pet whump, conditioning, implied torture/mind wiping, BBU/WRU, disassociation

Scott and B find themselves in the hay loft of the barn while they’re finishing their barn chores…

“The thing is…” It was Daniel talking, Scott could see him shining through for a moment as he picked up a piece of hay and pinched it between his fingers.

“I think I always liked it… Hurtin’ people.” Daniel murmured, his accent was coming back to him the more he became Daniel again. He ripped the piece into two, casting it to the ground, eyes downcast. “I told m’self it was for doing good… That I wanted to be a cop so I could help people… But only so I could hurt the ones that deserved it… Maybe I was the one who deserved it more… ” 

Scott rubbed his shoulder gently, humming in soft understanding. “We all have … those sides to us. It doesn’t mean you… deserved what happened.”

Daniel shook his head, a bitter smile pulling at his lips. “I don’t know… I don’t know what’s easier to accept… M’head still hurts like hell and I don’t even know why I’m … trying to do this.” He hunched over and picked up another piece of hay. Scott’s chest tightened, not knowing what else to do except to keep up the slow soothing rubs on his shoulder.

“Daniel… He got you hurt. My fault.” It was B’s voice again. Simple words… the words they beat into him in the Facility. Your fault. Your fault. 

B crushed the piece of hay in his fist before dropping it. 

You’re not a person. You’re a number. A pet. The sooner you learn that, ‘192, the quicker you’ll leave this place.

“He got both of you hurt… It was my fault.”

Scott grit his teeth, the injustice of it… It wasn’t fair. Both of them weren’t at fault. Both of them were just trying to be free. Scott knew that, but Daniel… B… It’s like the very thought of it burnt him. 

“You know that’s not true, Da-” 

“There you two are!”

Connor’s voice floated in from under the hay loft, his boots thudding on the barn floor below them. B brightened, straightening up like he was standing to attention.

He was definitely B again. Damn it, he was actually getting somewhere. Scott had a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Sir! We were just … on our way!” B leapt to his feet with renewed energy, grabbing a bale of fresh hay for the animals in an easy over the shoulder lift and throwing it down to the feed room below. 

Scott sighed and followed B, who was eagerly clambering down the ladder. Daniel was gone again. 

[justplainwhump]

⛓️ The Fighting Ring Arc (Dany's Story II)

This arc is a collaboration with @hackles-up, B is her character and so are several of the bad guys.

After murdering escaping from Ridley, Dany and B are targeted by a criminal gang who run illegal pet fights and who would love to add a WRU trained Guard Dog like B to their portfolio. And Dany, the girl by his side? Nothing more than a fun instrument to keep B loyal and motivated - and entertain their captors.

[Dany Masterpost] [Dany's Story I]

Tropes : Noncon, humiliation, heavy dehumanisation, multiple whumpees, defiant whumpee (as much as possible), forced to watch, forced to hurt, messy recovery dynamics between conditioned whumpee and co-whumpee.

Writing under the cut:

[Spotted] - Dany pov

[Words] - Hank pov

[Food] - Hank pov

[Big Night] - Dany pov

[Bull] - Bull pov

[Privilege] - Morry pov [new; July 25]

[justplainwhump]

If my character was under a truth serum, what would you/your character ask them?

They have to tell the truth, remember!

[justplainwhump]

Reblog for the tag list:

@distinctlywhumpthing @Whumping-on-the-ridge @queenofthenoobs @ocean-blue-whump

Privilege

Dany gets a visit by the bratty son of the Fighting Ring's owner.

(Short read)

Thank you @hackles-up for the inspiration today and for creating this arc in the first place 💜

[Fighting Ring Arc]

Content / warnings: bratty teenage whumper (yeah, I don't even know), defiant whumpee, whumper pov, captivity, dehumanisation (mostly of a third), a bit of humiliation, a bit of poetic justice, short description of hand whump (?), biting.

Of course, Maurice - Morry - knows he's privileged. A spoiled, rich boy, born with the proverbial silver spoon, respected only because of his father's borrowed authority. He's grown into it. Use it while it lasts, for access, funds, respect - and certainly, for entertainment.

His Dad's Fighting Ring provides plenty of that. The Fighters are scary in their own right, the handlers are somewhat even worse, all of them stocky, mean looking bullies, who'd crush a lanky, nerdy teenager like Morry in one hand, in an outside life.

Here, they don't. And Morry thrives in it. Strolling through the corridors of the facility like he owns it. Sending some asshole like Tom to get him a diet coke. Sipping at it while dropping in to watch some of the Dogs train. Making the bullies do his bidding.

And demanding his own private time with the girl.

They call her girl, anyway; she's at least five years older than Morry, a grown woman, and his Dad has implied she's actually not a pet. She's a person. A former rich kid, like himself. Reduced to some toy, for both Hank and the Dogs. It's a bit terrifying, disturbing - but also, thrilling in an extremely kinky way.

The girl is in the handlers' break room, surrounded by a worn couch, stacks of uncleaned plates, a large TV set, and an array of some ominous devices to handle the Fighters.

She's thin, naked but for a collar around her neck, connected to a ring in the floor by a short chain. She can't stand like this. Just kneel. Morry sucks in a sharp breath. It's easy to imagine what she could be made do from that position. He glances at her slightly swollen lips and exhales slowly. Morry could make her do it, too.

He could -

"And who might you be?" Her voice somehow breaks the spell. It's rough, tired, but he can still make out a somewhat mocking tone. Of course. Girls like her always mock him. Everyone always mocks him.

Morry purses his lips and makes a point of looking her down. Fading freckles and fresh purple bruises dust the pale skin of her breasts. She won't get a lot of daylight here. But a lot of - he swallows thickly against the images popping up in his head. A lot of... sex.

"I'm your owners' son," he says, eyes narrowed. "So you better show some respect."

He's somehow expected her to throw herself flat to the ground, like he's seen pets do. It's mildly irritating that she doesn't.

She shakes her head with a tired chuckle. The chain rattles softly at her motion. "I do not respect you. You're what? Fifteen? Here to get your dick wet? Without the pesky questions of consent? I can't stop you from doing that, but you can't stop me from finding you fucking pathetic."

"Eighteen," he says stiffly, omitting the one final month before his eagerly awaited birthday. "And I didn't actually come here to... fuck you."

He didn't. But he knows he will. If only because he can. If only because he needs to show her that he might be a boy in her eyes, but he's in charge.

Morry steps in closer, carefully runs a hand over her soft dark hair, over her neck along the thick collar, traces her face with his fingers. She doesn't flinch.

She's pretty. Dark, deep eyes, narrow nose, high cheekbones. Her gaze warily follows his touch.

"I came here to get to know you." His fingertips rest on her lips. There's a little split in it. Someone must've hit her in the face. He bans the thought of him doing the same. For now. He does want to talk, after all. "They say you're the Beast's girlfriend."

He feels her muscles work under her skin, as he jaw tightens. She stays silent.

"How does that work?" he insists. "The Beast is monstrous. How can you be into that? Is it his dick? That's supposed to be monstrous, too."

Her mouth is stubbornly pressed into a thin line. Testing, Morry pushes his thumb down on her lower lip, like he's seen in some cheap film. And, just as in that film, her lips part for him, trembling. Fuck.

He inches closer, enough to imagine her breath on the tight fabric of his pants.

"You've been a person, right? Not a pet?"

Morry slips two fingers into her open mouth, presses down on her soft tongue. She inhales around him, carefully. The suction around his finger makes him dizzy.

"How can you call me pathetic," he muses. "When you're just the whore who falls in love with the huge dick of a mindless Dog."

He doesn't really get it right away. The twitch of her face. The shock jerking through his hand. The warm wetness of her mouth mingling with another, warmer, stickier wetness. The sensation of something grating over his bone. The scream that can't be his, but isn't hers.

The fucking pain.

She bit him. The fucking pathetic bitch bit him.

He doesn't even remember lifting his other arm, but his hand connects with the side of her face and she crashes down to her side, choking as the chain holds her collar. There's blood in her face, there's blood on the floor, there's blood rimming her teeth.

Only then does he dare look at himself. At his hand. His fingers. Where the blood is from. Torn white skin, ripped flesh, a glimpse of bare bone-

His head spins. His vision blurs. As the world fades out around him, the last thought that remains is one brightly burning promise.

The bitch will pay for this.