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whump-or-whatever · 1 year

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Whump Vignette #5

Contents: stabbing, blood loss, hidden injury, falling unconscious, blackmail, self-sacrifice, waking up in hospital, implied past torture

Whumpee and Caretaker sat side by side on the courtroom bench. Whumper was in the defendants chair, a smug look on their face. Chains attached the shackles on their wrists to the ones on their ankles. Every so often Whumper would cast a glance back at Whumpee, causing them to shiver each time. Whumper grinned as they observed the effect they had on Whumpee. Caretaker cast worried glances at Whumpee every so often, but Whumpee avoided their eyes, trying not to let on how much Whumper was getting to them.

After days of trial, the judge had sent the jury for deliberation. The next day a verdict had been reached and the court had reconvened. A few final formalities were dealt with, some statements made, and the judge called for a 20 minute recess before the reading of the verdict. Whumpee sighed and stood up, saying to Caretaker “I’m gonna run to the washroom, I’ll be right back.”

Caretaker looked them over worriedly. They knew Whumpee was under a great deal of stress. Having to testify against Whumper had certainly taken a lot out of Whumpee and Caretaker could see the wave of discomfort that washed over them each time Whumper glanced their way. Nonetheless, Caretaker nodded, figuring Whumpee just needed a moment to prepare themself.

Whumpee wound their way through several corridors, looking for the washroom furthest away from the courtroom. They found one and walked in, leaning down to see that there were no feet in the stalls. Letting out a relieved breath, they went to a sink and splashed some cold water on their face. Whumpee leaned against the porcelain, staring at their reflection in the mirror. They could feel their muscles trembling, responding to the adrenaline which had been running through them since they entered the courtroom that morning. Closing their eyes, they took deep breaths in and out, trying to calm their racing heart.

Whumpee heard the door to the washroom open and they stood up straight, wiping the water off their face with a piece of paper towel. They glanced surreptitiously in the mirror to see who walked in, and their heart dropped into their stomach as they were met with Whumper’s grinning face. Whumpee spun around, pressing their back into the sink. Whumper’s cuffs had been removed and they stood casually with their hands in their pockets.

“How did you get in here?” Whumpee asked, mouth dry.

“I reached an understanding with my guards,” Whumper responded, taking a few slow steps forwards. “They do what I say, their families stay alive.”

Whumpee swallowed roughly, eyes darting around, looking for a way out. Whumper saw this and chuckled. “No use trying to run, the guards are right outside the door and you won’t get past them.”

Reluctantly, Whumpee met Whumper’s eyes with a look of desperation. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you, I want to give you something. A gift of sorts. In kind to the gift you gave me.” Whumper pulled their hand out of their pocket to reveal a small knife. Flicking the blade open, they turned it to admire how the metal caught the light.

Whumpee stood stock still, tracking every movement Whumper made with rapt attention.

Whumper looked back up at Whumpee, as if just remembering they were there. “You got me arrested and in return I give you this.”

Whumper approached Whumpee, getting within a few inches of them. Whumpee was unable to move. They wanted to, told themself they had to, but their feet stayed rooted to the spot. Whumper gently pulled Whumpee’s jacket open, resting the tip of their knife against Whumpee’s dress shirt just above their right hip. Whumpee held their breath, eyes straining down at the weapon.

“I am going to stab you. You will do what you have to do to hide it and return to the courtroom where we will wait to hear the verdict. This way, regardless of the outcome, I will have my revenge.” Whumper spoke evenly. “Then, once the trial is over, you will go home and die. If you tell anyone, seek medical treatment, or otherwise reveal what has happened here today, an unfortunate accident will befall Caretaker. Do you understand me?”

Whumpee nodded stiffly.

“Good.” And with that, Whumper pushed the knife past Whumpee’s skin, reaching the hilt before pulling it out in one smooth movement. Whumpee bit down on a moan at the all-too-familiar pain. Whumper had always been good with knives, knowing just where to cut to ensure Whumpee would not bleed out too quickly. In the past, Whumper would wait until Whumpee was right on the cusp of death before administering medical aide. This time, however, there would be no treatment. This was to be Whumper’s final victory.

Whumper reached behind Whumpee and pulled several paper towels from the dispenser, pressing them against the slow spreading bloodstain on Whumpee’s shirt. Whumpee grasped at their wound with a gasp, allowing Whumper to step back and admire their work. Whumpee sagged, leaning heavily on the sink with their free arm. Their eyes were unfocused and their lip twitched as they attempted to reign in the pain.

Whumper grinned before turning towards the door, calling back over their shoulder, “see you in court.” With that, they were gone and Whumpee was left alone in the washroom. They took a few deep breaths and pushed off the sink, taking a step towards one of the stalls. Unfortunately, their leg failed them and they fell to one knee. Stifling a whimper, they climbed gracelessly back to their feet and stumbled into the stall, locking it behind them. Whumpee hung their jacket on the hook on the back of the door, careful to avoid getting any blood on it. They then unbuttoned their dress shirt with trembling fingers, sliding it off and setting it on the back of the toilet. Their undershirt was next, as they yanked it over their head haphazardly and pressed it to the wound, sopping up the blood that trickled steadily from it. The injury really didn’t look that bad, just a small slit that leaked more blood each time they moved. Still, by the cold tingling sensation that pervaded their body, Whumpee could tell it was bad. It would kill them if they didn’t get help. But to get help would be to condemn Caretaker to death in their stead.

The full force of this fact struck Whumpee all at once and they stared at the stall wall in stunned silence. They were going to die. This was it. They would hear the verdict, go home, and cease to exist. Somebody would find their body, probably Caretaker, and nobody would ever know the truth of what happened. It was that simple.

Strangely, Whumpee didn’t feel panic or fear as they might have thought they would. Instead, a strange sense of calm washed over them. They had only one job now, to walk back into that court room and act as if they were fine, then to go home and die.

With a firm resolve, Whumpee moved into action. They pulled a bunch of toilet paper out of the dispenser and bunched it into a makeshift bandage. Pressing it to their side, they tore off a relatively clean chunk of fabric from the shirt and pressed it over top. They pulled their belt out of its loops and re-fastened it to hold the makeshift wound dressing in place. Opening the door to their stall and peeking out carefully to ensure no one had entered the washroom, Whumpee limped over to the sinks and hurriedly washed the blood from their hands. Returning to the stall, they pulled their shirt and jacket back on, buttoning up the latter to hide the bloodstain and wincing constantly as their wound sent jolts of pain through their torso. As they emerged from the stall, Whumpee took one last look at themself in the mirror. Having ensured there was no blood visible and smoothes out their hair, they walked confidently from the room.

As they traced their path back to the courtroom, Whumpee’s eyes flirted to the face of each person they passed. They kept expecting someone to say something, but nobody seemed to notice anything was wrong. Anything unusual about their appearance or comportment was seemingly dismissed as a result of stress from the upcoming verdict. By the time they reached the courtroom, Whumpee was just glad they would be able to sit down. They slid between groups of people, making their way to their seat. Caretaker glanced up upon their return and took note of how pale Whumpee’s face was. Their brow furrowed in concern.

As Whumpee sat down beside them, Caretaker turned to consider them more fully. “Are you okay?” They asked quietly.

Whumpee nodded, not meeting their eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Caretaker pursed their lips. “You don’t look fine.”

Whumpee heaved a sigh. “I will be fine, alright? I just want to get this over with.” They watched Caretaker’s face in their peripheral vision. Caretaker clearly wanted to say something, but instead bit their tongue and turned back towards the front of the room in silence. Relief flooded through Whumpee, and they turned their attention to the task of surreptitiously positioning their arms so they could put pressure on their wound without looking suspicious.

They waited for another 5 minutes before the judge emerged from their chamber and called for everyone to be seated. The rest of the process was a total haze for Whumpee. The jury representative stood up and read the verdict. Guilty. There were various murmurs and several sighs of relief from the crowd. Whumper wore a cold, angry look when they stood up to be led from the courtroom, but it turned to one of satisfaction as soon as they turned back to see Whumpee staring at them. People in the crowd began filing out of the courtroom while Whumpee sat stonily, stealing themself for the pain that awaited them when they stood up.

A warm hand touched their elbow, and they turned to see Caretaker eyeing them nervously. “You good?”

“Yep,” Whumpee replied casually. “Why don’t you go ahead? I’ll be out in a bit.”

Caretaker’s eyes narrowed. “I really don’t think you should be alone right now.”

Whumpee made a show of rolling their eyes. “Whatever.” Giving it all they had, they went to stand up. They actually made it to their feet with relative ease, but then their vision went to static and they stumbled to the side. Caretaker caught them under their arm and Whumpee was vaguely aware of their voice asking what was wrong. After waiting for their vision to clear, Whumpee pulled their arm from Caretaker’s grasp and responded. “I’m alright, just stood up too fast. I just need to have dinner and get some sleep. I’ll be fine.”

Caretaker looked at them incredulously. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, now go,” Whumpee responded, gesturing towards the door.

Caretaker reluctantly turned and headed down the aisle. They made it only 5 steps before they heard a loud thump behind them and turned back to find Whumpee kneeling down, arm slung over the back of the next row of benches for support.

Caretaker moved quickly, grabbing Whumpee around the chest to heave them off the ground. As they did so, however, Whumpee let out a cry of pain and clutched their hand to their abdomen. Eyes growing wide, Caretaker lowered Whumpee onto the bench. Without waiting, they unbuttoned Whumpee’s jacket to reveal a large bloodstain that covered nearly half their torso.

“Oh my god,” Caretaker muttered before yelling in the direction of the door. “We need medical help in here!” Several people ran into the room to see what was happening, then there was shouting as they went to get others.

Caretaker pulled Whumpee’s shirt out of their pants and peeled the bloodied rag and tissue away to reveal the knife wound. Caretaker’s heart was racing as they yanked their own jacket off and pressed it against the injury, eliciting a moan from Whumpee.

“Who did this?” Caretaker asked. When they heard no answer they looked up to see Whumpee staring at them with a tear streaked face.

“They’re going to kill you,” Whumpee choked out brokenly.

Realization fell over Caretaker’s face and they shook their head. One of the courthouse guards ran into the room with a large first aid kit and Caretaker stood aside to let him help Whumpee.

Whumpee soon lost all sense of the world around them and slipped into unconsciousness.

• • •

Whumpee awoke to a beeping sound which was oddly calming thanks to its consistency. The bed underneath them was firm, but their body felt like it was floating. Upon opening their eyes they were met with a dark room lit only by the soft glow of a reading lamp in the corner of the room. Under the lamp was a large armchair in which Caretaker sat, eyes scanning the pages of a book.

Whumpee wetted their lips with their tongue before speaking. “Watchya reading?”

Caretaker nearly jumped out of their skin at the unexpected sound. “Whumpee,” they spoke as a stunned exhale before crossing the room to stand at the bedside. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine actually,” Whumpee responded, pushing themself upon their elbows with a wince. “Okay, a little sore, but I’ll be fine.”

Caretaker nodded. “Well, since you’re fine I can tell you that you’re an absolute idiot.”

“If I’d have known what a warm welcome I’d receive them I would have woke up ages ago,” Whumpee said sarcastically.

“I’m not joking,” Caretaker said seriously. “You almost died, and for what?”

Whumpee fiddled with a loose thread on the blanket that covered them. “Whumper told me not to tell anyone.”

“And you listened to them why?”

“They threatened to kill you.”

“So you were just going to, what, die?” Caretaker said it half-jokingly, but Whumpee met their eyes with a look so sincere that their face grew serious. “Really?” Caretaker whispered.

Whumpee shrugged a shoulder sheepishly. “I wasn’t going to condemn you to death.”

Caretaker shifted awkwardly, looking away before changing the subject. “Well, you wouldn’t have anyway. The cops already knew Whumper was planning on killing me, they had a spy in their ranks. While we were in court the police raided their entire organization and arrested nearly every member, toppling their chain of command. Whumper no longer has any power.”

Whumpee thought this over for a moment. “What about the guards and their families?”

“The guards were arrested too once the police figured out what happened. Their families are fine, Whumper has no one to carry out their orders so there is no threat.”

Whumpee nodded. Then, they realized something. “Wait a minute, you knew Whumper was planning to kill you and you didn’t tell me?”

Caretaker sighed, rubbing a hand over their neck. “I didn’t want to put you under any more stress.”

“Jesus Christ,” Whumpee muttered.

“Yeah, well, I guess we can call it even.”

Whumpee gave them a sheepish smile. “I guess so.”

• • •

Fin

#whump #whump writing #whump scenario #whump vignette #hidden injury #stabbing whump #knife whump #whumpee #caretaker #whumper #whump scene #whump dialogue

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hufflepuffwritingstuff2 · 8 months

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It's Magic

This snippet is for @creweemmaeec11!

-------

Villain pressed the knife deeper into Hero's side, the blade glowing with harmful magic.

"Pathetic little thing," Villain laughed, yanking the blade out.

Hero gasped, lurching forward. They crashed down in the alleyway.

"Lesser beings like you should learn to stay out of my way," Villain said, "maybe your corpse will serve as an example."

Villain cast a spell, causing little cuts to open all over Hero's body. Hero whimpered in pain. They looked up with blurry vision as Villain strode away. Was this really how it was going to end? Killed by a magic user? Hero didn't have the energy to worry about it; they started to drift off, their head light and their limbs heavy.

----

Hero stirred to the feeling of a gentle rocking sensation.

"Mm..." they mumbled.

"Shhh," a voice soothed.

The rocking sensation stopped suddenly as Hero was laid down on a soft surface. They forced their eyes to open. They tried to sit up, but a hand gently pushed them back down.

"Don't-" the voice said softly, "don't get up. You're hurt."

Hero stared up at their rescuer. Their vision cleared, and their face went pale. Hero scuttled back on the couch.

"S-Supervillain," Hero breathed.

Hero's breaths quickened, coming out in short little gasps. Their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Supervillain held their hands up in a placating gesture.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," they said, "I promise."

Supervillain took a step closer, and Hero flinched hard, screwing their eyes shut. Instead of a harsh strike or a dark spell, Hero felt the gentle pressure of a hand on their forehead. They cracked an eye open and looked at Supervillain.

"No fever, that's good," Supervillain said.

Soft green light emanated from Supervillain's hands. Hero's breathing became deep of its own accord. Hero blinked in confusion.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Hero asked.

"It's a calming spell," Supervillain explained, "I don't want you to panic."

Supervillain gestured to Hero's shirt.

"May I?" they asked.

Hero felt themselves nodding, a forced calm settling over them. Supervillain thanked them and lifted their shirt.

"It seems to be healing well," Supervillain said, "my magic made short work of your cuts, but this stab wound was pretty bad."

"Magic?"

"Yes, my healing magic. You're lucky to be alive, if I hadn't found you... well, it doesn't matter now."

Normally the mention of magic would have Hero hyperventilating, but the calming spell was weaving its way through their mind and body, keeping them pacified.

"Let me work on your wound some more, you don't deserve a scar."

Magenta light flowed from Supervillain's hands into Hero's healing wound. The area began to feel warm and fuzzy. Hero watched as the wound faded away completely, leaving nothing but smooth, undamaged skin.

"Can I get you anything?" Supervillain asked.

"I, um..."

"How about something to eat and drink?" Supervillain offered.

Hero quickly shook their head. What if they poisoned it? Then again, Supervillain probably wouldn't go through the trouble to save them just to poison them... on the other hand, though, this was Supervillain they were talking about, and-

A floating tray of food interrupted Hero's thoughts. On the tray was a bowl of chili and a cup of water. Supervillain ushered the tray over with a finger. It settled a few inches over Hero.

"It's, uh, it's waiting for you to sit up," Supervillain said.

Hero sat up cautiously. The tray, satisfied, landed gently on Hero's lap. The spoon flew into Hero's hand. Hero yelped in surprise.

"Yes, that particular spoon is rather forward," Supervillain said apologetically, "you'll get used to it."

Hero gulped. What would happen if they didn't eat? Would Supervillain kill them in a harsher way? The spoon, growing impatient, zipped out of Hero's hand, filled itself with a helping of chili, and forced its way into their mouth.

"Mm!"

Flavors danced on Hero's tongue; the chili was absolutely delicious. The spoon left Hero's mouth and grabbed another helping of chili. It waited for Hero to swallow.

"I wouldn't poison you, if that's what you're worried about," Supervillain said, "I went through a bit of trouble to save you."

Hero swallowed hesitantly. The spoon eagerly shoved the next bite of chili into their mouth. Hero grabbed the spoon and started to feed themselves. Supervillain smiled.

"Why... why did you save me?" Hero asked.

Supervillain's smile faltered, replaced with a concerned expression.

"I couldn't just leave you there," Supervillain said.

"Yes you could've! You're Supervillain! You're the most powerful mage in the city, and I'm..."

"Yes?" Supervillain prompted.

"I fight mages! I'm your enemy!" Hero blurted.

Supervillain sighed. They waved a hand and an armchair tottered forward. Supervillain sat down, snapping their fingers. A cup of tea materialized out of thin air. Supervillain took a sip of it, then set it on the saucer, which was still floating nearby.

"Why do you fight mages?" Supervillain asked, as though Hero had come in for a therapy session.

"Because they use magic! And magic is- well, it's evil isn't it?"

"Look around you," Supervillain gestured to the room, "I've been using magic nonstop since I brought you here. Have I been using it for evil?"

Hero didn't respond.

"I've done nothing but heal you and tend to you with my powers," Supervillain continued, "what I want is for magic users and non-magic users to get along and enjoy each other's gifts. Of course, not everyone shares my sentiment, such as the mage who attacked you."

Hero shook their head, trying to rationalize Supervillain's words. Supervillain sighed again and stood. The tray floated away with the empty chili bowl. The spoon followed it back to the kitchen.

"You should get some rest," Supervillain said, summoning a blanket, which draped itself over Hero, "let me know if you need anything."

Supervillain began to leave.

"Wait!" Hero said weakly.

Supervillain turned.

"Yes?"

"Thank you, Supervillain," Hero said quietly.

Supervillain cracked a small smile.

"You're welcome..."

"Hero," Hero said, "my name is Hero."

"You're welcome, Hero."

Supervillain flicked their wrist, and the lights went out. They left the room to let Hero sleep. Hero snuggled under the blanket and closed their eyes. They were still very confused about many things, but maybe magic wasn't as evil as they had thought.

Ko-fi

Tags: @mythixmagic @infinityshadows @fishtale88 @thelazywitchphotographer @the-beasts-have-arrived @princessofonwardsworld @surplus-of-sarcasm

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