His eyes opened before a searing light stung his vision, forcing his eyelids to close tightly. He whimpered softly, covering his achy sight from the light.
When was the last time he saw light?
He moved his hand over, brushing back long bangs away from his forehead. His eyes opened reluctantly, millimeter by millimeter, seeing a warm light envelop his cell.
Though it looked less like a cell and more like an actual bedroom. He turned his head, looking over wooden floors towards a small alcove with a sink and mirror. His lips pursed together, and he sat up.
His spine stretched out, popping with each vertebra.
He flinched, remembering Ira’s hands clasping around his neck, forcing him down into the water, squeezing tightly to cut off any air, dousing his lungs with citrus and lavender flavored bathwater. His own hands reached up to his throat, massaging it with relief that she didn’t put the collar on him out of spite.
The heat on the side of his face reminded him of the startling discovery, and he turned his head to the side. Instead of concrete walls, he saw a tree trunk surrounded by a crown of red, pinks, and orange flowers. Behind the trunk was a finely manicured hedge, cutting off the rest of the horizon from the peach and gray sky.
His fingers trembled as he placed them against the glass.
It was a window.
He was looking out of a window.
“... What...?” He murmured, his lips dry. He pressed his forehead against the cool pane, his eyes watering before closing tightly.
He was getting emotional over a goddamn window.
He didn’t even want to process the fact that instead of coiled springs jabbing his back; he was on a malleable foam. Instead of waking up freezing, a knitted quilt kept his legs toasty.
This was too much.
“I won’t let you go. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I keep my promises, I will keep my promises...”
He clenched his teeth, releasing himself from the pull of the landscape and gripping his forehead, scarred fingers tugging at his hair. He turned his head sharply away from the thick glass and towards the heavy set door.
Automatically locked and bolted shut.
This was still a cell, and he was still a prisoner.
“Your promises? Bullshit. As if I could forget what you did to me.” He chuckled, crawling his legs over the edge of his new bed. His still aching and weak left ankle took in the impact of his toes touching a soft, warm fur, making him wince and his cheeks flush pink. He tilted his head, looking down at the beige fur, his right foot curling into its shaggy depths, “...you’re just trying to assuage your guilt.”
Guilt... Ira felt guilt.
She felt guilty, putting him through hell.
He gripped the foam mattress, his knuckles turning white as he shook, tears dripping down from his swollen eyes to his chin as he laughed.
His chest heaved in guffaws as he went through a mental recap of what she put him through:
She kidnapped him.
She crippled him; first his hands, then his ankle.
She made him into a monster, practically raping him with her touch and words, mutilating him to her delight.
She then left him alone in a cell with a vengeful freak of inhuman nature.
Then tried to drown him in a bath.
She did all of this...
How long would it be till she went right back to it?!
He breathed in sharply, his laughter silenced before he lifted his hand and dug his nails into his right cheek, scratching deeply, “You...you are the worst.” The stinging pain caused his eyes to roll slightly, and he shut his eyes, sinking into that blissful blood-coated pleasure, “The absolute worst.”
“I love you. You don’t believe me, but I love you.”
“You’re right. I don’t believe you.” He looked forward, towards the mirror in the alcove. The corners of his lips flinched as he stared at the reflection studying him.
He licked his bottom lip, running over the deep cracks and crevices, trying to moisten the valleys as noted the little tumbler next to the faucet and pushed himself up from the bed. His eft ankle protested as he limped towards the sink. He shivered as the plush rug transitioned to the dark wood, his toes curling a little to study the new texture. Once the momentary research was complete, he continued his slow journey, only stopping when his pelvis hit the marble edge of the vanity.
Before his hand can turn the faucet, his eyes caught site of the mirror, startling him frozen.