Chapter Text
You should’ve just let yourself be sold to a vibrant-colored window. At least then you’d probably get to keep both your fucking eyes. Maybe you’d even escape before any lasting damage (physical and psychological) could have been done. But no. You just had to run your stupid mouth and now there are recordings of you in a snuff stream somewhere on the internet. That man-hybrid- whatever the fuck he was, threw you to hell.
And the worst part was, that he brought you back. You were planning on dying, courtesy of ‘chat’, you welcomed it. But he decided at the last minute to have a change of heart as you started to feel your intestines fall out of your stomach (courtesy of you and a knife.).
So, here you are. You still have no clue where the fuck ‘here’ is, but at least it’s not a metal chamber with a cat poster mocking you. No ‘here’ was much nicer, well, maybe not nicer- but definitely fancier. You never really got to look around the room much, you went by the day’s heavily influenced by drugs. You think you’ve been in the room for at least a month or two, and your eye among other self-induced wounds has been healing quite quickly. You’re still not fully healed though, but at least you’re not wrapped head to toe in bandages anymore. The only bandage left was the one on your torso, the wound that almost cost you your life. The wound that would’ve let you escape.
At first, you thought you did die, the room you're in is extremely minimalist. You can only see so many shades of white and grey before you start thinking you're in heaven. It might as well have been hell because as soon as you woke up, he was there. You forget most of what he said, being hooked on a bunch of drugs will do that, but one word has been stuck in your mind.
“Mine.”
He didn’t say it outwardly. Honestly, you’re almost sure you imagined it with how he muttered it under his breath. But then, when you looked up at him in a hazy confusion, he was staring right back.
You shiver a bit at the memory if it even happened. You’re still holding onto hope that this is a bad dream. One that you’ll wake up from at any second. But you never do.
You remove your arms from the cozy blankets, seeing that you’ve been dressed, again. You’re thankful it’s not some girly, frilly, lingerie. Instead, you’re wearing some kind of anime shirt and a pair of what feels like basketball shorts. Hesitantly you also bring a hand up to your missing eye… yup, still gone. You press along the still-tender flesh, wincing a bit at the slight shocks of pain.
Good. You weren’t on any drugs today. The lack of depth perception made getting out of bed much harder than it should’ve been. It didn’t help that you were basically swaddled from the waist down in the blankets.
Admis your struggling you begin to think this was to prevent you from escaping rather than for comfort. You hear footsteps from the outside hallway. Shit. You immediately stop struggling, freezing when you hear the jangling of keys. Of course, this psycho locked you in here. You can hear every click of the lock, and soon the door is slowly opening. With your heart hammering in your throat, you decide to lie back down and pretend that you're still sleeping. You don’t want to see him. He should just let you rot in here. You try to control your heart rate as you hear his boots loudly make their way to your direction.
You swear you can feel him when he’s right next to the bed. Every calm breath he takes almost suffocates you. You feel the bed dip, is he sitting on the bed? You try to not react when a clawed hand cups your cheek, a gesture that would be loving if it wasn’t coming from the man looming above you. No, no. This wasn’t love, it was a threat.
He lets out a huff of breath, “You do realize that I can tell that you’re faking right?” His voice is quiet and amused, almost as if he’s sharing a secret with you. Your body goes cold, you don’t know what to do. On one hand, opening your eyes means that you’ll have to look at him, on the other, if you keep pretending he’ll probably get annoyed and probably take out your other eye.
It was a tough decision to make.
…You do ultimately decide to keep your one good eye. Even if that means you have to actually see him while you’re not in a drugged haze. You hesitantly open your eyes and you see ‘Fox’ staring down at you, an amused smile extenuating his crow's feet that crinkle his eyes. No matter how innocent the expression was, you can’t help but feel a subtle unease.
“See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?” The way he says it is almost childishly mocking. His thumb rubs circles onto your cheek, his claw scraping against the flesh of it. Reminding you that at any second your cheek could be bleeding. You remain silent, meeting his unwavering gaze with your blank expression. You try to will him to leave you alone, trying your best to not show any signs of fear. After a few moments, his smile falters a bit and his eye starts to twitch. His thumb stopped in its tracks and his nail is now pointing into your skin, threatening to go deeper as his grip on your cheek becomes almost painful. You hiss through your teeth but stay otherwise silent. He doesn’t like that. “Well! Aren’t you going to say something?- Anything?!” He starts to dig his nail into the flesh of your cheek a little more, breaking skin. You feel it pierce you as blood starts to bead up at the cut.
You hiss at the intrusion as you give in to his demand, “What do you want me to say..?” God, your voice is rough from lack of use. Every word feels like it’s burning as it leaves your esophagus. ‘Fox’ gives your cheek one last squeeze before he lets you go, a pleased smile on his face. He grabs a glass of water from the nightstand and raises it to your lips.
“I think a thank you would be nice. I did save your life after all.” His tone is smug, you fight the urge to glare at him. Instead, you eye the water suspiciously, the water’s probably drugged. Fox notices your hesitation and he rolls his eyes, “I wouldn’t spend this much money just to poison you. Now drink the fucking water, before I change my mind.” Not one to bite the hand that feeds you, you open your mouth and allow him to pour some of the water into your mouth. You gulp it down greedily, the coolness of the water soothing your throat almost instantly. After the glass is half empty, ‘Fox’ removes it from your lips and sets it back down on the bedside table. It’s at this point that you notice that he’s not wearing the usual all-black entourage. He’s wearing what you can only assume is some anime t-shirt that’s a bit faded with age, with a couple of loose threads coming out of the sleeves.
It’s also at this moment you notice the chair right next to your bed, the fucker has a chair right at your bedside. You almost shiver at the thought that he would come in, sit in that chair, and just watch you sleep. He rests his forearms on your bed, leaning closer to you, an expectant look on his face.
The fuck does this guy want now?
..Oh yeah, right.
You choke down your pride, “..Thank you.” You kind of wished he cut out your tongue instead of your eye. He looks extremely smug, but not quite satisfied with your thank you yet. “...for saving my life.” You resist the urge to grit your teeth.
“Well, you’re very welcome! You know after that little stunt you pulled I had to extort a lot of resources to take care of your injuries properly.” ‘Fox’ says, his tone indicating that he blames you for the fact that you almost died on his stream. You try not to glare as he continues, “Especially since I can’t take you to an actual hospital, I had to convert this old bedroom into the closest thing to one. Not to mention I am a bit rusty when it comes to patching someone up…” His voice trails off as if he’s remembering something.
“...Where am I exactly?” You ask, cutting off his thoughts.
“You’re at my place, obviously.” ‘Fox’ says, like it should be common knowledge. As if you wouldn’t be anywhere else. He leans back, hands clasped behind his head. “You know, I haven’t kept anyone for a while, especially not in this place.” ‘Fox’ says wistfully.
You pause, what the hell does he mean by ‘keeping someone’?
“Um, ‘kept’?” You say as a sense of uneasiness settles over you.
He just stares at you for a few moments before smiling, “What? Did you think I would just let you go after one bad stream?” He talks as if this is some kind of inside joke. He barks out a laugh, “God if you did that’d be real fucking stupid.” ‘Fox's smile is all teeth, he is way too carefree about this entire situation. “The only thing that’s changing is scenery, location, and you’ll no longer be on streams.” He looks thoughtful for a moment before he leans forward and folds his arms over his knees, “Well, unless you want to do more streams.” He has an intense look in his eyes, the one you know all too well. You quickly shake your head, no, you never want to do that ever again. He laughs once more, “I’m joking, even if you did ask I wouldn’t let you.” ‘Fox’ speaks almost like he genuinely believes you would ask.
You swallow your spit nervously, not really knowing how to react. His eyes follow the motion intently. Your mouth suddenly feels extremely dry. “May I have some more water, please?” You try to sound as sweet as you possibly can given your circumstances. Knowing that it’s probably in your best interest to ask him to give you more water than to have you grab it yourself. In reward, his smile becomes much softer and he grabs the water glass once again and holds it to your lips. You drink it down to the last drop, trying to ignore the fact he’s staring at you the entire time.
After you’re finished, he removes the glass from your lips and puts it back in its original place. He suddenly stands up, “How about we get you out of this room yeah? Maybe get you something to eat.” Your stomach growls in response, much to your dismay. You try to untangle yourself from the blankets once more before ‘Fox’ holds up a hand making you stop. “Let me, you might mess up your stitches doing that.” If you were both two different people you’d say he’s doing this out of care, and not because you’d be wasting his money if you open an old wound.
‘Fox’ gently removes the blanket from your body, his eyes focused as his hands carefully work. Once you’re finally free, you can’t help but shiver due to the cold air in the room. You slowly move yourself so you're sitting up, feet dangling off the side of the bed, ‘Fox’ right next to you, watching you cautiously.
You take a deep breath before you plant your feet on the cold hard floor. Your legs wobble a bit, but other than that you seemed fine to walk. So you attempt to take a step forward… bad idea. You immediately start to lose your balance, arms flailing out, trying to regain it. Before you could fall, he puts one of your arms over his shoulders and puts his hand on your lower back for support. “Alright, you can’t walk by yourself, noted.”
God this is humiliating. First, you get kidnapped, and now you’re pretty much dependent on him. Great, just great.
You let him lead you out of the one room you knew into a hallway that seems like it hasn’t been touched in years. Dust decorates the shelves along the walls that are barren otherwise. He helps you down a set of stairs and the first thing you notice is the front door. You look at the sun shining through its windows longingly, if your legs worked properly then you would’ve made a break for it. But in the meantime, he leads you into a small kitchen area. ‘Fox’ removes your arm off his shoulder and makes you grab the counter for support. He hovers around you for a few moments, making sure you won’t fall over anytime soon. Once he’s satisfied, he begins looking through the different cabinets and the fridge.
“So, are you in the mood for anything? I had a few of my guys restock on food here.. and I’m not too bad of a cook so I could probably whip up something. Unless you’d rather takeout instead…” He rambles off the different options, cereal, pasta, ramen, soup, steak with potatoes, etc etc… honestly you stopped paying attention after the first couple of choices.
You didn’t feel it was that important until you noticed he stopped talking, and he was expecting an answer. Fuck. You scramble out a response, trying to not make it seem like you weren’t listening to a word he said. “Um, I’m not really sure… how about you pick?” Nailed it.
‘Fox’ thinks it over carefully before speaking up again. “How about some soup? Now that I’m thinking about it, it might not be the best idea to start giving you solid food yet. All things considered.” He turns his back to you and starts rummaging through the cabinets again, “I think I saw some chicken noodle around here somewhere…” With nothing better to do, you watch as he searches for the soup can, his tail subtly wagging as he goes from place to place.
Honestly, you couldn't help but think that he’s cute when he’s not trying to make you bleed for entertainment. Especially now that you see him in natural light instead of blinding fluorescent or in an almost pitch-black room. He looks relaxed, almost happy even, and if your sanity was lower, maybe you’d want to stay like this, with him. Too bad you still have the mind to know that is the last thing you want.
He makes a small ‘aha!’ When he finally finds the soup can, he makes fast work of preparing it. Almost as if he’d done it millions of times before. He rinses out two ceramic bowls, probably because there was dust build up on them, and he scoops some of the soup into the two bowls. You watch as he hums to himself and brings the two bowls into what you assume is the living room before he walks back empty-handed.
“Alright, the soups in the living room, do you want to try walking by yourself again or would you like my help?” As he talks he grabs two spoons from a drawer, he seems like he almost forgot them at first.
You weigh the options in your head, he seems relatively stable at this moment, and based on how tight your grip is on the countertop, there was an obvious choice and it wasn’t letting yourself face plant onto the hard floor.
“Could you help me?” You sound so pathetic, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He wraps your arm around his shoulders once more and leads you to the living room area, leading you to a couch. As you sit down, you notice something on the wall out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head fully towards it and you identify what it is almost immediately. There’s a chain attached to the wall next to you, a long, heavy chain that ends right where your ankle is. You’re filled with dread as you realize what that chain might be used for.
“Oh, don’t worry I won’t need to lock you up,” He pauses for a moment before speaking up again, “Well, we won’t need to use it unless you, you know, misbehave.” The sweet smile on his face contradicts his borderline-threatening words. You nervously smile in return as he passes you your soup, the bowl warming your palms. He places your spoon into it and sits down next to you. Like, right next to you, like you need a microscope to be able to see any distance between your thighs. You both eat in a very uncomfortable silence, the only noise is the old house settling. He clears his throat, “So… do you want to watch a movie? I’m sure there’s still a few around here somewhere..?” Of a guy who’s keeping you here against your will, he’s awfully accommodating. You slurp up some more of the surprisingly tasty and not drugged soup before you answer.
“Uh, sure? Anything in mind..?”
‘Fox’ Immediately lights up at your agreement, almost shooting up from where he was once seated. “Wait right here, I’ll go check!” You see his tail wag behind him as he kneels in front of a cabinet under the TV. You watch him as he sifts through different DVD cases with excitement, you watch as he picks up a few unlabeled cases, and hope to whoever the fuck is there that he doesn’t make you watch some of his old ‘shows’. ‘Fox’ narrows it down to two unlabeled DVD’s his ears twitch as he turns back to you, holding one in each hand, “Pick one.” Your blood goes cold with his tone. He has this look in his eyes as if instead of picking a movie, you were picking your execution method.
You wouldn’t put it past him to save you, and then kill you over picking the wrong one. He did seem like the type. You break out into a cold sweat, making you involuntarily shiver. His nose twitches, he’s quickly running out of patience. In a panic, as if suddenly regaining movement in your limbs, you point to the one in his right hand.
‘Fox’ smiles at your decision, his moods really are fickle. He throws the other DVD behind him, not caring of the disk gets damaged.
“Good choice! This one’s my favorite..”
He pops it into the player and sets the TV on before sitting next to you once more. ‘Fox’ makes himself quite comfortable beside you, not quite cuddling but excruciatingly close to you. You don’t really pay much attention to what’s on the screen but you pick up on a few details. First off it was certainly something anime, and it seemed to be about a bunch of really tiny people living in normal-sized people’s houses and stealing bits of food to survive.
You’re sure you would’ve enjoyed it if you could pay attention to it. With him sitting so close it became an impossible task. You know that in your current state of being, he could do whatever he wanted and you couldn’t do anything to stop it. He knew it as well -no- he knew it more than you ever could. So every slight movement had you tense up and fear that any second he’d put that info to use.
However, that doesn’t happen. ‘Fox’ seems more than happy to just sit next to you, even while the ending credits roll. You both sit there in an almost comfortable silence until his voice breaks it.
“It’s been a while since I’ve watched one of these, probably a decade…” ‘Fox’s voice is soft with what you can only assume is nostalgia. You tear your eyes away from the screen and your eyes meet. Of course, he was staring at you. He’s smiling, not the one you’ve seen countless times for his streams. This one seems genuine, content, makes him look younger in a way. It was one of those smiles where you couldn’t help but smile back at him.
For a moment you forgot who the man beside you was or how you got there. You forgot all the vile things, the reason you're now missing an eye and riddled with scars. Maybe it’s because you’re tired, oh so very tired, but another reason gnaws at the back of your brain hoping to eat it from the inside out.
So when he started to lean his face closer to yours, you mirrored his actions. You just felt so warm, like you were lounging by a fireplace on a rainy day. You close your eyes to try to enhance the feeling, you hear him let out a chuff of laughter and you feel lips being pressed to your cheek, right under your missing eye.
“Looks like someone’s getting sleepy.” ‘Fox’ comments as he pulls away, you open your eyes as he does. He pats your head, “Before we get you ready for bed I have a surprise for you!” He jumps up from the couch with excitement you didn’t even know he was capable of and he disappears around a corner.
You’re alone in the living room, the front door is in your direct line of sight. This could be it, your chance at escaping..
…Escaping to what though? You have no idea where you are. Even if you did, what are you hoping to get back to? Your shitty apartment? Your shitty job? Your really weird neighbors?
You look at the chain near the wall again. Is escaping even worth it? You space out for a bit until he appears back into your vision with something hiding behind his back. However by then, it’s too late, he notices your unease with the chain. ‘Fox’s happy demeanor suddenly sours.
“I told you you shouldn’t worry about that.” He almost hisses out, “Stop looking at it like that!” His voice raises through gritted teeth. Your eyes immediately snap to him fully, trying to not look at the chain from the corner of your eye. ‘Fox’ stares at you for a moment before letting out a huff of frustration shaking his head, trying to calm himself down. Acting as if you were more of a misbehaving dog than an actual person on his couch. He plasters on another smile, more forced, “Anyways, look what I’ve got for you!” ‘Fox’ reveals what was behind his back.
It’s a thick piece of metal that looks an awful lot like a collar. That dog comment is really coming to bite at you.
“Um, what’s that?” You ask worried about what he intends to do with the heavy piece of scrap metal.
He looks slightly surprised by the question, “It’s.. it’s a shock collar!” There’s a pause as his words sink in, “For you!” The room is suddenly ice-cold.
“I’m not wearing that.” The words come out before you can think about it. His face drops once again.
“What did you just say to me?” His tone is emotionless, your veins are filled with white cold fear as you begin to sweat. He lets out an unamused chuckle, “You know… it’s cute you still think you have a choice in anything.” Before you could even blink he pounced on you tackling you to the couch collar in hand. You try to struggle as best as you can but in your condition, you're too weak to push him off. Eventually, he forces the collar onto your throat. You're both panting and he rises to straddle your lap keeping you down as he holds a remote in one of his hands. “Now I think this is the perfect time to test your collar, don’t you?” You look up at his toothly smile with wide eyes tears forming in your tear ducts. He presses a button on the remote and suddenly you’re hit with blinding hot pain. You scream with pain as it rattles your system before it finally stops. He looks down at you with a fake sympathetic look, “Whoops! Seems like it was on the highest setting!” He turns a knob and presses the button once again, you’re filled with more agony as you begin to full on cry.
“Fox! Please I’m- I’m sorry!-” You sob out, and he pauses for a second. The pain stops momentarily.
“My name is Ren.” He says suddenly.
“Wh- what?” You ask, not quite understanding what he said while your veins still feel like they’re on fire. He roughly grips your chin, his claws causing it to bleed.
“My name. Say it.” Ren raises his other hand that has the remote, his thumb hovering over the button.
“Ren! Your name is Ren!”
Suddenly he crashes his lips onto yours his grip on your chin making it impossible for you to escape it. He bites your lower lip hard enough to draw blood and he pulls away panting, his lips and chin stained red from your blood. You definitely don't look any better.
“You’re mine, my property. You’d do better to remember that.” And Ren harshly shoves your chin from his grip and gets up. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and retreats upstairs not uttering another word to you.
You just lay there utterly depleted as the blood on your lips crusts up. Eventually, you fall into an uncomfortable dreamless sleep, wishing it to be all over soon.