[m] Mistress and her prisoner

[Alaki]

[html]

WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised.

WC:402 - <333

Bloody steaks and hand prints covered the door trailing to where the grey male sat slouched against the opposing wall, legs pressed up against his stomach and arms wrapped around them. Locked within his little 'white' room, he lost all sense of time and long gave up trying to guess how many days he'd spent with only himself and his delusions to keep him company. At first he had responded poorly to Naniko's intervention, but for what he believed to be a day now, he'd sat there silently staring at the blood on the door and thinking to himself. Gently he rocked himself backwards and forwards, gaining moment before he rose to his feet, swaying slightly before he regained his balance, but once he was stable enough he began pacing; after exploring every inch and rock of his personal cave, he'd found that moving around and stretching his muscles was the best way to occupying his time. That and talking to himself; it was only when isolated like this that he realised what great company he was, having amused himself with his own words many a time. But he didn't feel like talking to himself, he didn't want to plan and think about what he would do once he stepped outside of the cave, he wanted to act, he wanted to have his revenge, to drench himself in their blood, for only then would his anger be sated.

Moving to the door, he hesitated, straining his ears in hope of hearing someone or something beyond the range of his quarters. Muffled sounds of life were all that he could pick up, nothing to distinctive and nothing new. Sighing, he glared at the door, lip pulling back to revel teeth and display his irritation at his situation. It was then his fists smashed into the door, the scabs across his palms cracking a bleeding out again from the movement. “Naniko, for fucks sake let me out of here already” he pleaded for what felt like the hundredth time. Every so often he would go to the door and ask to be realised and nearly each time he got ignored. Sighing again he stepped away from the door, turned and slumped down against it, back resting against the bloody wood. “I've got all the time in the world. Would it hurt you to answer me? Or heck, just let me out of here, seriously!”