“You. Are. Mine. Understand me?!..” Dark had come into the room, his pristine dress shoe twisting down onto Mark's stomach. It had been days since he had been left in this dark room, no sunlight to be seen let alone any food. The demon had finally, FINALLY, captured Mark, and he planned to make him suffer for all he had done. (🍞🔪🔗🖐)
“Fuck. You.” Mark’s hoarse voice echoed back at his counterpart, a result of his almost malnourished body. At least Dark had provided water. Mark grimaced, it was probably to prolong his suffering. Snaked around his wrists the chains clung on, eating away at the little flesh he had. With his current state maybe he could’ve slipped through the metallic guards. Wheezing at the brute force digging into his stomach, Mark spluttered. A combination of spit and blood escaped his split lips. A small crimson stream continued flowing over the exposed flesh, he winced at the agony. He could no longer scream, his throat would see to that, he could only tear up allowing another waterfall to form. The only sign of his pain. He wanted to die. Instantly. But he knew Dark had other plans.