Only people she wants to shoot call her Neena (ex_luckbeala72) wrote in wihh_logs, @ 2009-11-02 11:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | cable, dominick thurman, domino, halloween fear!plot |
backdated
Who: Domino and her family
What: worst fears plot
Where: her home in Massachusetts
Warnings: Dear fucking God, yes. Don't read this. Just seriously, don't.
Domino knew something was wrong when she woke up and her body was numb. She was blindfolded, but she only figured that out after a moment. Beside being numb, she was held down. There was a strap across her forehead, she could feel that one easily. The others were harder to feel, she couldn't shift to see where they were. She was cold, that was why her skin was numb. That probably meant she was naked.
This did not bode well. There were sounds all around her, whimpering and crying. She was with other people. "Hello?" Her voice was cautious, since she wasn't sure she wanted to be heard.
"Momma!" There were two voices that responded in unison to that. Both belonged to little girls. "Maggie, Moira?"
Moira stopped crying, even as Domino felt something heavy and horrible sink into her stomach. "Where are we, Mom?" The little girl didn't sound as worried. Her parents were here, and they were going to save her.
Domino swallowed the lump in her throat, having just begun to realize how bad this might be. "I don't know, baby. Have you been awake long?"
The next voice came from right above Domino, and it made her body jolt. "No. You all just woke up." His voice was familiar. Very, very familiar. The mask lifted, and Domino was momentarily blinded, before staring up into the face that she had come to hate so many years ago. "You'll wish you hadn't soon enough."
"Tolliver." There was rage in her voice, even as her worst fears were realized. He meant what he said. "You think I won't help kill you again? I escaped last time, and Cable trashed your ass like the pansy ass little loser you are."
He chuckled a little, eyes alight with horrible, horrible things. "I don't think Cable's going to be a problem, Dom." She tilted the platform she was bound to up a bit, so she could see. There were four shapes hanging on the wall. It took Domino a long time to register what they were. She gasped when she did, her heart wrenching in her chest, even as she curled her hands into fists. The shapes were heads, hung upside down by their necks, like they were flowers hanging to dry. Cable's was first, and easiest to spot, the skin ripped away to reveal the T.O. virus that hid below.
Phil's blue hair identified him, shining like silver in the harsh lab lights. The last two were Michael and Steven, their heads like small melons, the hair cropped so short it was difficult to see from her position. Tolliver moved out of Domino's peripheral vision.
"And who do we have here?" His voice was cruel, coming from the direction of her daughter's voices. Domino focused with all her might on her powers, willing him to fall and break a leg, or die of anyeurism, or get a nose bleed, or anything but whatever he had planned. "What are their names, Domino?"
She was speaking before she could think. "Leave them alone. God, please. Do whatever you want to me, I'll willingly submit to you for the rest of my life, but leave them alone."
She couldn't see, but she hear Moira squeal softly. "Hmmm, that's tempting. Your daughter's still so young. . . even the oldest one doesn't have a proper set of tits yet." Moira yelped again and began to cry. "Still, that will just make it easier for her to be trained. You're too old to be programmed, Domino. I've seen the show, and know your limits. But you'll be able to give me children, when I want them. But I think my dear little sister will be the first to receive my attentions."
The sound of clothing falling away was not really that loud, in the grand scheme of things. But it rang in Domino's ears, audible even over Moira's crying. Domino couldn't take this, couldn't listen as he raped her daughter.
Before she could scream a strong pair of hands grabbed her head, shoving a gag into her mouth. The tie across her forehead came free, and the hands guided her head up. She could see Maggie, locked in a cage on the floor like a dog. Her arm was bent at a bad angle, but she was clothed and not being paid attention to. At least there was that. Her vision kept moving, though, until it fell squarely on her older daughter, and the crazed man who was pawing at her.