17 for Skunk?
#17 Empty
Cold hard cement. The icky chill of cooling blood.
That's what Skunk could feel as he lay on his side, unable to move.
Skunk was in some sort of warehouse it seemed, his hands and feet bound and his mouth gagged. Glowing black runes hovered above his skin, adorned with bruises and freshly opened gashes and cuts. Blood dripped down his forehead to his cheek, dripping onto the ground and making a small puddle below him that mixed with the tear stains on the cement.
He couldn't move. He couldn't heal. And he couldn't escape. He was at the mercy of Nathan Arch...his nemesis and once friend.
Skunk didn't meet Nathan's fire filled eyes. Instead, he just stared blankly forward. No visible fear, anger, or sadness. He looked broken, defeated; an empty shell.
Nathan smirked and picked Skunk off of the ground into a kneeling position. "Have you had enough? Why do you resist me so? Just give me what I want, and you can live by my side as you once did so many years ago~"
Skunk slowly shook his head, weakly attempting to pull away and falling back to the cold floor. As weak and bloody as he was, he would not give in. He had to remain strong no matter how much his body took.
Nathan stood up and unsheathed a blade from his cane. "Very well, I tried the nice way. And now we're going to do things the hard way~"
Before Nathan could plunge the blade towards Skunk's neck, footsteps echoed on the cement ground. A familiar young voice shouted out, the faintest crackle of electricity filling the air.
"Skunk!"