#wumpee

“How much more do we have to go?”

Character A asks grunting slightly as they scaled up another jagged boulder. This better be worth it. They've been scaling these icy rocks and avoiding freezing their toes off for the better part of two months now.

Leader, Character A and Character B had been hiking through this God-forsaken frozen hell scape for so long that Character A forgot what colours other than blue, black and white looked like.

Character A swore if they died of hyperthermia they were going to haunt Leader so hard. Character B was trembling but following along behind them.

“We’re close. We’ll get there soon.”

Leader had always wanted to find the Weapon.

The Weapon was supposedly this powerful object made - crafted from the blood of the innocent, forged in the hottest pits of hell - by the warriors of old who once protected the Kingdom. A weapon that wrought destruction and despair to the enemies and struck fear in to their very bones. A weapon that burned down the rivaling Kingdoms in the matter of minutes and left nothing but ashes and smoke behind.

Then the peace came, so they did not need Weapon anymore. The warriors embarked on their last sacrifice for the Kingdom by setting out to a desolate and deserted place far, far away from civilization so Weapon did not fall in to the wrong hands.

… Apparently.

At least that’s how the story goes. For Character A it was just another wives tale people told to make the First Warriors sound more heroic than they were. To make the little ones gasp in awe at how great the Kingdom was and how powerful.

But for some reason, Leader believed it. And they wanted to *find* Weapon. Deep down Character A knew it was because they were getting desperate. The kingdom was only peaceful for so long. Whispers of an uprising were brewing, a big one. And Neighboring Kingdom was said to be the ones funding the rebels. As the best warriors in the Kingdom, it was up to them to protect their land and Leader was determined to nip this rebellion in the bud.

Character A, Character B and Leader had been through everything together, since they were children. So even in this frozen abyss that made Character A’s fingers feel like they were being cut off, they refused to let Leader face the frostbite alone. This was no different to them than that one time - when they were just old enough to learn that not all fairytales were real - Character B fell in to that pit and Leader and Character A spent the entire day getting them out. To all of them, they were just sticking together. Just like they always did and always will do.

Character B slipped on some black ice and stumbled, snapping Character A back to reality. They caught Character B before they could fall. “Leader, maybe we should take a break. We’ve been walking for a good chunk of time and the wind is picking up.” Character A called out to Leader over the wooshing of the wind.

The leader looked back at the duo and considered, they did not debate for a long time. “Alright. We need to rest and be at our best shape for when we find Weapon. Who knows what kind of traps that place has.”

They found a cave - well more like a small shelter that was made by the rock over time. But it was enough to shield them from the worst of the wind and enough to let them rest for a while.

“What do you think the weapon is? Like…. Do you think we can even carry it? What if it’s huge?” Character B thought out loud as they kindled a small fire. “Beats me, but if it's too big to carry there has to be a way the warriors brought it here right?” Character A said as they pulled out their rations, it was slowly dwindling. They have to get somewhere where they could at least drill a hole to catch some fish to stock up soon.

“What about you Leader? What do you think?” Character B asked curiously.

“It’s a fire weapon. That’s what all the scrolls say, but I don’t know what it is *exactly*…. It could be anything.” Leader says.

The wind picked up. It seemed they’re going to have to wait a bit more than Leader intended or at least until it quiets down.

“Hey…. What’s that?” Character B pointed at the edge of a rock, whatever it was it had a dull sheen that stood out from the white snow. Leader squinted. “It’s too smooth to be a rock” They say as they walk over to the object.

“Well whatever it is it doesn’t help us find the Weapon. Hey Leader where exactly is the weapon by the way? Like how do we even know we’re in the right place… I doubt there’s gonna be an arrow sign saying ‘destructive killing machine, this way’ right?” Character A muttered.

Leader didn’t seem to hear them and Character A looked at Character B with a raised eyebrow and they shrugged. “Leader…?” Character A’s voice tight.

Leader didn’t answer and turned around their expression serious.

Character A and Character B instantly knew that face. “You can’t seriously say the weapon’s here…” Character B whispered. “It’s close…” Leader holds up – or at least what used to be - a sword. “It has the Kingdom’s old emblem.” Leader looks around the space. It looks cramped, the rocks forming cluttered, jagged walls.

“B, give me some light.”

Character B lights up a torch and goes to Leader handing it to them. As leader crouches down to inspect where the sword was A joins them. “This is a terrible place to keep a weapon of mass destruction” A deadpans. They cross their arms over their chest and looks down at Leader as they brush the frost off the rock wall, tapping it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Character B exchanged a look with Character A silently asking what the hell Leader was doing, Character A shrugs and looks around.

Tap. Tap.

*Tick*

All three of them snap their heads and turn their attention towards where Leader had just tapped on the rock wall. It was hollow.

“Get the sledgehammer.”

–

The rock gave out with a few good whacks from the sledgehammer, the moment it gave out the first thing that hit all of them wasn’t the imposing cavern.

It wasn’t the huge sigil of their kingdom carved on to the floor.

It wasn’t the utter stillness of the air inside.

It was the *Heat*.

It was *Warm*. In the middle of this desert of ice with the harshest storms they found *warmth*. And it did not dwindle. The heat seeped through to the smaller cave beyond.

“Looks like we found where the weapon is….” Character B says quietly their voice echoing softly in the vastness of the cavern.

“Stick close. We don’t know what kind of traps are here. Keep your eyes and ears peeled” Leader stepped forward warily in the dark sweeping the cavern with the torch. The deeper they went in to the cavern the more the warmth turned in to a pleasant heat. Akin to a warm bowl of soup on a winter night.

Character A stumbled slightly as Character B stopped dead in their tracks - Their eyes widened and eyebrows furrowed in to confusion. Leader turned and looked at them.

“B What-”

“Shh.”

Leader and B exchanges looks, Character B was the best at tracking from the three of them and it seems something has got their attention. They don’t dare move a muscle lest they break Character B’s focus.

“Stop breathing the two of you.”

Leader and Character A don’t need to be told twice, they stop breathing and watch character A like a hawk.

Eyes wandering and looking around the cavern, Character A listened barely moving after what seemed like hours they whispered, their words sending a shiver down the other two’s spines.

“Something is breathing”

“Character B, Lead us there” Leader said. “What are you crazy?!” Character A hissed in their whisper voice. “What if the weapon is like a dragon or something? Oh shit what if the weapon is a dragon?!”

“It’s not a dragon” Character B piped up. “I-it’s too quiet for that. The breathing is too shallow” They said as they slowly led the other two further in to the cave. “Whatever it is… it’s in pain”

The dagger on character A’s holster was now in Character A’s hand, their grip so tight the skin on their knuckles paled. “… great. Whatever it is, it’s gonna be defensive….” They grumbled to themselves.

They stopped near a corner. Character B signaled that it was beyond the corner. The leader took a breath and peaked around the corner. A watched as their face intently watching the emotion playing across their face.

Confusion. Their eyes narrow and A can see their throat moving as they swallow the lump forming there.

Horror.

Disgust?

As they go to call leader, Leader moves to turn in from the corner.

“Who are you?” They say their voice level and firm. “You wear our Kingdoms emblem. Are you the keeper of the Weapon?”

“Our emblem?” A mutters as they push off and turn the corner to see who Leader is talking to.

A stops the moment they see them. A gaunt figure kneels in the middle of the space, their eyes blank and empty staring straight ahead. The heat is coming from them. Character A feels like they’ve been punched in the gut.

Character A pushes past leader closer to the person their legs moving mechanically and stiff.

The person is pale, clothes singed at the edges. Closer Character A sees the chains. Heavy and scarring the persons wrists and neck.

“Leader… I think… I think they *are* the weapon”

Character A moved closer still, now they saw the person clearly.

“Can you hear me? What's your name?” A tries to keep their voice gentle but it comes out uncertain and forceful. They cringe slightly at their own voice.

They look at Leader uncertainly before reaching out. Trying to keep their voice from cracking they address the person. “Hey… Talk.”

The person’s head snaps up so fast Character A pulls back their hand as if it burned, and to a certain extent it did… the person's skin was hot. Not to a scalding extent but it was way above a feverish temperature.

To all their astonishment the person spoken, voice rough and monotone.

“Weapon of the Kingdom ready to serve.” They said. The utter emptiness in their voice sent a shiver up Leader’s spine. Character A’s feet shifted uncomfortably and Character B just stared on at the scene in growing unease and fear.

“You…. You're the weapon?” Leader asked but the person did not answer instead training their glassy eyes at Character A in a way that made their stomach churn.

The person… they stared at Character A, waiting almost… expectant.

“A-are you … the weapon?” This time Character A asked.

“Yes. You are my handler?” The person asked.

Character A's eyes widen. Handler? What is that supposed to mean? They whip their head around to leader their eyes wide and silently asking them what to do. Leader met their stare their tightened lip betraying their otherwise stoic expression. Character A could tell Leader didn't like this at all they could see it In The way their nose scrunched the way it does when Leader had to eat that horrid dried fish Character B bought along.

But Leader nods. So Character A turns back to look at those haunted eyes.

“Yes. I'm your handler.” They say voice nearly audible over how loud the ringing in their ears are.

The person kept their eyes on Character A barely blinking. Character A shifted from foot to foot and cleared their throat trying to cough up whatever was clogging their throat. “What's your name?” They said finally.

The person stared. “I don't have one, handler. But you may call me whatever you wish. My last handler called me Whumpee.”

They all shuddered at the words. How was this person so… broken that they didn't even see their name as theirs.

This was so messed up.

Character A took a deep breath.

Yk how Steve's serum amplified everything about him? All the good, and righteousness, any humanity and kindness were all increased.

Well, the same would of happened for Bucky, and goddamn, we know how beautifully human he is. He left his family to take care of Steve (an outcast and someone who would of struggled to keep up with a fit able bodied young man who had no issue with picking any woman he wanted), he worked shift after shift just to keep the two of them afloat; that is more than kindness and care. His serum would of made that all so much stronger, but you know what that got him? It was torn from him.

"Wipe him"

Over and over again. Any time any kindness (because recognising his love for Steve on that bridge was kindness), was shown, any time any humanity was shown, or any righteous was displayed, it was ripped from him.

@juneofdoom

Day 7 "What's the bad news?"

Whumpee has been missing for a week. At this point, Caretaker didn't want any news unless it was that Whumpee was found unless they were dead. Then maybe they don't want to hear that Whumpee was found. They also worry how injured Whumpee would be once they're found. Caretaker knows they can't avoid hearing about Whumpee forever. If Whumpee was found, they'd wonder where Caretaker is.

Caretaker is terrified to hear about Whumpee, and a knock on the door scares them. They open the door, seeing an officer. "We found them," the officer says. "What's the bad news?" "Other than they were unconscious, I don't know the extent of their injuries. They've been taken to the hospital." Caretaker thanks the officer, and the officer leaves. Caretaker isn't sure if they should go to the hospital. They aren't family or married to Whumpee. They love whumpee but never told them.

"Excuse me? I'm a friend of whumpee." "Sorry, all I have here is they were brought to the emergency department twenty minutes ago." "Ok, thanks." Caretaker sits in the waiting room, hoping a doctor will tell them something soon, even though they're worried it'll be bad news.

An hour passes before a nurse enters the waiting room, looking for Caretaker. They bring Caretaker somewhere private, which scares Caretaker.

"You were the emergency contact on Whumpee's phone," the nurse explains. "Oh? I'm just a friend. I can give you the contact information for their parents." "That would be nice, but you have the right to know what's going on, as it seems Whumpee wanted you to know if anything happened to them." "H-how are they?" The burse hated how scared Caretaker was to ask the question. This was one part of their job that never gets easy. Caretaker is horrified hearing the extent of whumpee's injuries. Even if most seem minor compared to the head injury and being in a coma. The doctors don't know when whumpee will wake up, which adds to the uncertainty after whumpee wakes up. For now, whumpee is stable, and it's a waiting game.

Caretaker hates seeing Whumpee in a coma. They knew that meant Whumpee would be on a ventilator, but they worry about the EEG running. They know this means the brain injury is serious enough to need to monitor brain activity. Caretaker has no idea what the test is showing now. Hoping it's good news. Caretaker hates calling Whumpee's family but knows they have to.

Within twenty minutes, the room is packed with Whumpee's parents and siblings, the medical team caring for Whumpee, and Caretaker. The family and Caretaker know the medical team has to tell them the worst outcome, but they hate it. It's not a comfort to know the medical team can't predict the likelihood of each outcome presented. Especially while Whumpee could be in a coma for weeks. All they can do is hope for a full recovery.

Okay so I have finally gotten around to writing my own whump! Yay! Hope you enjoy!

There is something deeply wrong in his leg, Jami knows this. But messing up his leg is the last thing from his mind as he crawls away from them. If they find him, a broken leg potentially wrenched out of place will be the very least of his worries.  He pulls himself through the garbage scattered about in the dark, nearly crying out when a cat hisses at him from the other side of the dingy lit alley. 

His blood runs cold at the sound of far too cheerful whistling echoing down the alley to his ears. Wayne Kross. His heartbeat picks up. If Wayne found him. . . 

“Jaaaammiiiiii,” Their voice takes on a sing-song tone as they stride ever closer and closer to the alley, secluded between a closed restaurant and a rundown apartment complex. 

Jami’s eyes dart around for a hiding spot, eyes landing on a garbage bin three feet from their face. The black plastic lid had been torn off and it rested on it’s side, the opening so, so close. Hurriedly he crawled forward, loathing the noise that moving made, and maneuvered his bad leg in first. Wincing at the deep aching pain radiating from the fracture, he shoves the rest of himself as deep as he can manage in the damp, slimy container. 

Tears of pain slip past his closed eyes. He aches, deeply, not just the fucking fire clawing up his leg, but his entire body is pulsing in time with his heartbeat from a hundred bruises. He wishes he could at least clog his nose to hold off the putrid smell, his stomach threatening to rebel against his brain. As an afterthought he pulls an intact bag of garbage over most of the opening, blocking out the little light available, and hopefully any view of him from Whumper. 

“Come on out Jami, seriously this little game of yours won’t solve any of your problems.” The footsteps stop at the mouth of the alley, feet scraping to a stop on the paved ground. 

Jami holds their breath, in the hope that belated silence will amend for the racket of climbing into a fucking garbage can to escape a sadist! 

“Let’s have a nice chat, you and I.” Wayne continued striding closer, “I’ll make you a deal Jamsi, you crawl out of that lovely little trash receptacle,” Jami’s breath caught, “and come with me willingly.” They continued as they stopped close to the can, “and I’ll let you go after I’ve had my fun.” 

He took deep breaths of air, thick with god-knows-what, gulping it down as fear took hold of their mind. He can’t go back, not back to the cold room, with whips and knives decorating the walls like children’s art. Not back there. 

He whimpered from inside the only shelter he had against Wayne. He was going to be taken back whether it was dragged, kicking and screaming or willingly. Willingly. The thought turned his stomach to ice. But it was a thin hope of freedom.

“Deals only on for about,” a pause, “30 more seconds. You make me get my jeans dirty and you’ll die screaming,” a full body shudder is ripped from him at the threat, “or you can live screaming for like two weeks to a month or so, really depends really on how stressed I get. Your call.” 

Jami nearly kicked the inside of the garbage can in frustration, he wanted to scream,  he wanted to hit something. But most of all, he wanted to cry at how stupidly stupid and insane this entire situation is!

“By the way you’ve got 15 seconds before I drag you back by that broken leg.” Wayne remarked nonchalantly, as if he didn’t just say something worthy of pissing yourself over. 

Cursing themselves but desperate, Jami scrambled to get out of the garbage can as fast as humanly possible. Pushing aside the sticky plastic bag and whimpering at his leg, his stupid fucking leg. Dignity and silence be damned, he couldn’t just throw away the one chance he had at living through this. He emerged to see them standing above him with a smug smile they didn’t even try to hide. Bastard. 

“Knew you were smart, for a second I thought you were going to wait until the last possible second.” They crouched down in front of him, apparently uncaring about their footwear getting ruined by the sludge Jami was currently covered in. 

Jami glared up at them and their stupid self-satisfied face, resisting the strong urge to spit at them. Wayne only chuckled, breaking eye contact to drag their gaze over Jami’s beaten and exhausted body. He tried not to squirm away, like it would do anything to ward off Wayne’s gaze. He didn’t much like the hungry look in their eyes when they passed over their leg.

Suddenly Wayne stood, the movement pulling a sharp flinch from Jami. “Claude, bring him back to *shady location*.” With that Wayne turned from him as an impressively large figure filled Jami’s vision. He swallowed thickly in terror. “Oh, and get that filth off him. Don’t want him to get any infections, now do we?” 

Party People

Wumpee trembled under the harsh lights. Music played around them, it would have been a plesent tune if it weren't for the fact that it was ten times too loud. With how bad their head was pounding Wumpee could barely process the hands that seemed to constantly poke and prod at them groping and grabbing wherever they could reach.

Wumpee had been chained up in the center of this terrible ball for three days straight having only dranken a few nauseating glasses of champagne and a little bit of brownie that someone let them take a bite of. Arms hung above their head. It was getting harder stay standing as they drifted in and out of consciousness but it hurt too much to go limp.

Just a few more hours, you can be their little show piece for just a few more hours. Wumpee told themselves as if they had any real choice in the matter. Their arms and hands were painful numb but they were barely aware enough to recognize it. They couldn't even feel the people tracing their scars, pulling their hair or taking feathers from their wings which Wumpee was sure were now incapable of flight as the hung uselessly off his back.

People danced around dressed in diamonds and pearls, their extravagant dresses and suit made the bare figure on display stand out starkly. The joyous music played as people spun in dizzying circles around the so called "angel".

Just a few more...

Wumpee didn't realize they was unchained until the next morning when they woke up on the ballroom floor, sun shining through, head pounding, all alone.