cw: beatings, broken bones, implied/referenced abuse
Caretaker is a kind person. Really.
Their kindness only extends so far, though… and unfortunately for Whumper, they lay just out of its reach.
Swinging a bat, Caretaker smiles as the wood meets Whumper’s ribs, a sickening crunch echoing throughout the room as Whumper hacks and coughs, tears streaming down their eyes and mixing with the snot pouring out of their nose. Caretaker hits them again, high on the sound of Whumper’s ribs giving in and shattering. Whumper cries out in pain. As if they didn’t hear it, Caretaker winds up and swings again. The bat smashes into Whumper's ribs.
“Stop,” Whumper heaves. “Please. I-I’ve learned my lesson.”
“You don’t get to decide that.” Caretaker walks to Whumper’s left and brings the bat back, then hits their ribcage with all of the might they can muster.
Whumper screams. “I-I swear,” they plead. “I’m sorry for what I did to Whumpee. I really am.”
Caretaker looks up, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
“Really! I… I know an apology doesn’t cut it, but I’m sorry.”
“Then I guess you can go now—oops, sorry, my hand slipped.”
Whumper screams as the other side of their ribcage fractures under the force of Caretaker’s rage, every breath of theirs growing more and more ragged with every swing.
Dropping the bat, Caretaker sets their hands on their knees. “Did you,” they breathe, “did you really think I’d let you go?”
“Is-Isn’t that what you wanted? An apology?”
Maniacal laughter fills the air as Caretaker clutches their sides. They wipe a tear away. Whumper’s a pretty good comedian.
“Wh-What the hell are you laughing for?”
Caretaker stands up straight, tears still streaming down their face as they hold back chuckles. “Do you think an apology would fix anything? Do you think it’d magically make Whumpee better? Why the fuck would I want an apology? No, those aren’t the questions I should be asking… The question I should be asking is why did it take this for you to realize what you did was wrong? Do you not have any compassion? How could you possibly justify what you did to Whumpee?”
“You…” Whumper looks down at their floor, eyebrows knitted. “I’m not—”
“You’re not what, hmm? You’re not the bad guy? I don’t care if your dad beat you or if you got bullied at school. I don’t give a shit. You lost your right to any sort of sympathy when you did what you did to Whumpee.”
Whumper opens their mouth. Caretaker swings the bat right into their jaw, knocking out Whumper’s teeth, and they don’t stop until every single one of their teeth are on the floor.
