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whumpsday · 7 months

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Power Play

Writing Masterlist

content: kidnapping, ritual sacrifice, begging, hand whump, impalement, mouth whump, knives/skin carving, demon whumper, creepy whumper, major character death, gore

this is my piece for @zineofgid !! this was such an awesome project to work on :)

you can still buy the guys in distress zine here! proceeds go to the charity RAINN. there are limited physical copies and unlimited digital copies, as well as some merch left. do keep in mind that while my piece is sfw, this is an 18+ zine and a lot of other contributors' pieces are very much NOT sfw!

this piece was done as part of a collaboration with @whump-queen, with ocs we made together! he made art that accompanies this piece, you can view it here! it depicts the end of the story so you might wanna wait til after you read it though if you care about spoilers (also linked at the end)

Jonah’s breaths came hard and fast as Reese dumped him out of the large duffle bag, onto the cold floor of his basement.

He immediately tried to struggle to his feet, but his wrists and ankles had been bound with way too many layers of duct tape, making it impossible. Reese easily kicked him to the floor, placing a boot firmly on his chest and keeping him there.

“Ah-ah-ah.” his captor tutted, ripping the tape off his mouth. “I’m sorry to say that you will never see outside this room again.”

“You’re crazy!” Jonah screamed, unable to keep the terror out of his voice. His heart hammered in his chest, right under Reese’s boot.

“You have been messing with my campaign.” Reese countered, as if kidnapping was equivalent to Jonah doing his damn job. “Arnett didn’t start climbing in the polls until she brought you on as manager.” He dug his boot in deeper, making it a little hard for Jonah to breathe, pressing his bound wrists painfully into the floor under his back.

Despite admittedly-minimal efforts to retain his composure, Jonah found himself trembling. “So, what? You’re going to- kill me?”

There was no way he could fight this man off. Reese was bigger and stronger than him; it was pathetic how little he’d been able to struggle when Reese had initially incapacitated him. Now he was bound with tape and at an even bigger disadvantage. The thought that he could really die here blared through his mind like a siren, urging him to do whatever he could to escape, as if there was anything he could do.

“Not exactly. I’m not going to kill you.” Reese finally stepped off Jonah’s chest, only to kick him over and press a knee into his back instead. “Don’t mistake this as petty vengeance. I needed someone, and you happened to be an enticing target.”

It was only then, staring across the floor instead of at the ceiling, that Jonah noticed his surroundings.

A large pentagram, easily five feet, laid painted red in the center of the room, a hammer and nails set next to it.

“What the fuck?” he whispered in cold horror.

“Thanks to you, it’s clear that a good, honest campaign by a good, honest man isn’t enough to make it in politics. Luckily, there are other ways to get ahead in life, if you do enough research,” Reese explained, like it made perfect sense.

“Is that blood?” Jonah asked, voice small, staring at the red of the pentagram painted meticulously into the floor.

“It is. My very own.”

Jonah’s line of questioning was instantly interrupted when felt the side of a blade against his forearm.

He writhed, his struggles renewed. “Get away from me with that thing!”

“Hold still, or I might nick you. You want that tape off, don’t you?” Reese leaned down. Jonah could feel his breath on the back of his neck as Reese’s knee pressed further into his lower back.

Jonah went still, barring the tremors he couldn’t control. As much as he hated to admit it, Reese was right: aimlessly moving around with a knife millimeters from his skin would only get him hurt. He didn’t resist as he felt steel slide harmlessly against him, the layers of tape cut away and peeled off.

Before he could even think about running, Reese grabbed both his newly-freed hands and dragged him over to the pentagram. Jonah started struggling again, but there was little he could do against the iron grip.

Reese pointed to one of the triangles making up the pentagram. “You will kneel or I will make you kneel.”

He didn’t know what else to do, and pissing off his captor seemed like a recipe for disaster, so he knelt as indicated.

Reese bound one hand to Jonah’s body with more tape, bringing the other to a point of the pentagram. He pressed Jonah’s palm against the star’s tip, stepping firmly against his wrist to hold it there.

“Now, stay nice and still.”

Reese picked up the hammer and one of the nails.

“What are you doing?!” Jonah tried to pull his hand away, but Reese just pressed his boot down harder.

“What I said. Just making sure you stay still.” Reese positioned the nail in the center of Jonah’s hand, the sharp tip pricking at his skin. Jonah’s breath grew rapid in anticipation of what was about to happen to him.

“Wait, don’t, don’t don’t no no no-!”

Pain exploded in his hand as the THWACK of the hammer hit the nail and pierced his skin, and Jonah finally screamed. He tried again to pull his hand away, to pull his whole body away, but it was useless. He was trapped.

“Stop! Stop stop stop, you’re crazy!” he cried, tears spilling over and running down his face. The nail settled on the floor’s surface, just barely poking through the tender skin of his palm from the inside, making its way through muscle and ligaments and tendons.

“You can think what you like. Doesn’t matter to me,” Reese commented nonchalantly.

The hammer came down again. Jonah’s second scream was less intense than the first, as if his voice itself were scared, breaking off into a sob. A few more taps left the nail buried snugly in the floor, the head resting against the back of his hand as a bit of blood escaped from under it.

Jonah panted hard, adrenaline coursing through him. His hand wouldn’t move from where it sat fastened to the pentagram even after Reese removed his boot from his wrist: even twitching his fingers sent a horrible jolt through it.

“Good job, you’re doing very well.” Reese praised, patting Jonah on the head. “And now, the other one.”

“NO!” Jonah cried. “Stop! You have to stop!”

“Shh, it’s okay.” The sheer calm Reese talked about it with sent shivers down his spine. “It’ll all be over soon.”

Reese freed his uninjured hand, and Jonah clutched it protectively to his chest, shaking. “Leave me alone,” he begged tearily.

His captor grabbed his hand and brought it to the opposite point of the pentagram, stretching him out painfully and forcing his head and chest to the ground. Much to his dismay, Reese stepped down on his other wrist and readied the hammer and nails again.

Jonah strained his neck to look up at Reese, desperate. “What do you want? I’ll quit, okay? I’ll stop running Arnett’s campaign, you’ll never see me again. Just stop.”

“Oh, Jonah. Like I said, I needed someone. It just happened to be you.” Reese started on the other hand. No matter how much he screamed, it wouldn’t stop. Unlike the first nail, which seemed to slip in between his bones, this one landed right on top of the small, delicate bones inside his hand and smashed through them uncaring, the pain blinding.

Jonah was a mess by this point, sobbing into the floor. “I don’t wanna die like this,” he sniffled.

Reese cupped his face. “Look at it this way. You’re dying for something bigger than yourself. More powerful. Now, I think that’s about enough complaining out of you.”

The grip on his face grew tighter and tighter, fingers pressing tightly into the sides of his jaw, until Jonah was forced to open his mouth. Reese grabbed his tongue and pulled it, touching it to the center of the pentagram. Even among the throbbing pain in his hands and the horrifying situation, Jonah’s face crinkled in disgust.

Reese grabbed another nail.

Jonah’s disgust was immediately forgotten, replaced by overwhelming terror. He tried fruitlessly to shake his head away, making what little terrified noises of protest he could manage, as Reese settled the tip of the nail against his tongue.

A whine of fear escaped him, and he looked up at his captor pleadingly. Please don’t do this.

“Just try to relax,” Reese advised, as if it was at all possible.

The hammer slammed against the head of the nail, sending it straight through Jonah’s tongue and into the floor. Jonah wailed with intolerable pain, hot tears slipping down his cheeks, no longer able to form pleas. All he could taste was his own fresh blood, running over Reese’s painted on the floor.

Reese gave it a few more firm taps until the head of the nail almost crushed Jonah’s tongue under it, undeterred by Jonah’s cries.

“There we go.” Reese disappeared from Jonah’s tear-blurry line of sight. A moment later, he felt the side of the knife against the back of his neck. He squealed in distress, unable to even thrash against his bonds anymore.

But the knife didn’t plunge into him. Instead, it glided downward to the sound of tearing fabric until Jonah’s shirt fell limply in front of him. Reese ran a hand over his exposed back, Jonah’s tense muscles shuddering under the touch.

“This is the final step.” Jonah jolted as best he could in his immobilized state as he felt the tip of the knife between his shoulderblades- not digging in yet, but threatening to.

“Nghh!” Jonah couldn’t say much else with his tongue nailed down. He couldn’t even shake his head. Nothing he could do to indicate NO would be enough here, anyway. Reese didn’t care for his opinion.

He screamed as the knife buried itself in flesh, not deep enough to touch bone, but far from shallow. It glided along his back in a sweeping stroke, before Reese lifted it and picked a new spot to carve into him, no matter how much he cried and tried to writhe away from the sharp, insistent pain.

Slice after bold, swirling slice, Reese painted a pattern in the splitting of his skin, spending the most time on an intricate design between his shoulder blades. Jonah was pretty sure it was supposed to be an eye, but he was too hazy with agony and blood loss to tell.

Finally, Reese pulled the knife away from his mangled back. “There, all done. Soon you won’t even feel it.”

Jonah could only sob in response, trembling from pain and fear. Everything hurt. His entire body felt like it had been through a paper shredder. He could feel the blood running off the sides of his back and pooling beneath his folded-up legs, soaking his knees.

He watched as Reese lit candles in a circle around him, painting the room in a warm glow, and began chanting in a language Jonah couldn’t understand- Latin, maybe? What a pointless thing to die for. What would happen to him when none of this worked and no demon showed up? Would Reese concede and let him go? Probably not. Jonah imagined the knife plunging into his chest, the last thing he ever saw the face of his murderer. At least the pain would stop.

Slowly, as Reese chanted, The sigil carved into Jonah’s back began to burn.

Just a little at first, but getting hotter and hotter until Jonah was writhing in pain, trying to free his hands despite the nails holding them in place and hurting worse and worse the more he tugged on them. What was happening to him? It felt like someone had run boiling oil through the gashes in his skin. It was unbearable. He needed it to stop. Jonah squeezed his eyes closed, releasing a sound akin to a dying animal at the excruciating pain.

When he opened his eyes… a figure stood in front of him, half-materialized, like it was creating itself out of thin air. The warm orange glow of the candles began to shift to a cold, too-bright violet.

He strained his eyes up to see, the angle much less than ideal with his tongue bolted to the floor. He wasn’t sure if that was the reason they looked so massive, or if they really were abnormally tall, but a glance at Reese for comparison proved it to be the latter.

Everything about them looked unnatural, all bright colors that might mark a plant or animal as toxic, screaming at his nailed-down body to run. Glowing fuschia markings slithered all over their skin, the pattern looking suspiciously like the one Jonah could feel carved into his back. A giant scorpion-like tail snaked out from behind them.

Jonah stared up at the- the demon, apparently. As their form became more solid, Jonah’s back burned less and less, the only thing he could possibly be thankful for in this moment.

The demon eyed him back threefold, an impossibly-wide grin full of sharp teeth splitting their six-eyed face. Jonah couldn’t help but whimper under their gaze.

“Izuloth!” Reese shouted, suddenly seeming so much less intimidating compared to the monstrosity before him.

Izuloth broke eye contact to direct their attention to him, their smile faltering and their eyebrow twitching with annoyance. Several of their eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I’ve summoned you! I’ve captured a sacrifice, carved your sigil, drawn this pentagram in my own blood. You will now grant me power, as promised,” Reese declared confidently.

The smile returned. “Awfully presumptuous, human. I don’t remember promising anything.”

“What- what are you talking about?” Reese sputtered. “That’s what it said in the book! You are now under my control!”

Izuloth smirked. “Oh, is that what it said. That was nice of them to put in there. Makes fools like you much more likely to summon me. Hm, I don’t think I care for your attitude, though.”

They snapped their fingers.

Jonah watched in horror as Reese’s body began to unravel in front of him. Skin peeled from muscle, exposing raw, bloody flesh and piling on the floor below in a wet heap that splashed Jonah’s face with blood- he could taste it on his outstretched tongue.

Reese tried to scream, but all that came out was a gurgle as his tongue joined the rest of his exposed muscles in shredding to bits, as if taken to on all sides, inside and out, with an invisible cheese grater. It was over within a minute: the remnants of his body collapsed to the floor, twitching with life for only a moment before going still.

Jonah was alone with Izuloth.

He whined in terror, too frozen to even try tugging at his restraints. If the demon could do that, it wouldn’t be any use anyway.

Izuloth, to his dismay, turned their attention back to him. “Now, where were we?”

They reached a hand down to pet his hair. Jonah squeezed his eyes shut, his entire body tensed up in anticipation.

Suddenly, Izuloth grabbed his hair and pulled. Jonah’s eyes flew right back open as his tongue ripped right out of the nail, bisecting it down the middle with an agonizing tear. His scream of pain cut short when Izuloth grabbed him by the frayed end of his tongue, their many-eyed face inches away.

“Pretty thing, I think I’ll keep you.”

ART BY AKIA WHUMP-QUEEN!!!

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

one-shots taglist:

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthisiast

@whuarri

@reborrowing

#whump #my writing #demon whumper #ritual sacrifice #begging #hand whump #mouth whump #impalement #creepy whumper #major character death #gore #guys in distress

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wanderpastme · 1 year

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Welcome Home <3

Chapter 2

Creepy Pompadour my beloved

Basically a Wally Darling x Reader fic

I am a smut writer, but the creator has stated they are uncomfortable with that kind of content, so this will be strictly non-smut fic… I didn’t say it was going to be SFW though.

Of course, this is a horror arg after all :)

TW: BLOOD, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, STALKING, STARING (👁), MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, THREATS, GORE, BODY HORROR

GN READER (That is subject to change, but prolly not)

BTW this chapter is a lot of setup, lots of filler

Chapter 1: Apple Of M̵̻̟̥̯̮̰̩̱͕̩̙̟̦̓̉͜ͅͅY̷̺̜̓́͠ Eye

Darkness surrounded you, simultaneously pulling you in and out like the waves of the tide, pulling at your skin with its awful gaze.

Its gaze burned into you like a fire that would never be extinguished.

You wanted to go home, to hide and never be seen again, but something inside you told you that would never be the case again.

I̴̟̲̋ ̸̭̪̕s̸̱̯̋e̸̗̾̐e̸̻̜̓ ̶̟̇̕ỳ̷̠̻o̴̳̣̊u̸̥̔.̵͝ͅ ̵̪́I̵͕͐ ̸̧̗̓s̸̺͐͆e̸͛̃͜e̷̤̕ ̸̨͚̇́y̴̦̺͒͝ő̸̧̺̓ǘ̵̺.̴̥͘ ̷̫̈́͗͜I̶͕̱͌͝ ̵̜̥͒̐s̶̠̮̀͘e̵̪͔͐̍e̵͔̐̾ ̵̢́y̵͈̿o̶̠̾u̴̲͝.̷̧̿́ ̴̩̪̌̕I̸͉̽ ̶̡̥́̃s̵̹͑̈́ë̴̦͍́͝ę̸̞͗ ̶̹͇͑̅y̵̻̓ͅö̷̲͈u̸͈͑.̶̡͖̉ ̸̮̽I̴̟̍̂ ̶̢̻͊̈́s̵͙̤̊e̵͕̊ȅ̴͖̞ ̷͈̪͌͑ỳ̸̥̈́ó̴͇u̶͎͝.̸̢͔̽ ̷͐͠ͅI̴̪̅ ̸̪́s̵̛̤̀ȇ̸̲è̴̮ ̷̘̋͑y̴̻̎o̶̢̎u̶̢̩̿͂.̵̖͚͋ ̶͈̟̇̈́Í̵̩ ̵̟͕̃͠s̶͔̯͊͠e̵̖͇͝e̷̫͎͌ ̶̩͈͝y̶̦̋o̶̰͉͘͝u̸̬̿͝.̸̛̫̈ ̶̤͐̕I̶͇͑ ̴̤͐̈s̴͎̈e̸̮̬͂e̷̺͒ ̵̧͆y̷͖̠̽o̶̟̻̓u̵̯̔̽.̸̱̔ ̵͙̗͑̚I̶͖̿̐ ̶͖̻̈s̶̪̓e̵̬͝e̵̟͎̓̽ ̷̨̀y̷͉͊͘ö̸̪͖́ų̴̚.̶̠̣̅̋ ̷̙̻̄̈́I̸̯͕̓ ̶̨̛͝s̴͇͇͛ė̴̟͆è̶̞̑ ̵̥̜̍y̸̟̒o̷̙͗̊û̶̪.̶͉͋ ̸̥̹̆Į̸̘̊͝ ̴̺͊͘ş̷̃e̷̗̘̍̕é̶̮ ̶̰̤͊̀y̷̯̏o̸͚̤̾ũ̷̟̒.̶͉̑̔ͅ ̸̙̂I̵̮̓ ̵̳̗̍̿s̷̹͍̔͗ḙ̵̺͝ê̵̠̿ ̶̛̅ͅy̴̢͊͜o̴̖̎u̸̹͝.̸͚͍̒͋ ̷̼̉̕I̸̹͑ ̶͕̮̍̆s̸̖̟̀̅ë̵͍̥e̵̗̎̀ ̷̘͈̓y̴͙͛͘ȯ̸̢̝ǔ̷͉̻.̶͔̓͝ ̶̞͚̇I̷͉̳͝ ̶̺̝͝s̸̳͈̒e̶̤̿̑ë̵̫͙̍ ̸͖͗̇y̴̰͌ǭ̸̒ȗ̵͔̥̒.̶̺̌̐ ̵̖̘͌́I̸̞͆ ̸̗̤̔̎ṡ̷̛͙e̷͇̎e̵͉̥̓̋ ̸̗̈́y̸̞͈̍ơ̴͓̻ṳ̸̎.̴͈̙͊͑ ̷̤̽͗I̴̧̊͋ ̶͇̻̀ș̶̞̍e̵͙͖͌̍ȩ̵̣̂͝ ̵͚̱͆̄y̶̬͍̍̊o̷̭̔͘ǔ̷̺̺.̶̯͗ ̶̜͎̈́Ḯ̸̮ ̵̳̅s̷͈̀͜ë̸̡̦́͑ẹ̵̺͌ ̶̗̊͝ẙ̵̲ǒ̷̳̹̓ű̸̹̬.̷̖̚ ̷̠͍̈́͠Ḭ̴̻͋̉ ̵̼̳̀͗s̵͙͝ė̶̜é̶̡ ̴̖̝̓̌y̸̹͐̾o̵̜̫̍̌u̸̜͂̾.̸͎̎͜ ̷͍̑I̸̬̍̓ ̴͖͌ṣ̸͉͋è̵͔̏e̴̦͚͐ ̷̩̹̌̌y̶̘͂̀o̶͇̅u̵̧͌.̴͖̖̔͝ ̵̘͎̽̽I̵̽ͅ ̸͇̼́͘s̵̪͕͑ē̵̩̈e̵͙͙͠ ̶̮́ͅỹ̵̮o̷̹̞̎̀u̴̝͔͂̄.̸̨͘ ̶̮͆́I̴̗̻͗̓ ̴͙̑ś̵̼ḝ̶̓ë̸̼͝ ̵̼̝͂͒y̷̗̌o̶̯̾͝u̶͇̣̐̚.̶̲͋͝ ̶̛̲ͅĮ̴̻̊ ̶͎͝͝s̸͔͂e̶̫̅e̴͈̺̒-̶̱̍ (I see you x21.5)

Your eyes shot open staring straight ahead at… nothing.

There was only the darkness of your living room, your plain ceiling the only thing staring back at you.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed your tangled covers off your body, cool air hitting your sweat-covered body.

It was only a nightmare.

The sound of faint static filled your ears as you regained your senses.

It looked like you had fallen asleep watching TV again, it had been a long week.

With how many hours you were working, and how hard your boss seemed to be pushing you, it was only a matter of time before you gave in to the fatigue. You needed a break.

Suddenly the once-dark room flushed with color, the static on the screen honing into a signal finally.

Glancing lazily at the screen your face filled with confusion.

“A kids show? This late?”

“Why hello Neighbor!”

A cheery puppet character filled the screen, sitting lazily in a chair. This must be the main character of the show.

Curiosity got the better of you as you sat staring at the world being built right before your eyes, colors, and shapes grabbing your attention like you were a small child.

“How cute” you mused, a soft smile on your lips.

“Oh, how I love to see you smile.”

Your face immediately dropped from your face as you stared in shock. Could they see you? No, no, it was just a scripted program, you probably just missed a cue or something.

The yellow puppet stared right back at you unblinking, his half-lidded eyes giving him a look of being tired, but his irises refused to stop staring directly at you.

Kind of creepy for a kid’s show.

Ok- that’s enough-

Looking around for the remote, you could feel the puppets gaze burning holes into your skull almost daring you to try.

“Í̶̞ ̸̛̭͇̒ẘ̵̙͙ǒ̵̗̹ù̵̖̓l̷̥̻̓̄d̸̺̣̂͘n̷͓̑'̴̪̿̃t̴̳͈̐ ̵̜̣̈́͘d̶͔̙̓̚ờ̵̧̞ ̶̮̌t̸̟̟͛̀h̶͔͝͝á̵̰͑t̵͈̦̏ ̴̨̘̾͐ņ��̑͘é̴͍̼̓i̵͎̱̍̈́g̵͖̣̐h̸̰̹̐̍b̴̈́̈́ͅó̴̰͕r̴̲̰̓” (I wouldn’t do that, neighbor)

Your blood ran cold in your veins, pinning you down to the spot, your hand hovering midair, reaching for the remote.

“Oh good~”

Your eyes darted back up to the screen, further hightening your fear.

The puppet had come impossibly close to the screen, yellow, felt, hands pressing desperately against the glass, his face nothing more than a shadow with eyes.

Familiar static filled the room with an almost deafening roar, making your head pound against your skull.

Wincing you stood on shaky legs, gripping the sides of your head in pain.

“Oh don’t be like that- soon you will be H̵̨̠̀O̴͔̜͗M̸̖̀͝E̶̢̖̕” (HOME)

Tears pricked the edges of your eyes, blurring your vision as you collapsed to your knees, holding your head in agony.

“P-please stop-” you whimpered.

“Oh don’t be like that~ you’ll be here~ with me~ f̵̧̎o̶͙̐͊r̵̫̮͑͗e̷̛͛ͅv̷̥̽̋ͅè̴͚̓r̷̻͈̈́͘~” (forever)

Darkness soon filled the edges of your vision, and the rest of the world faded into a soft hue of colors. Soft carpet pressed harshly into the side of your cheek, but not for long.

You felt your body being lifted up into the air, two strong arms holding you gently to a plush chest.

“Shhh, neighbor… just rest”

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