#restrained tw

Febuwhump2026 Day 22: Worse than death

Hours pass, no one comes.

Hours pass through into the night,

...and then day,

...and night again,

...and... day...

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

"Can you hear me?”

You don't need to read the whole story. Every day can stand for its own (more or less, at least till here). And poor Sam just has to suffer through every single one of them, I promise!

Hummingbird 07

(Story starts here) previous

...

The fizzling electrodes burning the cotton of Sam's sweat soaked shirt. The smell of burning flesh reached his nose. A flash of white agony, like someone just pushed a gleaming knife right through his heart and the world stopped.

A cruel grin in the other man's face. Frustration had gotten to him, but he had channeled it effectively by almost pushing that cattle prod through his chest.

The body in front of him had gone limb again, the head lolled forward. The slack form hanging sadly in his chains, feet awkwardly scrapping over the floor. Blood and spit were dripping from his mouth. Beats of sweat summoned on the tips of some strands of his hair, about to fall.

The gloved hand pulled his head up by the wet hair again. "There he is again, my little humm... " The man froze, hesitated a second. Sam's eyes weren't all the way closed, skin ashgrey, his mouth open.

"Hey?!" The perpetrators voice instantly thin. He shook the heavy head under his palm slightly. It felt like he was moving a bag of sand, no tension at all.

Then the hand gently put Sam's head back down and two fingers went for his carotic artery. The cattle prod fell to the floor with a dull thud, completely forgotten.

"Fuck!" Jumped out of the man's mouth. The glove was yanked from his dominant hand and he tried again. No sign of a heartbeat. Nothing.

"No no no no..." Panic highjacked the intimidator. The chain from the ceiling gave way, the limb body sank into his arms like a lifesize doll, of which the strings had been cut. He put Sam down, his back flat on the concrete floor, cuffed arms fell down, lifeless.

The man lost the other glove, ripped open Sam's shirt, starting by the hole, that was burned right in its middle. He overstretched his neck and breathed 2 puffs into Sam's mouth. His big hands went down to his middle of the fragile rib cage. Burned flesh under his palms, when he started CPR. "No no no. I'm sorry hummingbird."

Sweat from his frantic attempt to start the stopped heart working again and tears of despair mixed on his flushed face, dropping onto the pale chest of his victim.

2 more breaths for Sam and more chest compressions. A hectic hand grabbed for the cattle prod and pushed down in the same spot, where he had done it before. The electric impuls shot through the lifeless body, muscles spasming. More flesh burned. A testing hand to his neck, still no pulse. The kid's skin was cool and clammy, strains of hair stuck to his forehead, blood trickling down his ghostly pale cheek. "Kid" was a mere desperate discription of the grown man laying in front of him, while comparing their ages. He felt like he had just killed his son, despite their lack of relation.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." The man was mumbling to himself. "

He breathed for Sam again, his hands forcefully massaging the unmoving heart. Another attempt with the cattle prod. The kid's body jolted, 2 fingers to his artery.

A thud...

thud... thudthudthud, thud. His pulse was off, thready, but it was there.

An audible breath escaped the perpetrator and he sank down to his butt. Keeping his fingers on the neck to make sure for a bit longer.

A big hand brushed over the boy's sticky forehead and through his sweaty hair. The other palm finally left the young man's neck and touched his ribs all so gently.

The man lay down his face on the cool, slightly muscular but skinny body of his precious little mess. He was looking at Sam's unmoving face sideways: his jaw, his slightly bluish lips, stained with drops of blood, black lashes against pale skin and most importantly, his nostrals slighly moving. The ear on his clammy chest making sure, that his heart was really beating.

Hot tears connected with the young man's cold sweat. "I'm so sorry, my little hummingbird."

TBC

Hummingbird masterlist

Day Number One: Waking Up Restrained

Pairing: Platonic Criminal Minds Team X Reader

Word count: 624

Warnings: Angst, restraints, injury, violence, graphic explanation of murder

Requested by: none

        Opening my eyes, the darkness seemed to fill every crevice of the room that I am in. my eyes eventually began to adjust to the room, the walls seemed to be made of some sort of concrete. The only other thing in the room, besides me, is a single light hanging from the ceiling. Not knowing exactly how I managed to get myself into this situation, panic began to set in. My mind raced between the events of the previous day and the memories of this morning. As I start panicking, I feel something tug against my right wrist, looking down there is a single handcuff cutting into the already bruising skin. Following the short chain with my eyes, rebar sticks out of the wall in a semicircle where the other cuff is attached to. Taking in this new information, my mind slowed down, I was no longer actively panicking but I was still unsure of my situation. A small light peeked into the room through the door, which was now being pushed open. A masked figure walked into the room, they had a muscular build and I estimated them to be around 5’9. The figure stalks towards me, mumbling about having the FBI on his ass. Making the connection between my blurry memories, this is the unsub in our case. We had been looking for him for a couple of weeks, he killed 8 people and dumped their dismembered bodies in the surrounding states. He kept his victims for a couple days before draining them of their blood through deep cuts on each of their limbs and then freezing and dismembering them. He uncuffed my wrist, only to grab it and begin to drag me out of the room. The bright hallway led to another dim room, this one only had a chair in it. Through the small bit of light that filtered in from the hallway, I could see the almost rusted color of dried blood splattered all around the room. Getting shoved into the metal chair with enough force to make my head snap back, he then walks over to a corner of the room that is dark enough to where I cannot see anything he is doing. The glint of a knife makes my eyes widen with fear as he slowly walks back towards me. I struggle to get out of the chair, but the bindings are keeping me in place. I silently wonder to myself if the team even knows where I am or even who the unsub is. I start to doubt that they even are coming to find me when a sharp, burning pain runs down my left arm. Letting out a blood curdling scream, I begin to thrash around to try and avoid the unsubs knife. The unsub growled slightly before slamming the handle of the knife into my temple, making my vision go dark for the second time today. 

Ears ringing and body sore, Artemis slowly opened her eyes. She couldn’t see. When she opened her eyes, it still looked as if she was still closing them. Her heart-rate quickened at the fact she might be blind. No no.. I need my sight, to shoot to.. to-

No.. No. She looked down, and squinted. Barely, just barely she could see chains around her wrists, digging into her skin tightly. She could hardly move them, and she felt the cool chains around her ankles too, also biting into her skin. 

“Fuck,” She cursed softly. She felt pain. A dull, throbbing pain on her abdomen and the back of her head. Ribs? It was likely. Hopefully there was no concussion.. 

. She closed her eyes again, not even trying to recall the events from before. She was going to get hurt and she knew it. 

It was easier to accept it, yes… 

But-

Might as well be a little shit. 

Maybe they’ll get irritated of me and let me leave. 

Artemis started to tug at the chains, rattling them and making them dig into her wrists and ankles even more. But she didn’t stop, desperate to just- escape. Or  be a shit. She just wanted to get back to the base, where there were no chains. No hurting, no.. no more.

She cursed in Spanish as she struggled, just getting more irritated as the chains didn’t budge. 

She looked up, and found a red blinking light in front of her. She grinned, and raised up bother her middle-fingers before saying some choice words- In English this time. She was scared, yes. Of course. 

IT’S INK TIME!!

Inktober 1: Fish

Whumptober 1: Let’s hang out sometime

This is actually the same mer as my current pfp! I be thinking about mer,, caught in net,,, no fun, especially when you’re contorted uncomfortably, like your shoulder might be yanked out of its socket... Not too whumpy (yet) but it sure still sucks!