Madigan smiles down at the controller in their hands. If they don’t think about it too hard, the motions come more easily, the tapping of fingers, the swivel of a joystick. They’re nowhere near as good at this as Michael, but they’re improving, and they can tell it makes their owner happy. They turn to him, fully expecting the proud and beaming grin spread across his face.
What they don’t expect is his hand, raised high in the air.
For a second, Madigan freezes, an overwhelming torrent of thought flowing through their brain. Then, a fraction of a second too late, they’re cringing hard against the couch cushions.
Stunned by the open fear on their face, Michael doesn’t notice the delay. “M-Mad?”
“S-sorry, sir.” Madigan knows their voice sounds strained. They can’t fix it, can’t make themselves sound right. The stricken look on Michael’s face isn’t going away, and Madigan is so tense they’re almost vibrating, unsure what to do.
Then, Michael is throwing his arms around them.
It takes too long for Madigan to relax their muscles. Mistake after mistake piles up – flinching and the voice and now holding their muscles tense against their owner. Real fear raises its head, drums its beating feet against Madigan’s chest.
“Someone really did a number on you.”
Michael’s voice isn’t muffled; it’s actually too loud, right against Madigan’s ear. Still shaken from their series of failures, Madigan buys themselves time anyway. “S-sorry?”
Pulling back, Michael looks Madigan in the eye, so earnest it almost hurts. Automatically, Madigan drops their gaze, but Michael tilts their chin right back up. Naked fear plays on their face, and naked pity on his. Madigan’s stomach twists.
After a pause that’s much too long for Madigan’s liking, Michael shakes his head. “Someone really hurt you, huh?”
“Y-yeah.” Once again, Madigan finds they can’t look Michael in the eye. They turn their face from him, only to be gently brought back by the touch of fingers. From the look in his eyes, they can tell he wants more, so reluctantly, they give it to him. “My…my first owner.”
Just saying the words tastes like defeat. It feels like admitting fault, a fault that’s not temporary, but lasting and unforgivable. It makes Madigan want to squirm, but Michael has one arm around their shoulders and one hand on their face, so they hold still. It takes just about all the self-control they have, but they hold still.
An unfamiliar look takes over Michael’s features. Brows crash down, eyes narrow, mouth pulls into a fearsome scowl. He’s angry. For the first time, after a month in Michael’s home, their owner is angry. “Fuck them,” he growls, and for a moment, fear thrills through Madigan as they forget who he’s talking about. When he sees their eyes widen, Michael shakes his head.
“Your old owner, I mean. Whoever they are, fuck them.”
“O-oh.” Trapped, Madigan’s eyes dart from their knees to Michael’s face to the wall behind his head. They can’t agree, can they? To agree would be the highest form of disrespect. But then, they can hardly disagree with their owner.
Before Madigan can spiral even worse about this new dilemma, Michael rescues them. He squeezes them tight against his chest once more, then releases them. “Listen. We won’t do high fives for a while. I get it, it’s scary.”
Somehow, Madigan doubts that Michael has any idea what it is to be scared at the hands of another. Still, they nod, eyes fixed on their owner’s face.
“I know you had…I mean, you must’ve had just, an awful experience before. But I won’t be like that, okay? You can trust me.”
Trust him. Madigan would laugh if they knew how. Instead, they nod, numb as they’ve ever been.
“I know that’s hard to believe, but really, Mad. You can trust me. You’ll see. This is going to be different.”
For the first time, Madigan nods in true agreement. Whatever this thing is with Michael, it is definitely going to be different from anything they’ve ever known.
Content Warning: BBU, hopelessness, reference of past abuse, vague reference to past noncon/sexual touching.
Freedom is an empty word. An offering of false reassurance that often comes in some variant of, ‘your life is your own, you’re in control now.’
It’s the type of nonsense tossed around by those who have never experienced the crack of a whip across their shoulders, a confined space unable to be exited. The crawl of fingers over their skin, ones that caress and dig and take what no longer belongs to them.
Those things, they never fade. They cling to body and mind and soul like invisible bars, caging them in. They stay with the ones who have suffered, the ones used and abused and abandoned. The ones like Alexis.
So when, sitting at the top of the stairs that curve out of view, they hear that promise spoken to the safehouse’s newest bastard, they know it means about as much as algebra does to a mutt.
A round of introductions drift up the stairs, and Alexis knows them all already. The images of them, their mannerisms, so burned into their brain that they can safely guess where each is standing.
Olivia, delivery driver and safehouse owner, a large and oblivious woman with a voice that’s soft and a brain that’s soggy. Probably in the vicinity of the drab armchair she practically obsesses over. Some family hand-me-down type of bullshit.
Mallory, willowy and easy on the eyes, competent but sparse - she divides her attention between multiple safehouses and her job as a secretary to some big shot nobody. No doubt she’s sharing air with the new rescue she delivered. She always hovers.
And Ian.
A newer volunteer a couple months in - or perhaps it’s been longer, Alexis never has been good with time - who they have witnessed go from the delicate uncertainty of someone new to a line of work, to a tentative… something darker.
Alexis sees it sometimes. In the subtle hitch of his breath at the sight of a flinch, and the way his eyes come alight when a rescue complies with ingrained obedience. They had heard it in the roar of his voice and his choice of word when he screamed respect at the volatile domestic.
If asked to elaborate on their stance of ‘freedom,’ Alexis would point their finger at him. The man is a fleshy fact that has solidified their belief that no one once owned is ever free. The locations evolve, the faces change, but all they are are different forms of cages.
Ian is likely hanging back, observing from one doorway or another, with arms crossed and eyes on the latest addition to this ramshackle group of theirs.
The approach of footsteps to the base of the stairs makes Alexis rise, a hand habitually touching to the faded grey beanie sitting askew atop their head. It or a cousin is always there, even in the summer months, save for when they catch short stretches of sleep.
Olivia is leading their newest addition to his - or hers, or theirs, Alexis has not heard them speak yet - quarters. The soft echo of her voice in the stairway proceeds her.
On silent feet Alexis pads the length of the hall, mindful of the creaky spot on the carpeted floor and maneuvering around it. Compulsively they run their fingers over the edge of a wintery forest painting as they pass it.
Before the other occupants can fully ascend the stairs they dip into their room, clutching at the open door and swinging it almost closed. They leave it ajar by a couple of inches, just as they always do. A little reassurance that there remains a way out, a way to escape that particular cage.
Their skin crawls with the awareness that their roommate is regarding them from his position on his bed, back to the wall with a drawing pad perched on his knee. He hasn’t yet chosen a name for himself.
“The new rescue?” he asks.
Alexis shrugs, noncommittal, and avoids his eyes as they leave the door in favor of their bed. They crawl onto it and snag a blanket to wrap securely around themself.
The roommate doesn’t press them. His attention returns to the sketch he’s working on, a thing that vaguely resembles a house, but Alexis is too far away to be certain.
A loose thread on their blanket draws them, and they pick at it as they listen to the opening of the door adjacent to theirs, the step of feet into the vacant room. One set lumbering and the other cautious.
They wonder if the new rescue will be the mutt pretending to understand a thing by way of learning some clever trick. If this new ‘home’ will feel like freedom to them.
Or if they’ll realize, as Alexis does, that this place has all the freedom of a snare caught ‘round the neck of some forsaken hare.
Oh you guys look what you made me do!
Pushing me into the world of tiny winged whumpees that I never knew I needed.
Also I love the idea of magical companies like WRU set in the box boy universe, soooo much!!!
Give me magic realism, where it’s just a normal part of our everyday life <3
CW: dehumanization, captivity, objectification, typical boxboy stuff,
Amalthea stands about 10, 1 inches (25,6cm) tall, the perfect size for all the elaborate doll clothing their oh so kind owner is making for them.
They live a picture perfect life in a picture perfect doll house, enclosed in a pristine polished display case.
They really are so, so grateful.
And Amalthea’s owner loves them so, so much.
All they got to do is keep these horrendous teeth hidden behind these cute plush little lips.
(Dolls really shouldn’t talk anyway now should they?! Especially when they’re only going on and on about disgusting dirty things like petting snails, fighting with thorns for fun or digging up worms to place them in a garden)
“No, no, darling, no crying! You ruin your makeup. Do you have any idea how hard it is to apply it so perfectly?! Do I need to put you in the refrigerator for cool down time again?! No? No, I didn’t think so.”
Amalthea is even one of their owner’s favorite models for her famous art doll exhibitions.
It’s really an honor to have such a renowned artist as an owner. Even at her old age, she is taking such good care of them. Never missing anything Amalthea does.
CW: Abducted whumpee, description of missing person, captivity, BBU/WRU
Where Is Haven Gray?
r/FindTheMissing
•Posted by u/bananasare2appealing
3 days ago
In the summer of 20XX, 21-year-old Haven Gray texted family and friends to let them know a second job interview they’d just finished had gone well, and they expected to be offered the job.
They made plans to have dinner with a couple of friends to celebrate, but never showed up to the restaurant. They were reported missing by their parents later that night and have never been seen again.
Hey, everyone, this is my first attempt at a post like this, so I hope you’ll go easy on me! Haven Gray is a kind of a personal case to me, I went to the same high school a few years behind them and there was still a lot of talk about what could have happened and like, their picture is in a memorial frame in the hallway by the principal’s office. It’s just a really important case to me and I hope they figure out what happened to Haven one day.
Haven Gray was the oldest of three children born to Matthew and Maria Gray in the small town of Trenton, Indiana. Tall, with long wavy red hair and gray eyes, they stood out in a crowd in more ways than one.
Haven set records for their high school’s cross-country track team, played well on the school basketball team, and maintained a 3.5 GPA alongside plenty of extracurriculars and an active social life.
They then spent two years attending Trenton Community College, looking to finish out their degree at Indiana State University and go into the human resources field. They kept up a part-time job on the side, but during the summer before they would move to ISU, they decided to look for full-time work to help save up some money.
Haven’s mother Maria was interviewed after their disappearance by local news station INNW as saying that Haven was very excited about finishing up their degree and moving into their first real apartment.
Haven had seen an ad on a job-hunting website for a receptionist for a temp agency that specialized in placing HR professionals in nearby companies. Seeing a way to get some relevant experience before they finished up their degree, they applied and were contacted for a job interview.
Here’s where things get just a little weird, before they get even weirder.
Haven texted a photo of the strip mall where the job interview was, and noted that the company was not located in a well-maintained place, which made Haven very nervous. The signage also seemed brand new, which conflicted with information on the company website suggesting they’d been in that location for years.
They waited in their car and called the company phone. Only when someone came out to greet them did Haven go inside for the interview.
The first interview went smoothly, and Haven excitedly called their friends and family to say a second interview was already scheduled with the owner of the small company. It turned out, they explained, that the creepy location was no longer the company’s main location, and their second interview would be at a different address in a much nicer part of town.
They did not give any explanation, if any was given to them, about the reason for brand new signage if the business was in the process of leaving that address. On the day of the second interview, one week later, Haven’s mother saw them leaving in a deep blue top with satin detailing at the neck and gray slacks.
They exchanged goodbyes, and Haven reminded their mother they would be meeting friends tonight, either to celebrate a good interview or commiserate over a bad one.
“My comfort,” Maria Gray said in her interview with INNW, “is that I said goodbye and I love you. I have that, at least. So many don’t get that final chance. I just wish I had known it was the last time. I would have looked at them a little longer.”
From here, Haven is seen on camera at their ‘regular’ Starbucks a few moments later, ordering a large (venti) iced latte. An automatic speed-checker camera next to the highway captured their car with license plate clearly visible driving in the direction of the interstate a few minutes later.
Two hours after this sighting, they called a friend, Natalie Morales, to tell her that the interview had gone well and they believed they would be offered the job. Dinner that night, Haven said, would definitely be a celebration.
They texted three other friends, Maria, and Matthew - as well as a younger sibling. These are the last direct communications anyone had with Haven Gray.
“They didn’t sound scared,” Natalie said in her own interview with True Crime Podcast Now You See Them, Now You Don’t. "Not at all. I’ve thought about it over and over again, trying to ask myself, was there fear there? Had something already happened? And I just don’t think so. I think whatever happened, happened after they hung up the phone. They were excited, said the pay rate was way more than they expected for a receptionist job. The only thing is that they said the guy who interviewed them kind of... gave them the, you know. Made the hair on their arms stand up. You know what I mean? And I thought of that first, when they never... but he has an alibi.”
The man in question is Ladd Prescott, the stated owner of the temp agency Haven applied to. Ladd gave multiple interviews, off-camera and to law enforcement, but he did not leave the office and is seen on in-office security cameras and he is not considered a person of interest in the case.
The final image of Haven’s whereabouts that day comes from the CCTV camera at an ATM for Haven’s bank one hour after the final text message sent to their father Matthew. They are seen pulling up in their car to the drive-thru ATM, where they withdrew $300.
Notable about this footage is three things:
1. Haven appears to look directly at the camera twice, deliberately holding their gaze maybe
2. Their hair, carefully styled when they left for the interview according to Maria, is noticeably in disarray, and they do not appear to be wearing the same shirt they had on when they left (the footage is super grainy, so this is hard to tell exactly, but if you check here you can see that they appear to be wearing a white t-shirt).
3. A shadow just behind them moves independently of Haven, gestures a few times, and it appears - and police believe - that someone else is in the car with Haven Gray directing their movements.
Haven never arrived at the restaurant. When their friends attempted to contact them, the phone went directly to voicemail. This was very out of the ordinary for Haven, so friends called Maria and Matthew, who became immediately worried and contacted the police.
Haven Gray officially was listed as a missing person the next day.
Four days later, their car - with IDs, debit and credit card, a book they were reading, and their resume and list of questions from the interview all inside - was located at a nearby riverfront, abandoned. The only thing missing was the $300 in cash Haven had taken out of the ATM, and Haven themself.
A witness came forward later stating they had seen a man with ashy blond hair who appeared to be in his 40′s or 50′s smoking next to the car the day Haven was last seen. This man has never come forward or been located and his connection to Haven’s disappearance, if any, is unknown.
Law enforcement believes that Haven was abducted within half an hour of finishing their interview by someone who forced their way into the car, and likely directed to the ATM to take cash out and then met someone else or moved into a different car after parking Haven’s at the riverfront.
Weirdly, the riverfront was checked the day after Haven was declared missing, which suggests someone came back and moved the car after the witness saw the smoking man, then moved it back into place after the initial search of the area was over with.
Cell towers picked up pings from Haven’s phone for four hours afterward, heading due east. The nearest big city would have been Cincinnati, so it’s possible the abductor headed that direction. If they did, though, they took a winding route and Haven’s phone was turned off or discarded before reaching the city.
Look, I know this is a big conspiracy theory and there’s absolutely no proof, but I think Haven was abducted by WRU.
Why?
Three weeks prior to their disappearance, Haven attended a bar’s “singles night”. They mentioned to friends later that they connected with a man who worked for WRU as a handler, but then decided they couldn’t handle the reality of what he did and cut off contact before they could have their first real date.
(The handler in question has been cleared during the investigation, but I still have my suspicions)
I know this seems like the flimsiest reason, but Haven’s friends all say that the man was very upset by Haven’s discomfort with his job, tried to keep contacting them for days. I think the job interview is a red herring and it’s this handler guy who is behind it somehow - maybe him, or his friends.
Also, there’s a WRU Training Facility in Cincinnati, Ohio, only a few hours away... and law enforcement never even tried to get a warrant to search there. Easy way to get rid of someone if you did something to them, right?
(I know, I know, WRU has standards and does checks and all that, but seriously. Think about it.)
A year later, improbably, a farmer working to mow the ditch next to his fields found Haven’s cell phone in a ziploc inside a second plastic bag. The phone had been wiped to factory settings and no new useful information was found.
So, where is Haven Gray?
Were they murdered? Abducted? Will we find their body in a field one day? Were they just dumped in the river next to their abandoned car? Are they part of the WRU system now? No one seems to know, and reported sightings of them in Los Angeles, New York City, and even one mention from Sydney, Australia, seem hard to believe.
Haven’s mother Maria says they have no plans to declare Haven legally dead, and they intend to keep looking “as long as it takes”.
What Are Your Thoughts?
-
WRU NEW ACQUISITION INTAKE FORM FACILITY 005
SUBJECT: 549065
DATE OF ACQUISITION: 06.06.20XX
TIME OF ACQUISITION: 1:45 PM
LOCATION ASSIGNED: FACILITY 005, CINCINNATI, OHIO
PREVIOUS ALIAS: Haven Finley Gray
AGE: 21
DATE OF BIRTH: 07.19.20XX
HAIR: Red
EYES: Gray
HEIGHT: 6′0″
WEIGHT: 153 lbs
SEXUALITY: Pansexual
DESIGNATION: Romantic
KNOWN SKILLS: Subject in school for business-related major, excellent with typing, record-keeping, work with Excel spreadsheets, etc. Subject reports regular workouts primarily consisting of long-distance cardio. Subject refused to provide details on sex life but is known to have been active in the dating scene of local area. Subject is known to be gregarious and social.
HOBBIES: Subject mentioned reading as a hobby, with primary interest in fantasy and science fiction. Three books located in subject’s car at time of acquisition.
KNOWN CONCERNS: Subject is showing some irregularities in heartrate, likely due to fear. No other known concerns.
KNOWN IMMEDIATE FAMILY: Matthew and Maria Gray, both living, location Trenton, Indiana. Grandparents are deceased.
SIBLINGS: Two younger siblings: Mark, brother, two years younger, and Penny, sister, four years younger.
METHOD OF ACQUISITION: Involuntary.
ACQUISITION DETAILS: Access to subject provided by local business. Subject was apprehended without incident by Handler Benjamin Ralford. Subject was given an injection of sedative and transferred to WRU company vehicle at 3:15 pm. The rest of the acquisition proceeded without incident.
ASSIGNED HANDLERS:
CONTRACT SIGNED: 06.09.20XX 5:55 PM
PRIMARY: Benjamin Ralford, per request, acting as primary. Handler and Processor, Romantic Division.
SECONDARY: Melissa Striker, Senior Handler and Processor, Romantic Division
SIGNATURE PROVIDED VOLUNTARILY, SUBJECT NOT SEDATED FOR SIGNING. SUBJECT SHOWED NO VISIBLE SIGNS OF INJURY AT TIME OF SIGNING. SUBJECT REPORTED FEELINGS OF FEAR AND CONFUSION COMMON TO NEW RECRUITS.
CONTRACT SIGNATURE: Haven Gray, aka 549065
PRESENT AT TIME OF SIGNING: Handler Benjamin Ralford, Badge #3345, WRU Attorney Ryan Alderson.
ESTIMATED COST FOR TRAINING: $125,000 USD
COMPENSATION TO BE PAID BY PROSPECTIVE: $500,000 USD
CURRENT LOCATION: Romantic Division Room #12, post-signing contract
TRAINING PLAN: ALL Positions 1-35, Flexibility, Sensitivity, Endurance, Dance, Socialization
COMMENTS:
I’m going to take every fucking thing out of that head and put back in only what I want to be there. I think they’ll fall in line once the Drip is really working on them. My professional recommendation is total illiteracy should be emphasized before moving on to other training. They’ll do better with focus and commitment on the skills we want to impart that way. I am also recommending absolutely no scarring unless there is no other option. - Benjamin Ralford, Primary Handler
Scribbled at the bottom of the paper and not put in to WRU’s digitized records system is a note in Ralford’s handwriting:
