Super quick and short drabble inspired by the end of bbh’s stream
Silence… blissful silence…
Ron - as it’s capture has decided to call it - keeps its hands firmly over its ears even though the cursed song has… seemingly stopped. It’s cell is once again filled with that uneasy quiet that it has become oh so acquainted with but the melody almost echoes in its mind
Bad where is my gun. Bad give me my gun. Bad where is my gun -
It breathes a small sigh with a head shake in a half hearted attempt to shake the song from its thoughts. Although these last few hours have been torture, Ron takes small pleasure in knowing it was not the intended target this time. However… the idea that its capturer is now in possession of a gun is… it shivers. Its previous employer had no problem punishing the workers with such a weapon. The scars from such wounds have been masked by the fresh lacerations left by the demon’s pet but its memories can not so easily be buried.
Woosh! The elevator sounds and Ron quickly backs to the corner as far from the bars as possible. If it’s lucky all the demon will do is try to force feed it ice cream again. If not…
“Roo-aaoo-ooon,” the familiar voice sings from behind the wall and Ron’s breath catches in its chest. Oh no. Its chest seizes as its lungs try to hyperventilate while simultaneously paralyzed and unable to take even one breath.
Manic laughter echoes in the chamber as the demon calls, “I’m sorry you had to suffer! I’m sorry you had to suffer, Ron!”
Ron shrinks down, hands starting to tremble as it stares at the wall. There is a shift in the stone as gears turn and the wall grinds upwards slowly.
“But don’t worry.” The demon’s eyes glow, the only feature visible in the darkness of the chamber, with an unhinged wildness that instills far more terror in it than his calculated rage.
The demon saunters forwards, almost drunk in the unsteadiness of his steps. “We will make them suffer too.”
He grasps the bars of the cell with a fierceness that leaves the bars rattling, wide grin joining his eyes in the void of his hood. “You can be sure of that.”
