Michael woke up with a groan, not remembering where he was. His head pounded and he couldn't remember much except for his name. He looked around a bit to find that he was in a dark basement. His arms chained above his head so that he was above the ground by a few, his wings nailed to the wall behind him. Black blood dripped from the nails in his wings that were also turning black. Corruption had filled his soul as well as his heart and tainted the wings he loved so very much. The door opened and he flinched and pulled on the nails in his wings, making him wince. "Good morning my Angel~" a man purred, walking over to him, holding a whip. He kissed Michael's cheek, smiling before he tore open Michael's shirt. He studied Michael for a while, admiring him before he cracked the whip upon his chest.
Michael cried out in pain and surprise as crimson blood dripped from the new gash in his chest. The male kept striking Michael with the whip, soon going to a knife and salt instead. He cut deeply into his flesh and pouring saly into it, making it burn. Then rubbing alcohol was poured over Michael's wounds, cleaning them but making him cry out in pain.
Michael's breath hitched and he began screaming in pain while his wings were torn roughly and painfully from his back. He screamed until his lungs gave out, even after the man had told him to be quiet. Tears flowed down his face, quiet raspy sobs escaped his burning throat. His tormentor, Ryan Sullivan, slapped him to quiet him. Michael immediately shut up, although tears still slipped down his face. Michael's wounds got patched up crudely before his restraints got removed, red marks were they were before. Ryan picked Michael up and carried him to his room, Michael falling asleep in his arms.
In the morning Michael woke up to arms around his waist and whispering. He turned and looked at Ryan, who was hugging him and looked as if he had been crying. He kept whispering 'I'm sorry' and 'I love you' over an over again, although he was still asleep. Michael smiled a bit and hugged him back, burying his face in the other's hair. He heard Ryan whisper something about keeping him from flying away as well. Michael ran his fingers through the other's hair until he fell asleep once more.
A couple of hours later Michael woke up once more, Ryan gone and food on the table next to his bed. He sat up and looked around at the simple room then down at himself, finding that he was in new clothes. He wasn't bothered by it much though, he was more glad that he wasn't in a torn and bloodstained shirt anymore. He took the sandwich from the plate and ate it, studying the rest of the room as he did so. There wasn't anything in the room except a closet with a couple of outfits in it, the table, and the bed. The simple room didn't bother Michael much though, it was peaceful and calming to him. After a while Michael finished eating and decided to dig around in the closet, finding a set of oil pastels with a note on it. The note said 'Enjoy my little Angel, love Ryan.' on it. Michael smiled a bit and took out a black one, standing in front of the wall on the far side. He began drawing a large beautiful black wing. He took a white chalk next and began drawing a large beautiful white wing to match with the black one. He smiled at the drawings once he had completed them, proud of himself. He looked back as the door creaked open, spilling light into the rather dark room. "What is that?" Ryan asked, no emotion in his voice and Michael looked down, ashamed. "I-I'm sorry, I thought it would make the room look less empty..." Michael whispered. Ryan grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the room, "I'm going to give you a new room and then we will set up some rules.."
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