#mwmdAY23

[serickswrites]

Close Your Eyes

Warnings: betrayal, head injury, fade to black, unclear character status

"Just a bit further," Friend said as they urged Whumpee forward.

Whumpee walked carefully through the darkened cave. They didn't want to slip and fall on one of the numerous sharp rocks lining the cave. "Are you sure you saw a pictograph this far back?"

"Very sure," Friend said, their voice sounding stilted.

Before Whumpee could reply, their head exploded with pain. They tumbled forward as they screamed out. Whumpee's pain addled brain couldn't quite put together all of the information as they tried to roll onto their back.

"Don't move," Friend ordered. "Please, don't move."

Whumpee managed to flip over enough that they could stare up at Friend. "I....I....d-d-d-on'ttttt," they started as they stared up at the person they thought was their good friend.

The person who was standing over them with a very large and very sharp rock. Friend's eyes were filled with tears. "Whumper promised they wouldn't hurt my family. I...I'm sorry, Whumpee."

"Pl-Pl-Please," Whumpee whispered.

"Close your eyes. Close your eyes, Whumpee. It will all be over soon. Please......just close your eyes."

And though Whumpee knew that closing their eyes was a bad idea, they couldn't stare up at Friend as Friend brought the rock down towards their head again. Couldn't watch as their closest friend betrayed them. Couldn't watch as their world was going to end.

Whumpee closed their eyes. And their world became quiet. And still.

[shes-some-other-where]

Cursed, hunted, condemned

Prompt: “Close your eyes.”

Contains: exhaustion, fear, guilt, angst

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. He only dimly registered where they were, his energy exhausted by a slow, shambling walk he suspected had only been a short distance and yet felt like many leagues. “You don’t understand.”

A fugitive. He was a fugitive, cursed and hunted and condemned. If she helped him, she risked condemning herself.

“Hush now,” she said, “and close your eyes.”

“I’m a…”

“You can tell me after you’ve rested,” she said. “You’re safe. Hidden.” He heard her gulp. “I don’t know what you’re so frightened of, stranger. But I promise. You’re safe for now.”

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

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All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[shywhumpauthor]

The Merry Whump of May—Day Twenty Three

"Good things come to those who wait."

Nine-inch-nails | Isolation | Creepy basement

Part two to this || Merry Whump of May Masterlist

Cw: past torture, isolation, starvation, neglect, mentioned drugging/poisoning

Patience is a virtue, is it not?

It was a lesson Whumpee had learned time and time again. Patience.

Waiting.

Whumpee had never been known for their ability to remain composed. If they knew something was coming, they couldn’t bear to wait longer than a few minutes, until their knee was bouncing and their hands were twisting and they were so caught up in the thoughts of what was to come that they forgot what was happening around them.

It was a lesson they kept learning.

With Whumper, they never knew what was going to come. When they walked down the basement stairs, Whumpee didn’t know until they could see their face whether Whumper was pissed or calm. They never when the door would open—if the door would open. There had been times where Whumper had just left them alone, for days on end, with nothing to occupy them but a plastic water bottle and their thoughts.

This time, it was worse.

The anxiety ate away at them every waking moment. It twisted their stomach, not allowing them to even sip at the water Whumper left on the bottom of the stairs without getting sick.

They hadn’t spoken to them since that day. It had to have been over a week ago by now. Hell, Whumpee hadn’t even seen them since then. Whumper left everything at the bottom of the steps, water and scattered meals.

Whumper didn’t used to feed them regularly, whenever they remembered really, but now it seemed like they had fallen into a loose pattern. They always came when Whumpee was asleep, left a bowl filled with oatmeal or soup, or even one time some porridge with some slices of bananas on top. Whumpee had been a bit suspicious then—well, more than a bit. It was Whumper after all—that it was poisoned, but they were hungry and had thought damned if it was. The fruit hadn’t settled right in their stomach, not after so long surviving on the most bland mush, but it hadn’t been laced with anything except a bit of honey.

They thought the fear would get better with time, but it didn’t. The anxiety worsened every hour, until they found themself sitting leaned against the support by the stairs, as far as the chain wrapped around their ankle allowed them to stretch, watching the door.

That was where Whumper found them, an indeterminable amount of time later, the only change in their position being how they had shifted from sitting to laying, head propped on their elbow as a makeshift pillow.

Whumper’s face was an expressionless mask as they bent down, picking up the old empty bowl. Instead of turning on their heel and marching back up the stairs like they usually did, they hesitated.

Whumpee startled as Whumper prodded them in the ribs with the toe of their shoe, jolting back before they had even opened their eyes, chain rattling with them.

They stared up, lips parted slightly as they drew in a trembling breath, fear sparking to life in their eyes. Whumper didn’t make any move to follow them as they slid back.

Whumper reached into their back pocket with one hand, fishing out a ring with a single key on it. They tossed it to Whumpee, or more accurately, dropped it in front of them, letting the metal clatter against the concrete floor.

“You can come upstairs and wash off.” Was all they mumbled, returning back up the stairs before Whumpee could register what they had said, leaving their captive alone in the empty basement with the key to their shackles.

———————————————

@themerrywhumpofmay

[autobot2001]

Warning

@mediwhumpmay: bleeding out @themerrywhumpofmay: creepy basement (Snippet from Hidden Killer) TW: graphic depictions of violence, mention of rape

Victoria Hunt walks down the street, hand on her gun. She has no choice but to walk down the sidewalk alone. She is not pleased her car is in the shop and the bus stop isn't right in front of her home. She knows it's foolish to think the city is large; what's the chance the Holiday Killer would find them.

Along with the Holiday Killer case, Optimus and Prowl are invested in cases that could lead to him, like missing person cases. Since it seems the Holiday Killer doesn't have a pattern for his targets. It's been a mix of people who knew him and strangers. This time the police were told the missing person knew the Holiday Killer. Adding urgency to finding them alive.

"That does sound fun, but I don't want a kid; not like I can keep any captive alive while hiding in the N.E.S.T. base." Fuck, he knows I'll be dead before anyone finds where we are. Victoria realizes. Not any better than being raped and held captive to ensure I have his baby. Austin smiles, hearing Victoria scream in pain as he cuts her abdomen. A few deep cuts with a lot of blood. He tells her he won't return for days to deal with her dead body and leaves. Smiling, hearing Victoria beg him to help her as he walks away. Victoria only thinks of writing a warning using her blood. If she's not found until after she dies, she is hopefully saving anyone who is Austin's target.

"They found her," Prowl tells Prime, not hiding his disappointment, "slow death by bleeding out. Interestingly, she was told something, and she wrote a warning with her blood; N.E.S.T." "The Holiday Killer told her a target is in this base?" Optimus questions. "But not a name, so this isn't much help." Both hope to figure out who's the target within the base quickly.

[shes-some-other-where]

Deserving sinners

Prompt: Rock

Contains: death mention, mine collapse, cruel law enforcement, desperation

An accident, or retribution earned? Rocks rained from the ceiling: the wrath of vengeful gods hurling punishment onto the heads of deserving sinners?

Some survived. Some didn’t.

The prisoner heard the rabble from where he toiled: crack, thud, fatal thunder, burying men whose chains did not permit them to flee.

He believed them when they said it was an accident. To kill, to permanently maim, their captive workforce? Folly.

He saw, though, the callousness in their eyes. The detachment in their voices when they ordered the men to go back down the next morning.

He decided then.

I’m getting out.

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

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All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.