Whumptober Day 19: Left behind, "Why wasn't I enough?"
Part of my Friends To An End story (masterlist)
tw: malnourished, held in a cell, bad caretaker, interrogation, long post
... Whumpee heard their footsteps coming down the basement stairs and at first assumed it was Whumper, until she realized that he probably hadn't grown extra pairs of legs. The group entered the basement with sweeping flashlights, occasionally illuminating Whumpee's malnourished, frail frame. She squinted at the harsh light, especially when one of them took out a camera and began flashing pictures. The group was dressed in business casual, and moved with a professional air about them. Whumpee couldn't tell if their disgusted faces were from the awful scene in Whumper's basement, or the distasteful hours they were working. She stood up and grabbed the bars of her cell, prompting looks from the group as well as several flashlights pointed right at her. She squinted, then spoke. "Um, who are you guys? Why are you here so late? Are you here to free me?" One woman, who wore a blouse, slacks, and low heels, who carried herself with confidence, responded. The badge around her neck identified her as Caretaker; the picture on the badge showed a smiling, eager face unlike the scowl she had since entering the room. "We're here to investigate after someone reported hearing torturous screams from this location. The Mr. Whumper who frequents this place already has a criminal record, so we wanted to know if something was going down." "That-that was me," Whumpee admitted sheepishly, though she knew none of what happened to her was her fault. "Those were my screams. I-I thought no one could hear me, I didn't think anyone was coming..." Whumpee started to tear up, old emotions rising to the surface. "It's alright honey," Caretaker affirmed, and her coworkers realized she was taking charge of the conversation and moved to resume their work. "Like you said, it's late, and we can't do much tonight. Mr. Whumper should return in a few hours based on our observations, and we'll need to be out by then." "You'll let me go right?" Whumpee was frantic. "I'm not going to be here when that happens? What about the cops, surely you let them know what's going on here?" Caretaker shook her head. "Do you know where the key is?" "No, Whumper always takes it with him-" "Then I'm sorry, we don't have the tools to get you out right now." To this, Whumpee started crying, silently. "And we're our own small private investigation unit, we try not to get the cops involved if we have to. You may already know, the cops around here are always busy and I've had some personally bad interactions in the past." Whumpee couldn't believe it. She slid down to a sitting position, and gripped the cell bars tightly, as if her desperation carried enough willpower to set her free. "I can't believe this," she whispered through the tears. The man with the camera finished taking the shots they needed and called out to the rest of the group that he was done. They took a penultimate look around the room, one of them jotting down a few final notes in their notepad, and turned to leave. "Wait!" Whumpee called out. "When will you be back?" The group turned around, with their eyes on Caretaker, expecting her to answer. She did. "I don't know, honey. Could be a week or two, or more." Whumpee didn't have the energy to beg for them to come back sooner. She watched with despair as they exited the room, climbing up the stairs and farther away from her. She curled up into a ball and sobbed into her knees, wanting this mess to all be over. ... After a night of restless sleep, Whumpee was awoken by someone pounding down the stairs. She rubbed her eyelids and Whumper came into view, with a busy, calculating look instead of his usual grin; charming to others, but not to her. She knew it as the grin of a monster. He skipped the pleasantries and teasing of what was to come that day and started firing questions. "There, were visitors last night, yes?" "Yeah," Whumpee replied.
"Private investigators, right? What can you tell me about them?" Whumpee hesitated for a moment, not wanting to give away the details of the people who could save her. But they didn't, they left her here, and she was more scared of what Whumper would do if she didn't answer. Caretaker and the others didn't do much for her, what did she owe them? "Um, they came down here pretty late. There were like, four or five? of them, and they looked pretty professional. They were taking pictures and notes, and one of them, Caretaker, might have been the leader, she seemed to be the one taking charge." Whumper was nodding along, and wrote down Caretaker's name. "Did you see a company name? Did they talk to you?" "No, it was too far away for me to see their badges, other than Caretaker's name and photo. She was the only one to talk to me." "What, exactly, did she say?" Whumper hovered his pen above the paper, ready to write. "She said that they were hear to investigate you and this place after someone heard my screams." Whumper started jotting, and made a low mmmmm noise, making a mental note to soundproof the basement. Whumpee continued. "They didn't stay long, only a few minutes, and said they would be back in a week or more. They also said that they wouldn't get the cops involved. Apparently Caretaker has a bad history with them." At this, a brief smile crossed Whumper's face - with the cops out of the picture, his job became easier. "Anything else?" Whumpee was silent. Whumper noticed this, used to hearing a "no" or seeing her shake her head when she was done; silence meant secrets. "Tell me, Whumpee, I'm not going to play games right now." There was no mistaking the impatience in his voice. The confession came out slowly. "I...I asked them to free me." Whumpee paused to look at Whumper, hoping he wouldn't be angry. "Caretaker asked if I knew where the key was, and I said 'no, you always keep it on you,' and she said she didn't have the tools to do it then. Then, they-they left me here," Whumpee finished as she fought back tears. "Hm. I thought you enjoyed it here," Whumper stated sarcastically. "I don't," Whumpee said under her breath, then noticed him giving her an inquisitive look, and she spoke up. "It's just- why wasn't I enough? If they're the good guys, why didn't they help me?" Whumper shook his head. "I don't know why, Whumpee, but I'm glad they didn't. And besides, you're enough for me, and I'm sure both of us will be relieved when we never have to see them again." He reviewed his notes, jotting down a few ideas he had. "Forget the usual routine, today I'm going to have to take care of this. I'll come check on you later, I'll be busy." "W-what about breakfast?" "Later, Whumpee. Thank you for the information though, I'll give you a reward of some sort. See you later." With that, he left her alone, her lamenting yet another rejection. All she wanted was to be free, and far away from Whumper. And breakfast.
