✖ twisted ;

capturedmaiden:

The blonde quickly grabbed onto the youths wrist. She couldn’t believe he could honestly fit in this thing…even though the boy was small and young, his body was far too cramped. With a strong tug, she couldn’t even dislodge him first try. This was going to take a bit. 

“Honestly…” She started, her voice just as quiet. “I don’t see how anyone thought this was a good idea.” Her voice began to strain, as she continue to tug and attempt to force the child from the torture device he was trapped in. “This is straight out child abu—!” With a harsher tug then before, she had finally managed to dislodge him, and the two landed in a heap beside each other, various cans of food, and other unimportant items falling behind. 

But at least, she thought, she had gotten him out in one piece. That in her mind, was the more important thing at hand. 

Picking them both off the floor, and dusting herself off, she finally managed to get a good look at the boy. Blue locks, an eye with a strange symbol inscribed…it looked painful to her, but she pushed it aside. She imagined this was only one half of the horrors he had faced. And a surge of anger began to storm inside of her. 

“Who in the world did this to you?” She asked, her voice nearly cracking, as she bowed down to his eye level. “Such blatant…and unspeakable child abuse…!” Her hands balled into fists, so hard, her knuckles were turning white. She could ignore what had happened to her for now, she wanted answers as to why a child was here, and why he was in the condition he was. Bruises, Cuts. Whoever did this obviously didn’t care for the well being of him.

Closing her eyes, the older of the two tried desperately to soothe her rage. This wasn’t the time to snap. There was a child here against his will, trapped in a cabinet much too small, the important thing now was to make sure he wasn’t hurt any worse then the flesh wounds and blemishes upon his skin.

Her voice was soft once more, and was calm again. “Are you alright?” She asked.

As she awaited an answer, her eyes roomed the rest of the kitchen area. Aside from the still boiling pot of water with what smelled to be noodles, there was one small corner she had neglected to check. That would be their next area of exploring, should her new companion wish to be involved in escaping of course.

“That corner doesn’t appear to have been checked yet.” She noted, as she carefully began to tread near it. She peered around the corner to find it boarded up. Whoever had placed them up did so to keep someone out, she assumed. The boards, while many, were nailed directly over an entrance to something. The boards also looked weak, and covered in a thin layer of dust. These weren’t installed yesterday… 

She made her way back to him, and placed her gentle hand on his shoulder. She softly squeezed before half leading him towards the area she had been so curious about, as the sounds of foot steps echoed through the dining hall. She ducked behind the corner of the area, back against the weakened wooden planks. Her arms tight around the youth as she held him close. 

All they could hear was the sounds of heels against tile, it must have been that maid she met before. The one who had readied the outfit she was wearing. She leaned forward slightly, trying to get even a tiny glimpse at what the maid was doing.

What she saw seemed normal, and yet still put her on edge. The strangely beautiful woman, thin, with a green corset on and an apron, two shoulder length purple curls hanging off of them, was stirring that same pot. Her eyes were locked onto it. It appeared as though she was heavily distracted. 

Breathing in, she released the child, and stood back up. Good. The Maid wasn’t likely to trouble them. Fiona’s eyes traveled back to the young boy, and it was then, that it hit her that she hadn’t bothered to supply a name for herself, and hadn’t received one from the child either. 

“My name is Fiona.” She started, her voice just barely a whisper. “May I ask who you are…?”  

As if he forgot what he just asked of her, when she put her hand around his wrist, he tried to tug it away. Though soon he calmed, knowing full well that he probably wouldn’t be going anywhere for who knows how long if she let him go. The first tug on his arm just barely adjusted him. The harsh stinging worsened as he was pulled a little bit outward, though not nearly enough to let his arms and legs fully breathe, or stretch out his back. He groaned in displeasure as she tugged him again, hearing but disregarding her words. He felt like his shoulder would be dislocated if she tugged any harder, and his cramped legs and back were screaming at him in protest of what was happening. The final tug made his eyes go wide, as he sprawled out of the cabinet and onto the floor. He stayed there for a moment, actually feeling blood release down to his legs again. His breathing was shaken, as he placed one arm to his leg, to almost appreciate the fact that it was still there, and that the room was so big - there was no way he’d be getting cramp up again. When he was helped up, his back cracked a multitude of times. It felt so uncomfortable that he even had to bend himself back. A loud cracking noise sounded, and he let out a sigh as he straightened up. His hand was placed firmly on the wall to keep himself up as he tried to get used to walking again.

His fearful and surprised expression dulled as she lowered herself to meet eye to eye. Her hair was a light blonde, with bright blue eyes to match. She didn’t look like someone who would do such horrible deeds, but then again, she’d probably never guess that one of his nicknames was “the evil noblemen”. He didn’t know how to answer her, because it only half seemed like she was speaking to him, then ranting to herself. Her sudden anger at his condition surprised him, because this wasn’t the first time he’s been kidnapped. Every and all kidnappings were harsh and painful. He was punched and kicked until he bled, threatened to be killed, having chloroform wrapped around his face - this wasn’t new to him. However, unlike the other times, he hadn’t a clue how or why he got there. He guessed if she was with him, angry by what they’d done, she wasn’t part of it. Maybe she was an escapee. 

“I’ll be fine,” he answered quickly, and simply. There was nothing else to say, anyway. His voice returned to his normal tone, though his thoughts were screaming in his mind. Fear, confusion, anger - these emotions plagued him, but he fought them away from his conscious mind. The room they were in looked more or less like a storage room, particularly one in a kitchen. Ciel recognized it because he has one in his mansion, for the use of his servants - mostly Bardroy and Sebastian. 

He waited as she checked the boarded up door. If there were any proper tools in the cabinets or shelves, they’d likely be able to break through. He didn’t say a word as she inspected it, as he tried to come to terms what exactly was going on. He didn’t plan on becoming a companion with this woman until he knew just what was going on. The supply area looked old and dusted, the rock walls surrounding them without proper light to save the corners and shadows from seemingly unnatural blackness. As she made her way over to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder, his body completely tensed. Though as she nudged him forward, he promptly took enough steps in front of her to break their touch. Ciel hated being touched - even slightly - due to the men and their vile tendencies during “that month” of his life. The woman in the room with him had no idea about that, but the bluenette couldn’t help but he hostile about it.

The sudden sound of heels against tile startled him, and before he knew it, the woman pulled him back and embraced him tightly as the steps came to a stop. Almost automatically when the silence filled the room again, he pulled the woman’s arms off of him and peered out the door along with the older. It seemed to be a maid, cooking. Though he felt a bad vibe about her. Was it her eyes, that were locked on the pot? Was it her face? She was a beautiful woman, dressed in a fashion he very much recognized. The fancy corset and dress matched what his mother wore on several occasions. Though a maid, she did not wear the appropriate attire. Ciel wanted to ask her some questions, but glancing back up at the woman, he noticed she looked a little frightened of this woman. The steaming sound of a pot and the smell of some type of meat and noodles filled the room. The boy scrunched his nose a bit as it settled. 

By the time he looked back at the blonde maiden, she was already looking back at him. Fiona. Her voice was quiet because the maid was in earshot of them. Talking normally could very well get them caught. But Ciel didn’t fully understand why that was a bad thing. Maybe, if he could get some answers out of the woman in the other room, he could learn why he was in there. “My name is Ciel,” he whispered back, then averted his eyes to the doorway leading to the working maid. “Why are we hiding?”