#Lyndale | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cutwhipburn · 1 month

Text

Mistake (Chapter One)

WARNINGS: Mental Fuckery, Dehumanization, WRU/Box-Boy Universe Themes, Medical Torture, Mental Torture, Human Expirementation, Dissociation, Alluding to Food Withholding, Fake News and the Spread of False Information, Illiteracy/Illiterate Whumpee

Mistake’s legs burned. It felt like millions of fire ants were biting into their legs-no, like a million fire ants were burrowing into their legs, biting and crawling through their skin and deep into their muscles. Into their bones, even. The latest of their mother’s inventions was proving to be a success, unfortunately for Mistake.

It was a shot, one that Shannon planned to have used on boxies who failed escape attempts. Mistake could confirm that it would undoubtedly be very effective. Just two needles, one in each leg, and that boxie would likely never want to run again. Mistake didn’t think it would even be able to stand for at least a few hours afterwards, let alone walking or god forbid running.

Mistake winced, crying out in pain as her mother prodded them, writing notes in her inventions notebook. They wished it’s mother would let them be finished for the day, preferably sending them to their father so they could curl up in a ball and let him hug it until the pain passed. But they knew that was wishful thinking. They had been in pain for so long they’d cried out all the tears they had, had screamed themself near hoarse.

Shannon would keep them through to the very end of the pain, and probably still have critiques on their reactions after. But Mistake didn’t know what else to do. They were hurting so much.

Time dragged on like molasses, until eventually the throbbing pain died down enough for them to stop silently crying, and they were able to curl up into a ball on the floor.

“Can I see papa now?” Mistake mumbled into their legs, their body shaking in exhausted pain. Their legs still occasionally jolted with aftershocks.

“If you can get up and walk there on your own.” Shannon allowed with a nod, turning to her assistant. “Lets get this to the lab. I need to test the effects on a few of the boxies, see if it differs based on age, weight, and gender. Pick out some troublemakers for me.” The assistant nodded, turning quickly on their heel and speeding from the room.

Mistake started to slowly drag their body across the floor, it’s body aching too much to even try standing. They supposed they would maybe feel embarrassed, if they weren’t so used to the humiliating feeling of needing to get out of the lab, now.

They found its father Norman, predictably as ever, standing in Shannon’s enormous kitchen, spaced out and distant. Mistake felt cold sweat down their back, leaning against the cool cabinet and tiles.

“Papa, I’m here,” Mistake said, childishly quiet. “Mama let me be done now.” They tuck their head behind their curls. “I'm tired.”

“Missy?” Norman snapped out of his daze, hurriedly bending down to lift them off the floor. “You’re shaking.”

“Mama tested a new shot,” Mistake mumbled, curling into their father’s chest. “Supposed to punish bad runaways.” They were careful with their words, softly methodical and clear. “Made my legs hurt for a while.”

He carried them into the living room, laying them down on the couch. “Want to watch cartoons, love? Do you want something to eat? I-I can make something as soon as I ask your mother if you’re allowed.”

“Not hungry,” Mistake said quietly, curling up in a ball and shaking their head. “Just wanted to be with you.” They latched onto him again like a small koala bear. “I feel better when I’m with you.”

Norman looked like he was about to be sick. “Oh-Okay, but I have to sit on the floor, remember. I’ll just sit by you, okay?”

Norman wasn’t allowed on the couch.

Mistake whined softly, sliding themself onto the floor next to him and nestling into his side. “Wanna be with you,” they mumbled stubbornly. The carpet was plush at least. Mistake was used to sitting on it with their father, though even the plushest carpet starts to hurt when you’re ordered to kneel on it in complete stillness for half a day.

“Missy, please, the couch.” Norman begged, but his voice wavered, already used to loosing any argument he dared have. “I’m sure it feels a lot more comfortable, and you’re in pain.”

“I want you, not couch,” it insisted quietly.

Norman was silent for a moment. “Cartoons?” He asked again, his voice dulled. The only cartoons Shannon allowed them to watch were the ones with a silly little box-boy constantly getting into trouble, usually with the reminder at the end that staying indoors and with your owner was the only safe places to be. Or there would be the episodes where the box-boy’s owner would randomly shout out a command for the boxies watching, just to make sure that even when relaxing a boxie should be ready to obey their owner and listen to their authority.

“No thank you,” Mistake mumbled. “Too tired. Just wanna rest.” Norman wrapped his arms around them, gently playing with their hair. Mistake drifted asleep in his comforting arms, only awaking to the sound of Shannon’s return. It was not quiet or pleasant, but it rarely ever was.

“Norman, get dinner started!” Shannon called from the front door as she took off her coat. “We have company coming. Get Mistake upstairs and into a nice outfit when you’re done.” Mistake rubbed its’ eyes as Norman gently removed them from his lap, placing them back on the couch and hurriedly going to do as he was ordered.

Mistake could feel the pain subsiding more from their legs, lightly dangling them over the edge of the couch. It wasn’t so painless they could walk yet, pressure still sent an electric pain running up its’ legs, but they could tell it almost was the case. They fidgeted with its hands, waiting patiently for their father to return and hoping their mother left it be for now.

Shannon, thankfully, didn’t even seem to notice them as she breezed past the living room, going upstairs to change herself, most likely. It was after a long time of silence before their father joined Mistake again, carefully lifting it back up and going upstairs to the attic.

Mistake had exactly two nice dresses. A black one and a dark blue one. Still, Norman rifled through the two in its’ small closet, pulling them out and holding them up as if it was a big decision. “Which one do you want tonight Missy?”

“Black, please,” Maddie said, reaching out to grab the dress themself. In truth, they rather wished they had more colors of clothes, and maybe even some nice outfit to wear that wasn’t a dress. But they couldn’t be ungrateful. These dresses were nice, a great privilege. “Thank you papa.”

“Remember not to talk at dinner unless anyone sitting at the table speaks directly to you. Ask if you want to speak otherwise. Eat what’s on your plate but don’t ask for seconds if you want them. If you do, find me afterwards and I can get them to you when no one's paying attention.” Norman prattled off, all the rules long memorized. Mistake nodded their head carefully to each one as they slipped the dress over their head, wriggling out of their dirty lab clothes. Norman gently finished it off with a bow in their hair, slightly shabby but not too noticeable,

“I understand, papa,” Mistake said softly and clearly. “I’ll do what you said, promise. I’ll be good.”

“And if Shannon tells you to go to bed, you have to come right up, brush your teeth and change, and go to sleep.” This one Norman seemed nervous, almost on edge about. He always did. He said it was the most important rule Mistake had to worry about. “I mean it Missy, right to sleep. No book. No window.”

Mistake pouted softly. They rather liked their book, staring at the pictures and the stories they’d made up to go along with them. Ignoring the black squiggles on the page that it would never be able to read. That they’d never be allowed to learn. They liked the window just as much. It was nice, a way to imagine a world where Mistake wasn’t a mistake, but a normal child with a normal life and two whole parents who loved them very much. But they knew how important this was to their father, so they still nodded.

“Okay, papa.” They folded its’ hands on their lap. “I will.”

“When whoever she’s expecting gets here, remember to say hello ma’am or sir and then-” Norman mimed zipping his lips. “I have to get the food out of the oven. Can you please set the table? Remember to ask your mother how many plates you need to set out.”

Mistake pushed off the bed, standing on unsteady, wobbling legs and nodded its head. “Yes papa,” They brushed off the dust from their dress, walking unsteadily down the stairs and hesitantly hovering outside their mother’s office. “Mother? How many plates should I set out on the table?”

“Three on the table set out nicely, four in the center.” Shannon said, not even looking up to acknowledge Mistake’s presence. Mistake tried not to wilt at the lack of attention, nodding their head.

“Alright, mother. Thank you.” Mistake ducked their head and hurried down to the kitchen to grab the appropriate table settings.

They set the table with a clean precision their father had taught them well, not a thing angled or out of place, before sitting down.

On the floor.

The dining room floor was wood. It hurt their knees more, but Mistake had a little pillow to sit on while they ate. That helped a little bit, even if it was only for a little while.

Their father didn’t take long in the kitchen, carefully bringing out the food so none would drop on the floor, and arranging it nicely on the table. Mistake watched him closely, taking care to mind his actions. They were to learn from their father as much as possible, their mother had insisted.

They noticed him pause briefly, eyes moving over the table. He was counting the plates. His face fell at the number, uncomfortable and tense.

“What’s wrong, papa?” Mistake asked softly, careful not to speak too loudly and have their mother overhear.

“It’s just…I think it’s Evelyn coming over.” Norman admitted. “If there’s three plates out on the table and four that will go to the floor.”

Mistake felt themself cringe inward. They didn’t like Evelyn much. Her daughter, yes. Her daughter seemed kind, and curious, and interesting and Mistake longed to speak with her as though they were equals. But Evelyn, Mistake hated.

Anytime Evelyn came over, Mistake got into extra trouble and was punished. And besides, Cyrus frightened them. He was rather big, rather scary, and not quite nice. Papa said that was his job, since he was a designated Guarddog boxie. He was the only one Mistake had ever met.

The doorbell rang, echoing throughout the house. Norman hurriedly helped Mistake to their feet, muttering his own rules under his breath as the two walked towards the door.

The idea behind a Box-Boy cartoon was inspired by: @ashintheairlikesnow Post here:

8 notes · View notes

cutwhipburn · 29 days

Text

Mistake (Chapter Two)

WARNINGS: Mental Fuckery, Dehumanization, WRU/Box-Boy Universe Themes, Mental Torture, Human Experimentation, Alluding to Food Withholding, Fake News and the Spread of False Information, Illiteracy/Illiterate Whumpee, Alluding to Abuse of Underage Characters, Vomit/Throwing Up, Mentions of Previous Torture

Shannon came out of her office and made a beeline for the front door, Mistake and Norman following her as silent as two ghosts. Mistake knew they weren't supposed to be curious. These weren't its’ guests, they were their mother's.

But still, curiosity got the best of them, peeking out from behind their father as the door opened. If their father was right about the guests on the other side, it was more than excited to see Morgan Duevant again. She was so much kinder than either their mother or Evelyn. And best of all, she was Mistake’s age. That meant even if Mistake was half boxie, it didn’t matter much to Morgan.

Yet.

Norman was correct. Evelyn stood on the other side, arm holding tightly to her daughter. Cyrus loomed behind the two.

“Welcome Evelyn.” Shannon said with a quaint formality. Welcome back Morgan.”

“Hello Miss. Shannon.” Morgan said politely, noticing Mistake’s interested stare. She said nothing, where others would immediately inform Shannon to get Mistake in trouble.

“Hello Shannon. We are just-“ Evelyn took off her coat and thrust it into Norman’s arms. “-delighted to be seeing you again.”

Cyrus helped Morgan out of her coat, and she carefully handed it to Mistake. Mistake had never had a coat, certainly never one so soft like this. It was a white faux fur, perfectly pristine. Mistake carefully hung it up, Norman doing the same with Evelyn's before turning back to greet them.

“Hello Ms. Evelyn. Hello Miss. Morgan.” Norman kept his eyes trained on the ground, Mistake quickly copying the action. They weren't supposed to look guests directly in the eyes unless ordered too. It was rude otherwise.

Mistake echoed their father’s words dutifully, following his lead in everything, just as they were supposed to.

Shannon, Evelyn, and Morgan moved further back into the house, Cyrus stepping in after them. He was followed by Evelyn's three other boxies.

Mistake didn't really know why she wanted-or needed-four, but it seemed Evelyn just got what she wanted. She had two box-boys, her Guard-Dog Cyrus and Romantic Sebastian; and two box-babes, a Custom Guard-Dog/Romantic called Elizabeth and a Platonic named Theodosia that Mistake had heard mentioned more than once was really more a boxie for Evelyn's boxies.

Mistake kind of liked the other boxies, besides Cyrus. They were always nice to it and called it Missy instead of Mistake. And, most importantly, they were nice to their papa. They always felt bad that they couldn’t be nicer to him since its mother could be so mean to him sometimes. Mistake had heard him crying before when he thought they were asleep.

Sebastian and Elizabeth especially were as sweet with Norman as they could be without getting in trouble. Theodosia was sweet on Mistake, fussing over their wounds in private and asking about its’ day. She was the same way with Morgan, almost blatantly obvious that she wished she had children of her own.

But a boxie wanting something? A ridiculous thought.

Boxie’s did not want things, nor need things. That was the way they were supposed to be.

Mistake was desperately trying to learn that for themselves. It was not meant want things, but they wanted so very much. They wanted its mother to love them, and to be allowed to speak with Morgan, and to read and not get hurt anymore and for their papa to be happy.

It was so hard not to want.

They don't know how their papa managed so well, he had dozens more rules and expectations than Mistake.

Elizabeth's hand almost brushes against Norman as the boxies all walk to the dining room.

Theodosia and Sebastian delicately sit on the floor, Elizabeth staring rigidly as she waited for Evelyn to tell her if she was allowed to sit.

Mistake admired Elizabeth the most of the other boxies, mostly because of how brave and tough she always seemed. Elizabeth never seemed scared of anything and nothing ever hurt her.

Mistake wished they could brave the experiments like that.

Evelyn was almost pointedly ignoring her, handing Cyrus a drink cup they'd brought with them, and ordering him to go stand by the door. Mistake had never seen him eat. Only drink whatever was in the cup. Protein shakes, they were pretty sure.

They didn’t think that it had to be very fun to have a protein shake every day, but they weren’t supposed to think. Thinking too much was bad, it led to thoughts and ideas that upset Shannon and got Mistake into all sorts of trouble. And yet, they could never stop the way its mind wandered, fidgeting as Shannon looked up at them.

“Sit down, Mistake, what on earth are you doing?” She questioned. Mistake practically slammed into the floor with how fast they sat, mind searching blankly for an answer and finding none as their face flushed.

Their body ached terribly still.

“Copying her.” Evelyn said in amusement, giving the barest nod of the head towards Elizabeth. “Sit Elizabeth, position two.”

Elizabeth immediately did as told, Mistake taking care to push the demand out of its’ head. The position wasn't for them, just Elizabeth. They'd get in just as much trouble for accidentally following someone else's order and not following their own.

Mistake clasped their hands together, trying to think of nothing as they stared at them. Its eyes weren’t to wander, and they weren’t to copy Elizabeth, and they weren’t to want or think or talk. There were so many rules and they bored Mistake so, and yet, they were still nothing compared to the other boxies’ rules. They couldn’t understand why they couldn’t be as perfect as them.

Shannon and Evelyn both served themselves first, Evelyn serving Morgan next while Shannon made up Mistake’s plate, passing it to them. Evelyn gave what portions she wished on each of her boxies’ plates, but she didn't hand Elizabeth hers after giving Sebastian and Theodosia their plates. Norman never got a plate. He had to sit underneath the table, at Shannon’s feet, where she could them feed him whatever she wished off her plate.

She never gave much.

“Don't you want your food?” Evelyn taunted, Elizabeth forcing her face to stay still and neutral. “Why don't you ask for it?”

Mistake held back a cringe. looking nervously at Elizabeth to see if she'd fail that test. Elizabeth held strong. She wasn't permitted to speak.

Evelyn finally gave her a plate after a few more seconds of silence.

None of the boxies were given silverware.

Mistake stared down at their plate of food. It was full, it nearly always was. Their mother always wanted them fit and ready for experiments at all times, so that meant they had to be fed well, and regularly. If they wasted away, after all, who would be her test dummy?

But they always hated its food. Shannon always gave them too much, which Mistake couldn’t wrap their head around, since their father got so little. They always ate it all, of course, but it hurt their stomach to the point where they’d sometimes throw it up. Complaining about it was a sure way to get into trouble, and to get no food for the rest of the week. They had been good this week, and hadn’t complained once or thrown up in front of Shannon. They had to keep this up.

Mistake should be grateful. Their father hardly got anything and never complained. Why should they complain about getting too much?

They wished they could just see him while it ate. It would make them feel better, being able to sit with him, maybe even be allowed to talk over dinner like a normal family. But they never could. The tablecloth was too long. Even if it wasn't…Mistake didn't really think its’ father wanted them to see

Shannon took the first bite of the meal, triggering Mistake to follow along in her action, taking the food in their hands and eating as carefully as they could. If they made too big a mess or spilled, they’d get in so much trouble.

The meal went as it usually did, with Evelyn prattling on about her accomplishments and everything she’d done, only for Shannon to quickly overshadow it with talks of her experiments and inventions. Morgan, of course, was silent eating her food.

Mistake cringed when Shannon spoke of her latest invention, the pain returning to their legs like an awful phantom.

“Well won't that be handy for the little runners.” Evelyn laughed, feigning charm. “They should know better, rushing off could only get the poor things hurt.”

Mistake liked to run. It was probably where their mother had gotten the idea for the invention in first place. Mistake, in their few moments of free time, ran themself silly in the backyard, until they were exhausted. Shannon had not approved.

It was not an appropriate part of Mistake’s training. Why on earth would they ever need to run?

Only to leave, and that was dangerous, like Evelyn said.

“Yes,” Shannon agreed, her smile sharp and casual. “Mistake quite proved the value of my invention. Mistake,” Shannon directed suddenly at her child. Mistake paused eating to indicate they were listening. “Do you want to run?”

Mistake knew the answer to that question, their little legs still trembling in pain.

“No, Mother,” Mistake mumbled, head low and behind her hair. “I don’t.”

Evelyn tattered with laughter. “Goodness you raised a pathetic one. At least it knows its’ place. Morgan's acting out all the time now that school is back in session. When she's a little older, I'm getting her a box-boy and retiring Theodosia.” Theodosia's head snapped up, her hands shaking against her plate. “Hopefully a boy will help with her-” Evelyn gave a vague gesture, abandoning whatever thought she'd had. “Too young still. But in a few years.”

“Of course. Maybe thirteen?” Shannon suggested. “God knows you've had worse age differences.” Shannon gave Evelyn a knowing look and said jokingly. “Got your eye on anyone yet?”

Evelyn’s eyes flickered across the room, grazing past the boxies, spending perhaps a second too long on Mistake than expected.

“Not quite yet,” she said finally. “Really Shannon, a bit silly to be thinking about that, all the trainees currently in the facility will be much older when Morgan is thirteen or fourteen.” The two seemed to be sharing a joke Mistake didn't understand.

They tugged on their curl, trying to force themself to eat the rest of the food on their plate, staring at it miserably. Just looking at it was making it sick. Mistake forced back a gag as they took another bite of food, their stomach aching.

“Permission to speak?” Theodosia asked hesitantly, her voice all but swallowed up. Her hands were still shaking. Evelyn raised an eyebrow but gestured a hand casually.

“Permission granted,” she said, sounding bored.

“May I go to the bathroom please Ms. Evelyn?” Her voice was shaky. It sounded like she was going to burst into tears.

“Granted. Go.” Evelyn rolled her eyes as Theodosia rushed away. “See that Shannon? My boxies’ emotional support boxie needs an emotional support boxie. How's that for a waste of my money? And she wonders why I'm retiring her soon.”

Mistake had never heard of a boxie being retired before. All the cartoons made it seem like boxies had a forever home once they left the facility.

The question of what that meant gnawed on them curiously, and they could never deny their curiosity.

“Permission to speak, mother?” Mistake asked carefully.

“What is it Mistake?” Shannon sighed as she slipped another piece of her food under the table for Norman.

“What happens when a boxie gets retired?” They asked, the words barreling out faster than they can control them. “Why don’t the cartoons mention it? Is it bad?”

“That's nothing you have to worry about.” Shannon shot a glare at Evelyn. “Really, hardly any boxies get retired, Mistake. If they simply aren't a good fit for a family like Theodosia, the facility will do everything they can to find them a better fit, reeducate them, and ship them there. Theodosia will still be with Evelyn for a few more years until Morgan is older. Why, Evelyn, you and I could convince the Burr family to take her, couldn't we?” Shannon stared at Evelyn. “Doesn't that just sound like a good fit? They've never had a boxie before, and Theodosia is very beginner friendly. She could look after Beatrice. Right, Evelyn?”

Evelyn looked thoroughly annoyed, but she forced a smile. “Of course she is. You’re absolutely right, Shannon, Theodosia would be a perfect fit for the Burrs.”

“Lovely,” Shannon said with her casual smile. “Anymore questions, Mistake?”

Mistake frowned, a bit disappointed at not getting the question fully answered but overall satisfied with the response. At least then Theodosia could maybe be happy. She loved taking care of children.

“No more questions,” Mistake shook their head. “Thank you mother.” It returned to picking at their food as Theodosia re-entered the room, eyes red and puffy from crying as she sat down. Mistake looked at her sadly. They wished they could make her feel not sad, and tell her she wasn’t going to be retired after all.

Mistake didn’t know who the Burrs were, but at least they’d probably keep Theodosia. They tried to convey this whole message through their eyes when they looked at her, but it suspected she didn’t catch a single thing. Mistake dropped eye contact as they took their final bite of food, their stomach churning as the dinner progressed.

It didn’t take long for them to throw it all back up.

4 notes · View notes