Gutted
Whumpee sat in a wooden chair, he had recently been released from his period of seclusion caused by the escape attempt weeks ago.
Slow footsteps echoed across the wooden floor, calmly approaching the table next to Whumpeeâs seat.
This time, his sire had not restricted him in any way, he was freer than ever. And somehow I preferred the brief sense of freedom that good behavior brings.
Whumper carried with him a bucket, a jug, and refined silver scissors. All objects had a classic, almost royal appearance. They were carefully polished and glistened in tune with the faint light of a distant candle that illuminated the environment.
He meticulously placed the smaller objects on the table and arranged them according to their size. After that, he smiled, heading towards the Whumpee
His gloved hands landed on Whumpee's stiffened hair, bringing one of the strands into his hand and running his index finger over the strand, caressing it softly.
Whumpee flintched at his touch and Whumper began to speak in a sarcastic tone
"You are always so attentive, aren't you?"
"Ruining my precious treasure" - He switched to a dark tone
" But don't worry darling, we'll fix that"Â
Whumper reached for the silver bucket and took the pitcher inside it, filling it with water. He spilled the contents of the container over Whumpee's head. A strong shiver ran through their bodies at the sudden contact with the icy surface of the liquid, closing their mouth and trying not to breathe, preventing the water from entering.
Whumper then poured a handful of shampoo into his hands, rubbing it in and then massaging Whumpee's hair gently, making small circles in the hair regions until it was utterly foamed. Then he rinsed Whumpee's long curls again, emptying the bucket and finishing the wash.
After a few hours. their hair had dried and it was time for a shave. If Whumpee showed the slightest bit of happiness at that moment, he would be lying; His hair was the only thing his master valued about him, the reason he kept him in chains, and why he always ran after it no matter how many times he tried to escape.
Such tenderness and care were only shown at this particular moment, in which he would rip out his memories of his past life again and again. Whumper had forced them to recount in detail how Whumpee's mother took care of their hair, only for him to do the same and then rip it out of them, reminding them that they were just a property, a pet, that should please his master
âIt is torture' - They thought
They would cry if their tears could still come out, but they had to be strong and hold on once more, show obedience to regain his trust and then try to escape again. This was the plan, exactly as the first time
âTime to start!â
Whumper's excited tone snapped Whumpee out of his trance, responding with a weak nod.
The sound of scissors cutting filled the room as Whumper hummed softly. When he was done, he gathered the tufts of hair into a mound that lay in the sink. Immediately, he took a glass jar from the middle shelf and carefully placed them inside, closing it and placing it in its proper place.
Whumpee stared at the three shelves filled with jars similar to the one Whumpee had just put away.
â Three . . . six . . . ten . . .â - Before they knew, there were so many more than they could count on the fingers of one hand
Whumpee's eyes filled with tears, but they had to be strong, they couldn't cry, not again.
