Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everything hurt, especially when the memories came. Blue skies, a bright sun, people whose faces were lost. It felt like a knife being plunged into his chest, into his heart again and again. He wanted to blot out those memories, alleviate the pain, but to do so would mean he would truly become a slave. A slave to that monster who ruled them all.

No, the relief, the numbness was not worth it. He would wait. He would bide his time.

It was easy, even after 20 years.

He was so hungry though. He was forbidden to leave the floor he'd been given. A "kindness" from the one who wanted to break him. 

Chapter Text

She woke up, memories of featureless people fading. Pain shot through her head, and it was hard to breathe. Something kept her down, something prevented her from moving. She shook her head to clear the fogginess, and her vision cleared.

She was strapped to a table, a bright light over her, and wires and tubes attached to her. She tried to worm her way out, to free herself, but it didn't work, the straps were too tight. 

The door at the end of the room opened, and a man in a mask walked in, and walked up to her. Behind the mask, his eyes seemed to be dead, and they held no warmth. She shivered, the red lines on it looked like blood, and he picked up a knife, his gaze locked onto hers.

She whimpered, tears threatening to spill, and the man placed a hand on her cheek. "Shh, don't cry," he said, in a soothing tone, and she bit her tongue, trying not to scream. "It'll be over quick, Starlight." The knife then plunged into her skin, and she released her scream.

He worked the knife into her arm, then pulled it out, dripping with blood. He pulled out a white cloth from his pocket, wiped the knife clean, then dropped it into a bowl, and turned to the other person who had walked in. They were holding a small black box, and the man took it from them and opened it. "Do you know what this is, Starlight?" he asked, pulling a small silver cylinder out, and holding it up to the light. 

She shook her head and he held it in her face. "It's a tracker. It'll hurt only for a second, then it'll be all over," he said, placing it on the table next to her, grabbing a sponge,then started mopping up the blood. Honestly, she had no idea why he didn't do that earlier, but she was too afraid of what was going to happen next to think of why. When he was done with that, he placed the tracker inside the incision he made, and she bit her tongue.

"There we go, not so bad now, was it, Starlight? Now, it's time to go to bed, and rest your sleepy head~." he sang, placing something thick over her face, that smelled sickly sweet and she blacked out.

She started awake, panic rising in her chest. Someone was standing over her, and she nearly shrieked in terror, before realizing that they weren't the man in the mask, and she wasn't strapped to a table. They were a woman, dressed in a chef's uniform, and had short red-orange hair that was shaved on one side, and had dark skin with lighter spots and was marked with scars. "W-who..?"

The woman placed a hand to her lips in a shushing gesture, and helped her up. "Don't try to over-exert yourself, sweetie. I don't want you getting sick here," the woman said, her hands shaking slightly. "H-here? Where is here?" the child asked, looking around. Steel grey walls, marked with grime, and the smell of blood was bad.

"This...this is the Slaughterhouse," the woman said, looking uncomfortable, and the child gasped. The smell of blood, and now that she listened, faint screams? It all was part of a place where people were killed. She was hit with a wave of nausea, and fell to her knees. "Why? Who runs this place?" she asked, panting.

"The Man in the Mask. He runs this place. The Facility.." 

Chapter Text

He scraped another mark on the wall. Another day had passed.

It was growing closer. The time for him to take action. 

He heard the sound of the elevator screeching along it's cable, and picked up his mask. They couldn't see his face after all. 

It wouldn't end well for him.

He stood to face the elevator, and he could smell something different. There was a child there, young, and untainted. Good.

It's been a while since they've had fresh meat.