#implied burning

[kiwichaeng]

If anyone utters a single racist word about Leah or sends her hate or complains about the casting I'm coming for your throats I will burn you alive

[scath001]

Whumptober 18: Muffled Scream

Series: Project A.D

Characters: Lyra Merritt (Lucina Sterling), Unnamed scientist.

Trigger Warnings: (Implied) child abuse, Mild gore, death mention, Strong language

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She hated this place. Its obnoxiously clean white walls stained with blood occasionally, the glass panels separating the subjects from the rest of the world. The empty room filled with with countless years of torture, being chained up, poked and stabbed with needles, examined by the staff in white robes. She hates it. The very existence of that place disgusted the sorceress to her core.

A few decades and it was never really completely erased from her mind.

Back in a recreated cell of her old one slightly unnerved the runaway subject. Her faded brand itching at her lower back as memories came flooding back in. Lyra swallowed past the lump in her throat, closing her eyes for a short moment, focussing solely on her breathing.

She's dead. That bitch. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her.

"HS770701105."

Fuck. Crispy Void.

Before her stood and old friend.

Mother- no, her Majesty. She seemed younger?

Great. Her favourite. Her very own daughter. Tipping her head back, Lyra came face to face to her half sibling, the late queen's very own daughter. Her cold pristine silver eyes meeting her sister's for the first time in a long time. They were just like her Majesty's.

The sorceress gritted her teeth, the muzzle preventing her from fully closing her mouth. She felt sick, the urge to drop everything, the business, the identity she made for herself. Fear. Raw and unsettled. Nesting close by, slowly creeping behind the sorceress like a growing thorn vine just as it did to the young, vulnerable child, torn away from her rightful place and raised as a living, breathing weapon. A toy for the government.

Regina's- the late queen's daughter was just as cruel. With little to no regard for her elder sibling, the new queen stepped forward, crossing boundaries.

"Beautiful." She remarked, her hand warm against Lyra's cold back. "I heard you suffered quite a bit- physically."

Lyra hissed, her breathing a little staggered now.

"Beatings, lacerations, burns- they really picked you apart huh."

The scientist grinned, listening to her sister's increasingly faint breathing, she must be hitting the mark. "Yet. Yet you have no scars," she continued, trailing her fingers down the subject's spine, genuinely intrigued.

Leaning close behind her half sibling's ear, the scientist whispered. "Guess will have to rebrand you, MINC.AD.HS770701105."

Lyra screamed, muffled by the tight metal contraption clamping down hard on her mouth, uncomfortably close to covering up her airways. Her eyes wide and glowing a bright silver gleam as a searing pain shot up from her lower back, deep and nauseating.

Her half sister chuckled, watching her struggle, watching her back arch away from her hand as if it would stop the series of numbers craving themselves out. Listening to her shrill cries was a long forgotten tune, found again. Regina would have been proud, pleased.

Her brand, glowing blue, turning red, hot and inflamed burned its way layers deep over the scarred tissue of the old faded brand. The number which she hated to the very core, a mark she would claw out even if it would tear her flesh and worsen the already badly damaged tissue.

Lyra screamed herself dry to what seemed like hours, now twitching on the floor with a hackling cough, spilling out silver blood. The one other thing she hated about herself, especially in this place. She shivered, her frame wrecked with chills despite the heat practically radiating of her back.

This was where it all began.

And it was starting again.