I had a 500 word drabble and then it sprouted a plot to double the length. Come for physical whump and stay for emotional I suppose!
Sunburn
“Ouch… maybe I should’ve brought you in sooner.” A hand reached for their neck and they flinched away, hissing from the pain.
“That’s what I told you,” they gritted out.
“Yeah, but you’re always saying shit like that. How was I supposed to know you’d blister?”
They touched their victim again and got smacked away this time, fiery eyes trying to judge how they’d react.
“You said yourself that you started stalking me at the height of summer. Did you ever see me tan? Matter of fact- have you even seen the shade of my hair?!” Even in captivity they couldn’t escape these stupid questions. A startled grunt came out as that same scarlet hair was twisted and pulled up.
“Ah, fascinating! You know what other myths I’ve heard about gingers?” They hissed in their ear, answered by silence and pained breathing. “I’ve heard they have higher pain tolerances. Should we test that too?”
“Compared to whom? Are you volunteering?” They were thrown to the floor for that and quickly pounced on, pinning them by bare, swollen shoulders. “Don’t touch those, asshole!”
“Or what?” Despite the knowledge that they were being egged on, they squirmed and struggled beneath unyielding force. “Yeah, that’s what I tho- oh!” One hand moved and they saw an opening, but the other clamped hastily over their neck. Then there were long, sharp nails digging into their sunburn and a horrific sensation they recognized all too well.
“Hey-! Don’t peel, that’s gonna make it worse!”
“It’ll come off anyway. Plus, it’s fun!” They flicked away a piece of dead skin and pulled at another part, feeling the other cringe at the feeling. “And I’m not cleaning up after you if you get little flakes all over the place.”
“Just give me a shirt! Problem solved!”
“Aw shit, most of these are just tiny pieces…” they murmured, completely ignoring their sensible suggestion. After trying and failing to grip onto them, they pressed their palm down instead and rubbed back and forth on the inflamed skin.
“Ahhhhh- hhhngh!” It felt as if they were touching an open wound, and in some sense they were. Underneath the layer of dead skin was a fragile, damaged one that screamed at the friction, no doubt even redder than before.
“See? That got it off.” They smiled and swiped their shoulder clean, but wouldn’t stop touching the injured area. “Now those blisters.”
A finger pressed down, then rocked up to the nail and swiped down the skin, eliciting a scream. Hands reached up blindly, but a well placed zip tie solved that problem rather handily.
“Fuck off! Fuck all the way off!!” Now it was all five nails, pulling through and- Christ, did they draw blood? The sting was unbearable and they shook, still trying to free themself by any means possible.
Somehow they were ridiculously dehydrated. And weak because of it.
Those godforsaken nails tore through to the other shoulder, finally coaxing out two pathetic tears as they busied themselves with the dead skin all over again.
“I’ll bite off your nails myself, you bastard!” they practically screeched. The harder they fought, the more they were convinced that the plastic would sooner split their skin than break.
“God, I knew you were weak, but you can’t even handle a little burn? Pathetic.”
“I am not!” Their voice cracked. “I know what you’re trying to do! You want me just like everyone else you’ve kept here, you want me to say I deserved all this shit, and then you’re gonna throw me out on the street to be another corpse, just another fucking victim with the same MO!”
“...oh.” The aggressor leaned back.
“Yeah, you fuckin’ feel bad yet?! One of your precious little projects finally knows who you are, what’s gonna happen to them?! Is that what it takes to knock some sense into that dense fucking skull?!”
“No, it’s just… mmh. I have a schedule to keep. And if I’m being honest, I really thought you’d break quicker than this. I wanted to enjoy my time with you.”
Rustling sounds, a cap, and liquid pouring out onto their back. Thick, but runny like water.
“I may have even gone easy because I do like you. You’re a lot of fun. But we have a long drive to your drop location if I’m to keep my name in the news and not triangulate my location. Well, not my name. The one they’ve given me. The one you know, don’t you?”
They spread it all across their back and down their arms. Cooking oil. That’s what it was.
“Despite your resilience you've definitely been a wimp, you know. You’re still biting angry quips out but complaining about a sunburn. There are worse ways to be burned, you know.”
That comment finally snapped their captive out of their daze, and wide eyes followed the matchbox out of their pocket.
“NO! NONONO!”
“Finally. I didn’t think you were such an idiot on top of everything!” A match slid out and teased the strike pad.
“DON’T!” Despite the thousands of words overwhelming their thoughts, it was nearly impossible to speak.
“In exchange for what, huh? What would you do to make me stop?”
“Anything, I’ll do anything,” they breathed, hope twinkling beneath fear. Consideration was a mercy, finally understood in this moment.
