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When Kris wakes, everything hurts.
The last thing she remembers is walking through the parking lot, then a flash of pain at the back of her head and everything going dark.
She blinks, hoping the slower she does, the less she’ll aggravate the pounding in her skull. But when she tries to raise her hand to the back of her head to check the damage, she can’t.
She can’t move at all.
So she forces her eyes open entirely to figure out where the fuck she is.
The room is painfully dim, lit only by a solitary bulb hanging from the ceiling, forcing her to squint to see properly. Some kind of storage closet, maybe? Big enough for her to be sat on a chair with ample space surrounding her, but not so big that it could be used for anything other than stowing things away. Things or people .
From how it feels when she shifts her limbs, she’s tied securely to the chair, her ankles bound to its legs and her wrists behind its wooden back, forcing her body upright. Her mouth is taped equally well, making yelling for help an impossibility. She tests it anyway, shouting for someone, anyone - Willow - to find her. But all that comes out is a muffled groan, barely loud enough to be heard from a meter away.
And there’s some kind of pressure around her neck. She can’t see what but it doesn’t feel like tape. It feels thicker. Heavier. Like a collar.
If somebody’s put a dog collar on me, I’m gonna show them a wild fucking animal and rip their throat out.
Then, the door opens. Blinding light, framing a silhouette. A woman.
Kris turns her face away from the sudden light, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Oh, poor baby. Your eyes haven’t adjusted? I know it’s dark in here.”
She knows that voice. When you hear that voice, something bad always follows.
Marina.
When Kris next opens her eyes, Marina is crouched in front of her, appraising her bound form with a smirk on her face. “You look very pretty like this, you know? So docile and quiet for me.”
Kris just swears at her from behind the tape, hoping Marina gets close enough to headbutt.
But she keeps her distance, shaking her head mockingly and tutting. “I can’t understand you but I know you’re being rude. So I’m going to teach you some manners.” She reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a remote. “You might be able to feel something around your neck. It’s a shock collar. So when puppy is naughty...”
She presses the button and Kris’ entire body explodes into pain, sending flames shooting through every limb and lighting her nervous system up like a Christmas tree. If she screams, she doesn’t hear it - all she can hear is the pain. She didn’t think pain had a sound before today. Now she knows it’s crashing waterfalls and splashing blood and white-hot embers crackling in darkness, pouring in a steady stream from every orifice.
“-puppy gets a shock.” Marina releases the button and Kris slumps forward as far as the restraints will allow, breathing hard through her nose. Her head is lifted up, gentle thumbs wiping tears from her eyes, and through the blood rushing in her ears, she hears Marina say, “It doesn’t have to be like this. All you have to do is join us. Join the Death Riders and everything you want will be yours.”
As she says this, she peels the tape away from Kris’ mouth and Kris takes a deep, shuddering breath. “Everything I want?”
Marina strokes the back of her head. “Everything you want.”
Kris shakes her head, a delirious laugh bubbling at the back of her throat. “You can’t give me what I want. You’ll only get me further away.”
Marina’s eyes narrow and she grips Kris’ hair, pulling her head back so she’s forced to stare at the ceiling. “Nightingale doesn’t want you. She’s made that very clear. Why keep chasing after her when you could start chasing something real?”
Kris smiles. “It’s what puppies do, I guess.”
Marina sighs. Then she presses the button again.
Kris won’t give her the satisfaction of hearing her scream. But it makes her wish for the gag as she bites her lip hard enough to draw blood, tears rolling down her cheeks as the blistering hot agony tears through her body once more. The pain leaves her feeling raw and vulnerable, as though Marina has stripped her naked and is slicing a path across her body with a razor blade.
“If you have any kind of survival instinct rattling around in that lovesick brain of yours, you’ll join us. It’s only a matter of time.” Marina grabs the roll of tape, which Kris hadn’t noticed on her floor next to her, and rips off a few strips to smooth back over Kris’ mouth. “I’m gonna give you a little while to think about it.” She leans in close. “Maybe to think about how little you want another shock, my pretty puppy.” Then she kisses Kris on the temple and leaves.
Kris is too exhausted to consider Marina’s offer. She can’t even tell if it’s sweat or tears rolling down her face. Sluggishly, she tugs at her bonds, hoping the adhesive will have loosened, but she’s still stuck fast. She can’t even separate her lips under the tape on her mouth. She’s helpless to whatever Marina wants to do to her next.
But she’s not thinking about that. All that runs through her mind is Willow finding her in here, gently unbinding her from the chair, scooping her agonised, weary body into her strong arms, and whispering gentle reassurance into her ear as she sweeps her far away from here, to somewhere safe where all Kris has to think about is sinking further into Willow’s protective embrace.
The door handle turning makes her snap her head up, fear rattling her bones.
“Kris?” A whisper comes from the doorway. “Kris, is that you?”
It’s Yuta.
Kris starts to beg desperately from behind the tape, not caring that her muffled incoherent whimpers form nothing close to words. They had been friends once. He wouldn’t let Marina do this to her. Would he?
Yuta slips into the room, closing the door behind him. “Shit. Kris, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” He kneels in front of her and eases the tape off her mouth. “They told me to get you onboard, but when you didn’t respond to it… I guess Mox thought a stronger approach would work instead. Shit.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” She whispers. “If you had told me they wanted me this badly, I could have pretended to go along with it. I could have protected both of us.”
Yuta smiles sadly. “There’s no protecting me now. But I can get you out.” He starts to free her hands, making Kris wince as the tape tears at delicate skin.
But before he can free her, the door opens again.
And this time, there’s two of them.
Mox clicks his tongue disapprovingly as he saunters into the room - followed by an ever-smirking Marina - barely casting a glance over Kris as he fixes his gaze firmly on Yuta. “You know, Wheeler, I don’t remember asking you to get involved this time.”
“You don’t have to do this,” Yuta pleads, coming to kneel in front of Mox. Kris swears she can see a flash of pleasured amusement across his features, but it’s gone as quick as she sees it. “I can convince her. Just give me some more time.”
Mox goes down on one knee until he’s level with Yuta, his expression tauntingly earnest. “I did give you time when you told me your ‘let’s hold hands and skip into the sunset’ approach would work. But you overestimated your friend’s capacity for bullshit, which seems to be your specialty.”
As he and Yuta argue over tactics, Kris flexes her fingers against the tape. Yuta managed to loosen it considerably before they were interrupted, and she’s pretty sure in a few minutes she’ll have her hands free. But she’ll have to be subtle about it; when she glances up at Marina, the other woman is staring at her as though Mox and Yuta aren’t even in the room, an evil smile playing on her lips.
“You think she’s just gonna come running into our open arms after what Marina’s doing to her? That’s bullshit.” Yuta continues angrily, pointing at the collar around Kris’ neck. “What is outright torture gonna achieve?”
Mox shrugs. “I think Kris here responds better to violence than friendship bracelets. I think pain is a language she understands. It’s something we have in common.” He grabs Yuta’s chin roughly. “See, her and I-” he tilts his head towards Kris, “-are pretty similar. She doesn’t have time for wishy-washy ohana-means-family crap either.”
“I’m nothing like you,” Kris mutters.
This time, she knows she sees relish in his eyes as he tosses Yuta aside and crouches in front of her instead. Kris resists the urge to spit at him, only because she knows he would have no qualms about smacking her across the face if she did, and keeps her eyes locked onto his so she doesn't have to see Marina smiling in the corner like a sleep paralysis demon.
But then, the tape around her wrists finally comes undone.
She keeps her face completely neutral so it doesn’t betray her to the Death Riders’ vicious leader as he stares deep into her eyes, as though he can read her thoughts.
“We’re plenty alike, kiddo. And that’s not a bad thing.” He leans in closer to murmur, “The only real question is - when are you going to give into it?”
She leans as far forward as she can, making sure she doesn’t go far enough to alert him or Marina as to her unbound hands. “Not in this lifetime or the next.”
He smiles. “That’s up to you. If Shafir can’t bring out the nasty in you, then no one can.” He gets up, grabbing Yuta by the scruff of the neck to drag him upright and throw him out the door. “She’s all yours.”
The door closes and Kris is left with Marina once again.
Except this time, Kris has her hands free. She keeps them clasped together so they still appear bound, but when Marina comes to bend over her, presumably to gloat...
...Kris smashes her forehead against Marina’s as hard as she can.
Pain explodes behind Kris’ eyes, blurring her vision and making her taste copper, but it’s enough to make Marina gasp and knock her back on her ass, which is all Kris needs to lean down and wrench her ankles free. She just about rips the last of the tape off before she hears Marina growl and looks up to see a fist driving straight for her head. Dodging it at the last second causes Marina to stumble onto her, so Kris wraps both arms around her midriff and spears her to the floor. With the other woman dazed, Kris forces herself up off the ground and lurches towards the chair, so she can bring it down on Marina’s smirking fucking face until she’s knocked every last one of her teeth out.
She grabs the chair and whirls around with it clenched in both hands.
But Marina’s smiling at her, completely unbothered, with something grasped in her right fist.
“Nice try, puppy. But Yuta should have removed the collar instead of your gag before we found him in here,” Marina pants through gritted teeth, and presses her thumb down on the collar’s remote.
Kris howls in pain as she collapses, her grip loosening around the chair as it clatters to the ground with her. She curls herself into the fetal position as though that will somehow numb the agony racing through her like fire through gasoline. Screams, pleads, moans all fall from her lips as loose and non-committal as dandelion fluff in the breeze. Nothing she said would have made Marina merciful anyway: the woman stood above Kris’ writhing, trembling form with a hungry glint in her eye that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a lion standing above an wounded gazelle. Then she released the button and tucked the remote away. She wouldn’t be needing it for a little while, she knew that was certain. Once Kris was nicely bound once more - maybe on the floor this time, make it as hard as possible for her to fight back - Marina could break out some other tools. Maybe a suffocating chain would look nice around her neck instead of the collar. Marina licks her lips in anticipation. Plenty of time to find out.
Kris whimpers helplessly as Marina pulls her up off the floor into a kneeling position. She gazes up at her captor with tear-filled, pathetic eyes, unable to find the words to beg for leniency as her cheeks are stroked and her sweat-soaked hair is pushed away from her forehead by deceivingly gentle hands.
Marina leans in close, her voice soothing. “Now, you’ve got all that silliness out of your system… are you going to behave?"