A/N: you have a temporary name, I literally used google translate so don't hate on me please. Sorry it's late my mom kept dragging me around town.
人形 means "Doll"
⚠️warning this chapter contains suicidal thoughts and different methods of torture

D A Y 2 : P A I N

I always hated it when he would rip out my wings. Now there's two holes in my back.
This basement has a lot of water damage. But I know he won't fix it, some of the puddles of water still have some of my blood in it.
'How much do these chains even weigh' I thought 'They must be at least 50 pounds each'.

Sometimes when I imagine what my hero would look like when they come and find me. I look at the sun slowly filtering through the tiny dusty basement window.
'I wonder what warmth feels like' I shakily get up and walk to the spot where the sun shines, but my chains jerk me back and I slam against the concrete floor.
Why do I even try.
It's useless.
I'm useless.
I can't even stand up without shaking or falling back down.
I feel shattered.
Cornered.
Stuck.
Isolated.
Trapped.
Then an idea pops up in my head. I once again inch towards a puddle of my blood slowly and begin to draw my story of the walls and floor. At least I draw on what I can reach. Just Incase I don't make it out here alive, and there is no 'hero'.
Maybe just maybe
Someone will find this place and understand what my drawings mean and tell my story. My favorite drawing that I made was of my favorite, it showed of a dragon being chained down and like me there was a person who cut off its wings.
More and more drawings fill the floor since it's the easiest place to draw, drawings from the time when I was little up to now. There was like weird warm and tingly feeling inside of my chest, I don't know what it is.
Maybe I'm just getting sick from the blood loss or maybe I got an infection and my death will finally come.

I don't know how but he does something to this basement because I would've sure as hell gotten an infection by now. And as if on cue he walks down the steps into the basement and the shifts his gaze to where I'm laying on the floor. Then his eyes widen at the blood-drawings I made and he scowls.

I braced myself for impact, but nothing came. I shouldn't have let my guard down because the second I did he kicked me right in my stomach. I curled up clenching my stomach and gritting my teeth, fighting the urge to spill a tear. My eyes glossy and shiny as is they were polished.
"You really shouldn't let your guard down" he said gently, "人形   [Ningyō]."
His voice.
It sickened me.
That name.
I hate it... but it's the only name I got. I am a doll. I might not be a pretty as one but I can't do anything unless someone does it for me. I am for somebody to play with, just to sit here and wait lifelessly. But once they get tired, he will throw me away.
And I can't wait for that day.
"Look at all this revolting art work you did"
'Oh no' I thought, 'please don't do what I think your going to do'
"It should be burned" poison carefully stitched and laced into every word, I now notice a jug in his hand and something rectangular in his pocket. My eyes widen.
"just...
like....
you..."
The all of a sudden I'm drenched in this clear liquid. 'I recognize this smell' I thought.
But before I even had a chance to try and inch away he took a light out of his pocket and set me on fire. Although my skin is resistant to fire it hurts like hell.
I would scream.
I would shout for help.
But who would hear?
I refuse to give him the please of hearing my screams.
He stands there with that trademark sharp-toothed Cheshire grin and walks away.
Since I am weak my skin can't protect me all that well so I can feel the fire slowly burning my flesh away and the smell of it makes me throw up. I can't handle the pain and I let out a blood curdling scream. The smell of burning flesh invading my nostrils and the constant heat is agonizing. I can't even cry for the fire has burned all my tears away. The smoke is suffocating and all I can do is sit here, waiting for the fire to go out. Black starts to fill my vision.

I pass out from the pain.

A few hours later I wake up on a chair. My neck hurts, scratch that my everything hurts. I tried to move but I couldn't. I am jerking my arms around and kicking my legs, but nothing. Then I think 'Did he burn my arms and legs off?' I cant even move my head, 'no mane I'm just strapped down to something'.

What feels like hours, but was actually minutes, he came back down.
"Shall we spin the wheel?" He says.
'I know he's suppose to be my captor but did this dude really bring a wheel?'
He spins the wheel.
[A/N: watching Kenka Bancho Otome Rn and I'm squealing]
'Heh he really did' I thought.
The wheel spins for a while and lands on something, the one thing that I hate the most, Electrocution. "I was hoping it landed of knives, but the wheel has spoken!" He said in a happy-go-lucky tune.
Water is dunk over my head and I bite my lips and hold my breathe in anticipation.
And then nothing.
I scrunch my eyes closed waiting for the pain.
Nothing again.
It's starting to get cold.
I relax my muscles and open my eyes. 0.1 seconds later I regret my decision because I know feel the electricity coursing through my veins.
Red.
Blue.
White.
Yellow.
Green.
My vision goes crazy. I can't even spasm because I'm locked in this chair. My heart is pounding,
My head racing,
My muscles are twitching,
And he is laughing.
I always hated this.
Not because of the pain.
But the memories.
A small flash of memory, I don't want to look but what I see is, purple hair?
Purple.
Red.
Green.
Yellow.
Blue.
The entire rainbow once again dances across my vision. My hair becomes spiky and covered with static.
All of a sudden my throat feels like it caught on fire and my chest tightens. I begin to cough up blood. I hate the color red, it sickens me.
I black out listening to the sounds of laughter.

I woke back up what seems to be the next day. I can't tell my vision is still a bit blurry. I can't even feel my muscles, but I still manage to move my right arm and once again I write.

D̵̦͙̻̮̽̾̑͆̈̅̏́̀̊a̷͓̦̥̙̳̪̞̝̍̔̍̌̄̀͋y̴̮̼̙͈̥͒ ̶̨̱̦̰̣̗̮͖̮̒̅̾̌͋͘͠͝͠͠ͅ2̷̢͖̱̘͍͚̯̳̺̦́̀̂̈̽̕