#helect is gonna suffer so badly

[whump-in-the-closet]

14. Collars in the Shape of Hands

previous.

cw: burning, failed escape, inhuman whumpers

Your vision blurs, choked with the sight of Valian’s blood and flashing steel. You can’t watch this. You– 

You panic. And the world panics with you, slipping away and blurring into vague, indistinct shapes. You run, heart ripping apart your throat– you don’t think an internal organ is supposed to be there, but you brush it aside– you have to run. 

You have to get out of here. 

The ring of trees that’s a fuzzy line of green means freedom. Safety. You draw close, panic turning to exhilaration. You’re going to make it. You’re going to be safe. The thought settles comfortably inside you, all dull edges and warm fall colours. 

You never make it. 

You never had a chance. 

Keres materialises directly in front of you, coming up from the grass with the finality of a mountain. 

Fall colours fade to winter and despair. 

Grinding to a stop, you try to backpedal– you still have a chance to reach the woods. To escape this nightmare of a clearing– 

Keres tilts her head and gives you a paper-thin smile. A smile that says, “Hey, congratulations, you messed this up splendidly. Good for you for being so bold and so utterly stupid.” Really, who needs words when they can smile like that? 

Someone grabs your shoulders from behind, grip tightening with an impossible strength. No human should be able to make your bones feel like they’re about to turn into powder. 

Solis drags you back to the middle of the clearing. In a final fit of resistance, you dig your heels into the ground, leaving scratch marks in the grass. 

Solis drops you. Pieces of green grass twist between your fingers and wrap around your wrist. 

Voices echo like they're coming from the end of a very long tunnel. “You shall regret that.” 

“Helect, you should not have tried to run.” Mocking. “But, alas, that is your loss.” 

It’s Solis who hauls you back to your feet. There are flecks of Valian's blood on her face. She doesn’t let go of your collar, but twists it to the point of choking. 

Leaning in close, she whispers, “Have you ever been in so much pain, death seems like a mercy?” 

The lightning in her eyes seems like an entire flashing storm. The air contracts with suppressed energy. 

She slips into an old way of speaking. A hymn. A threat. “Prepare thyself.”

“For– for what?” 

Solis raises two of her four hands and the light catches on the dead skin. Then you realise it's not sunlight on her skin, but white flames. Her hands are on fire. 

And she smiles. “For this.” 

Terror spikes through you, filling every nerve in your body with a silent scream. You try to wrench away, fighting with the strength of a trapped animal. 

Keres grabs your wrists in a vice-like grip. With another hand, she grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back. 

You stare at the sky through the tree branches and wonder if it's the last time you’ll see the sun. 

Flashing red wings. 

Cicadas buzzing.

The green of the forest. 

Don’t think about the burning--

The sound of sizzling hits you first, then the pain. 

Solis’s hands are around your throat, forming a collar of fire. 

The sunlight beats down on you as you scream. Back arched, clawing for even the slightest relief. 

The first scream is choked, strangled and half-swallowed. It rips at your throat, crawling out of your mouth and falling dead beside you. 

Just like your dignity. 

You never had a high pain tolerance. 

“Oh, be quiet,” snaps Solis, withdrawing her hands. But the burns remain. A mark that won’t heal and is unable to be hidden. 

Burns in the shape of a collar. 

Keres lets go of your wrists and you sink to the ground. Your vision blurs– worse than before. 

Unconsciousness is a mercy you would beg for. 

You slip further into the grass. 

Bare feet appear in the corner of your vision and Valian crouches next to you. Their bottom lip is shredded, blood dried to their face. They're really not much better off than you are.

There’s concern in your eyes, but it’s darkened by fear. “You should stand up for this next part,” they whisper. “Do you need help standing?” 

Nausea rises up with an unbidden horror. The agents aren’t finished?

taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast, @d-cs, @annablogsposts, @sorrowful-hyacinth, @whumpsday, @whumpinthepot, @whumpycries (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

#helect cyoa #interactive whump #fantasy whump #whump writing #whump cyoa #cw burning #cw torture #cw inhuman whumpers #helect is gonna suffer so badly #ask and ye shall receive #this was actually kinda fun to write #methinks helect should suffer more eh? #some of you were shouting for helects blood and i am five hundred percent with you on that