Who: Rachel Young, Silas Henderson & Nate Henderson What: They've sort of been locked up for three weeks When: Forward dated to Monday, September 15th 2014 Where: Sinister's underground lair (location TBD) Warnings: Gruesome flashbacks, talk of torture & death, trigger warnings
Rachel's eyes opened slowly to a bright light. Not a light at the end of a tunnel sort of light, but a bright fluorescent that glared down at her above her head, forcing her to flinch before shutting her eyes to escape it. Where was she? For one long, blissful moment, she forgot what happened. Where she'd been for the last three weeks, though she had no idea it'd been that long. Time had no meaning down here.
Down here.
Then reality hit her like a ton of bricks and she shuddered, her body feeling like it was collapsing in on itself as she became aware of the searing pain ripping through her all at once. She'd gone to Silas's place looking for Nate, only to find no one and then nothing. Everything went black, and when she woke up, she was shackled to a wall. That first day was a haze. She knew she was drugged, she could feel something working its way through her system. At some point the pain of thirst and hunger pushed its way past the drug cloud, and she remembered thinking it couldn't get much worse than this. She was wrong.
Silas was relentless. His cruel face flashed in front of her memory and Rachel whimpered, eyes still shut tight as she tried to block out the intruding memories. The knife went deeper every time, and Rachel tried not to scream at first. She hadn't wanted to give him the satisfaction of screaming, and Nate was watching from somewhere. Silas had told her the video feed went directly into wherever he was keeping Nate, and she'd tried to hold it together for him. But she was only human, and at some point after that all she could hear were her own screams. A week and a half went by and her entire body was covered in blood, cuts, and bruises from when he got tired of the knife and just started hitting her. She had no idea where Nate was, or what Silas was doing to him when he wasn't in here with her. She tried to be as defiant as possible to anger him, to keep Silas from leaving the room and doing anything to Nate. At some point, Silas started taking her skin in pieces, and that's when she started begging.
And then she died.
A small whimper escaped Rachel's throat, remembering that last, terrifying moment before everything finally went black for the last time. Nothing happened. There was no tunnel, no white light. She just stopped existing. Rachel was nowhere and nothing, and then... she woke up. There was confusion, a moment where she hadn't been sure if she'd dreamed this all up or not. Had she died? That heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach and the excruciating pain she was in told her that yes. She had died. But Silas had brought her back, and she didn't understand how or why. Was he not done with her? How much more could he possibly do to them?
She slipped in and out of consciousness for the next few days, until today, when she woke up and for the first time didn't feel like she was in a permanently drugged out haze. The downside to that was that she felt her pain more immediately, and that's when her eyes snapped open, trying to sit up and being immediately met with restraints. She pulled against them in a panic, straining her body to one side and realizing she was on a table. The same table he'd put her on sometimes to pump her full of things to keep her alive before everything went dark. The pain was unbearable, so much that it felt like her skin hurt. She strained her neck to look down at herself and saw to some degree of relief and horror that he'd grafted the pieces of skin he'd taken back on, ugly red scars glaring back at her as an unpleasant reminder of what he'd done. Rachel pulled against her restraints again because she couldn't do anything else. She still didn't even know where she was, or if anyone else could hear her. When she called out, her voice was barely more than a croak. "H-hello? Can anyone hear me?"