Chapter Text
The creaking of settling walls and the humming of old machinery provided a haunting ambiance within the dilapidated corridors of the labs of Playtime Co. An ambiance that was surprisingly efficient at masking the sounds of the deadliest hunter that claimed the long abandoned site as his domain. The Prototype stalked with careful precision. Some loose ends needing tidying up. The blatant betrayal of Giblet did not go unseen by the hulking tyrant of the factory grounds, and now that he had Poppy safely sequestered away he could focus on the cleanup. He skulked around a corner…
… And nearly threw himself into a violent frenzy. Two additional figures stood by Giblet. One was a ramshackle mechanical humanoid with a computer monitor for a head - The signature eye of Doctor Sawyer flickering on the display. That alone was infuriating in it’s own right, but…
… A human stood with them as well.
The Outsider.
The Butcher.
Walking, alive, and well. As though they hadn’t just experienced his claws through their chest and be left within the Poppy Gel to become nothing but mass. His claws dug deep into the wall he lurked near as he calculated his approach. Apparently the Outsider did not properly learn their lesson, and an example needed to be made of all three of them. Perhaps he should rip off the Outsider’s head and preserve their final expression on a pole at the Factory entrance.
He crept carefully closer to the group, his patience completely worn thin. Kill them quickly. Mutilate their bodies to set as an example. He got close enough to just be able to hear their voices.
“I know you don’t like our current situation, Butcher, I don’t either… But the Doctor’s our best chance we have right now!” Giblet pleaded, looking up at the human. They looked down at the toy in a perturbed silence, then looked over at the Doctor with their expression sneering in clear disdain. The Doctor’s eye flicking in an eye-roll animation, clearly unimpressed. “I get that you got this “stoic silent” image going, but… if you really really need to vent, I’ll always have an ear open for you…”
The sharp, sarcastic laugh from the Doctor pulled the two’s attention towards him, allowing the Prototype to skulk even closer without being noticed. His claws flexed and twitched, anticipating how it will feel to sever each tendon from their-
“A touching sentiment, I’m sure. However, it’s not that Puppet’s place to up and complain.” The Doctor jeered, causing the human to freeze in place. The expression on their face was… mortified. The Prototype himself paused as well. ‘Puppet?’ What-
“What… what do you mean by that..?” Giblet asked in a guarded tone, his ears flattened with concern. The Doctor turned to look down at the living toy, his eye squinting in a twisted delight.
“Why, I would be happy to explain.” He answered sinisterly before deftly avoiding the human, who frantically attempted to grapple him. There was a wild desperation on their face that wildly shook “no,” their mouth moving frantically as if attempting to speak… but no sound could be heard.
“Oh, what’s the matter, little worm? Leith got your tongue?” The Doctor’s voice mocked with intense cruelty, laughing as he avoided another attempted grapple. “It bothered me when I first saw you, you know. I did not recognize you in the slightest, meaning you weren’t a scientist for the lab. Nor a guard for the Shelf. And yet…” A dramatic pause as he avoided the human a third time, giving them a good shove to put them on the ground.
”… You navigated the halls of the lab seamlessly, aside from newer rubble, like you knew where you were going. Like you had been there before.” The Doctor’s eye narrowed as he leaned down and tightly gripped the human’s face, forcing them to look at him directly. “You looked at each and every experiment not with confusion or terror… but pity. You knew what they were before you even came here.”
The human had a fearful expression as they tried to avert their gaze from the Doctor and wriggle out of his grasp. The Doctor responded by tightening his grip, earning a pained wince from the distressed human as they squirmed and tried to pry his hands from them.
The silence that lingered despite how their mouth hung open in pain was palpable.
“So I did some digging. After all, when you had shut down my main body up in the labs, I had plenty of time.” He released their face with a shove, pushing them onto their back. “I must admit; I’m almost ashamed that I hadn’t come up with the idea, myself…” He mused as he stood up straight, tapping the side of his monitor. Every tap he made accessed a folder, until he paused on one labeled “PROJECT_GEAS”
“Truly an impressive device…” He opens the folder.
”… likely no larger than a 100 milligram tablet...” Another folder. Full of audio files.
”… And yet when placed in just the right spot, it allows one man complete control over you.” The Doctor chuckled darkly, watching the human push themself back up from the ground. However, just as they were about to try and charge him, he opened an audio file, playing it aloud.
[You just stand right there.] The file played, clearly spoken by Leith Pierre. Almost immediately upon playing, the human’s body froze in place. Their face contorted and strained as they tried to will movement, but their body stood still.
“I did not expect Leith to actually have it in him to go forward with this. Not that he has any “moral” qualms against it.” The Doctor located a broom, idly passing it between his hands. “More that I’m surprised he’d willingly spend that much money to obtain just one. He must have had a lot of faith in this little test run.”
[Sweep that corner over there.] Another audio file played as he tossed the broom towards the human, their arm deftly catching the tool mid-air before turning to the corner the Doctor had pointed at. A strained hiss of air escaped from them as their body autonomously began sweeping as commanded. The way their limbs shuddered suggested attempts at breaking free, but it was to no avail.
“Leith’s fabled “Shadow.” The unseen force that always seemed to know whenever employees spoke in ways to undermine the company. Never once did anyone suspect it to be you…” The Doctor chuckled, sauntering over behind them. ”… The humble and silent janitor, diligently cleaning in the background. Unassuming and quiet as the grave.” His voice grew quieter as he leaned close to their ear. “A little puppet told to never speak. Never write. Never communicate in any way unless ordered otherwise. Always listening, because that’s what you were good for.” He snickered out their name, as though that in itself was some kind of joke.
[You are to address me as “sir,” understood?] The recording of Leith demanded, followed immediately by a recording of the human that the physical one in front of them followed perfectly.
“Yes sir…” Their gravely, weak voice - a pale imitation to the one in recording - hitched as their entire body trembled, tears streaming from their eyes.
“S-Stop! Just stop right now!” Giblet’s voice pierced the tense air, forcing himself in between the human and the Doctor. His ears pinned back as he looked up at the Doctor’s unimpressed expression. The screen inverted white and his eye flickered to black and squinting. Giblet swallowed hard but stood his ground. “We gotta keep moving. We’re sitting ducks just standing around like this.”
The Doctor remained motionless for a few beats before his screen flicked to a closed eye while he let out a resigned sigh.
“Hmmm, yes. Loath I am to admit, but perhaps you have some sense about you after all.” He mused, turning his attention back to the human before playing one last audio clip.
[You’re dismissed.] The callous tone of Leith seemed so fitting coming from the Doctor. Shaky hands slowly released the broom as the human trembled like they were caught in a heavy storm. They slowly turned to look at the Doctor - who had his attention back on Giblet - with large tears rolling down their cheeks and absolute fury in their eyes. The two of them barely had time to register as the human wound their fist back and punched the computer screen as fast as they could. Shouts of surprise and the sound of monitor glass cracking echoed down the walls as the human managed to find a slim window of opportunity to pin the Doctor to the ground. However, the advantage they had was fleeting, and the Doctor was easily able to push them off. Their body had weakened considerably from all of the trials and tribulations they had faced within the Factory, and it could only be pushed so far. Giblet was also trying to pull them away, tightly holding their hand.
Surprisingly, they seemed to let him.
“I know! I know you’re upset! But we gotta stick together if we’re going to even get out of here alive! Let alone to be able to stop the Prototype-“
Ah, that’s right. The original reason for coming back down here. Mechanisms slowly “clicked” together as The Prototype’s face tilted in thought. Part of him tried to remind himself of his goal, but… he was trying to remember. Had he seen this ones face before?
… Yes, he thinks he had.
Once.
Only a few months after the Doctor was so ironically betrayed by the very company he poured his all into. A meek little figure that followed in Leith Pierre’s shadow when he was making his rounds and checking on the experiments. The Prototype had always thought that they were afraid of him, with how small they made themself and how their eyes darted about the room avoidantly. He took great pride in how scary everyone found him.
But it dawned on him.
He wasn’t the monster they were afraid of. There was a far worse one that wasn’t caged like he was, holding an iron grip on an invisible leash to keep them tethered to him at all times.
He could barely process the argument that was ensuing, but he came back to the present as he heard the Doctor’s harsh words linger uncomfortably long in the air.
“You may come find me once you’re done having your childish outbursts.” He sneered coldly before taking his leave. Giblet attempted to step forward to stop him, but immediately backed off when the Doctor’s eye turned a dangerous red in warning. Ultimately, the Doctor turned on a heel and walked off; stiff and furious. The Prototype couldn’t be bothered to track him, simply accepting that the Doctor had left.
And then there were two…
A soft thud echoed down the halls as the human stormed to a wall and punched it. There was attempted force into the punch, but with how much strength they have been losing with each passing hour... Slowly, their knees buckled and they collapsed onto the floor, their body shaking violently with broken sobs. Had it not been for how their breath caught in their throat, it would have been nigh impossible to tell that they were crying at all. Giblet stood by their side, a worried expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He repeated this motion several times, clearly wanting to say something but never finding the right words. Eventually, with a resigned sigh, he simply sat next to the broken human, gently rubbing their back in comfort.
It seemed to work, even if slightly. The human leaned into the touch while attempting to regain some control over their breathing. They sat like that for a while, the Prototype not really paying attention to the passage of time. The longer he thought on this situation, the more questions he had. Who was the real “Butcher?” Could he even call them “Butcher” or “Outsider” anymore? Does their body even feel like theirs anymore? How long have they suffered this?
Where were they during the Hour of Joy?
He will get his answers soon. He just needed to wait.
—
Playmate. Poppy’s angel. The Playtime Butcher. The Outsider.
There were a handful of titles that this poor human had been given during the… however long they had been back in the depths of Hell known as the Playtime Co. Factory. Right now, though, they were just…
Exhausted.
So much running. So little food. So little water.
They thought it was going to be such an easy In-and-Out. Get into the Factory. Find some kind of evidence for what had gone on in these halls. Get out. Bring to a broadcast station to share with the world. It was the only loophole they could think of after that damned, greedy, two-faced bastard ruined their life.
Demeaned. Toyed with. Violated. Completely striped of their autonomy and left as nothing more than a tool. Until the Factory went dark, and Leith was too busy focusing on that to remember his unwilling mole. That turn of events had let them at least attempt to reclaim some semblance of normalcy. They spent 10 years trying to forget, trying to get by life without being able to communicate, constantly thinking about the faces of unfortunate souls they were forced to report that Leith had made “disappear,” and constantly dealing with nightmares of the screams and cries and blood and gore...
And now that damned Harley Sawyer knew about it.
It hurt more than even the mortal wound they received from the Prototype. They kept themself crumpled to the ground, just letting Giblet comfort them. It was the first time they had any warmth from anyone in a while… it was nice.
Eventually their breathing steadied itself, and they slowly sat back up, resting their back against the wall.
“Sorry… I wanted to say something, but…” Giblet trailed off sheepishly, averting his gaze in something that resembled shame. The human shook their head, giving him a gentle smile and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He slowly smiled back, understanding what they wanted to say. The two of them remained seated on the floor for a little while longer, listening to the ambient hum of their surroundings. It was nice, almost peaceful even. But eventually, Giblet stood back up.
“I think we need to find you some water. All that crying probably made you really thirsty.” He admitted, scratching the back of his head. They looked up at him with a melancholic smile, their eyes slowly trailing back to the ground. They would get up, but they were… so tired.
“I kind of figured that’d be the case…” Giblet sighed, shaking his head. They were surprisingly skilled at body language, though he supposed desperate times… “What should we do then? You need to recover your strength, but you’re gonna need water to do that…” He started to muse to himself, tapping his foot.
Suddenly, they firmly gripped his shoulder, a resolute expression on their face as they simply nodded. He spent a moment trying to decipher the hidden meaning, and it didn’t take him long.
“No. Absolutely not! There is no way I am leaving you alone like this!” He protested, taking a step back in surprise. “What if you get found by some random Critter? Or-or an Outimal? Or worse?! How can you defend yourself when you-“
He trailed off as he saw the conviction in their face. This was the fastest option. The safest. They both knew that.
”… You know, I’m really hating that you’re right…” He sighed, shaking his head. “Fine, but we gotta find you a good hiding spot. You can’t just sit out in the open, otherwise we may as well just set a table and ring the dinner bell.”
A soft huff came from the human as their eyes squinted in delight, their hand pressing against their mouth to hold in a laugh. Giblet let out a huff, trying to hide his own pleased smile seeing Poppy’s angel look so content for once. He helped them to their feet and they made quick work finding a good place for them to hide. Out of the way, blocked by some boxes… not the kind of spot one of the toys would use to house or hunt in. But an excellent hiding spot.
Before hiding away, the human brought themself down low. Holding their arms open wide and looking at Giblet with a slight tilt of the head. Questioning. He already had an answer.
“Y-Yeah, I… I think I need that…” He responded sheepishly, pressing himself into a firm hug from them. He was grimy, uncomfortably slick like raw chicken skin, and smelled sickeningly sweet and metallic… but they didn’t care. Their embrace was warm and soothing, as if to assure him that everything WILL be okay. He almost let himself melt into it, but he had to remind himself of his mission. He gave them a pat in request, and they released him without hesitation.
“Alright… I’ll try to be fast, but who knows where the nearest water stores are… or if they’re heavily guarded. Just stay safe, alright?” He had to stifle a laugh as they playfully salute him before crawling into their hiding hole. With the gloomy lighting, they blended in very well. It was a great sign.
Before he could get cold feet, he forced himself to run off, leaving the human’s side to find some much needed water. He could only hope he could be quick.
…
The human took this time to have some much needed rest. The last time they had one was… probably when they let Poppy out of her case, collapsing after the adrenaline from running away from Huggy wore out. It was the first time they felt some semblance of safety since Safe Haven, but even then they couldn’t stop to savor it. Their chest slowly rose and fell, but otherwise they made very little movement in the shelter of their little hole.
There was a sound, but they barely register it.
Another sound, a little more defined. It filled them with a sense of anxiety. Another nightmare involving Leith, they presumed. A common plague throughout the years.
The sound became even sharper. Closer. It was absolutely Leith’s voice… calling their name. Actively getting their attention. This wasn’t just a nightmare. They held their breath, remaining as still as the air. How could it be? He couldn’t be down here, there was no way he would survive. He would have been torn apart the moment he stepped foot in the Factory.
As if he knew that he had their attention, the real horror began.
“Come this way, then turn a right down the hall.” Crisp, clear instruction that caused a pit to form in their stomach as their body began to move on its own. A strained hiss escapes from their nose as they desperately try to fight it. They just want to rest! Why can’t they be allowed to rest for once??? His voice followed them as he continued to instruct them down a set path. Why? Why was this happening??
Like their mind was being read, they received an answer
“You and I have important deTaiLs we need to discuss.”
That crackle. That distortion of strung together words.
No.
No no no no nO NO O NONONO NO
Their heart rate quickened. Beads of sweat rolled down their face. Adrenaline started pumping as they became VERY aware of every sound around them. The subtle shifting of gears. The floor creaking under intense weight that moved with deadly silence.
A sharp phantom pain returned to their chest.
How long?
How long had he been stalking them??
How much did he know???
Their memory flashed back to inside the ventilation block when his voice crackled over the phone.
‘Everything.’
Whimpers struggled to get out of their throat as they desperately tried to fight every direction that the Prototype gave them, perfectly mimicking Leith’s voice. Against their better judgment, their head started to turn to look behind them.
“Do not look back. Don’t be afraid. Just keep going forward.”
An unnatural wave of calm forced out every drop of fear they tried desperately to hold onto. It was numbing. Suffocating. Wrong. They couldn’t even look death in the face as they marched to wherever he wanted to kill them. He lead them through a secluded pair of doors, a chair sitting in the middle of a spacious empty room.
“Have a seat, PleAse.” There was… something different about his tone. The empty space where there was once fear filled with confusion. He sounded… gentle? As they sat, they heard the door lock behind them, and the sound of a large metal object being pulled in front of the door. Blockaded and trapped.
There was only one exit now, and they could only pray that the Prototype would be merciful and make it quick.
—
Extreme care and precision was needed for this. There could be no interruption, no chance of them escaping. Mimicking Leith Pierre was far too easy due to how much he spoke, so it was just a matter of stringing everything together. This was going to hurt the human deeply, and the Prototype almost felt a pang of regret doing this to them… But it was necessary.
After making sure the room was secured, he slowly brought himself in front of the human. His posture was rigid as he looked down at them. They somehow seemed so much… smaller than when he first saw them at the “tea party” Lily Lovebraids had hosted. Their eyes only held exhaustion as they looked at him in return, completely devoid of the fear that they would reasonably be feeling. The mechanisms in his neck creaked loudly as he looked down to his own hand - a full water bottle carefully wrapped in his fingers. His arm slowly extended towards them, unsurprised when they flinched back slightly. He held the water towards them at a distance that he believed would allow them to feel safe, but still be within their reach. Their eyes wandered to the bottle longingly, occasionally flicking back up to the Prototype cautiously. Curiously.
“Drink.” The voice of Leith reverberated from him as he uncurled his fingers to allow the bottle to roll closer to them. Their reaction was immediate, swiping the bottle as though they were convinced he would have pulled it away from them at the last moment. He would have considered that once. Rendering them helpless and dangling food or water so tantalizingly close, only to pull it away before they had the chance. He silently watched as they desperately opened the bottle, but managed the willpower to force themself to take slow and controlled drinks to avoid hurting themself. Their body shuddered in relief as they steadily emptied the bottle, idly passing it between their hands.
Click-click-click-click-click-click-click
The Prototype’s face slowly rotated in thought.
“I possess some questions.” He asked, his tone reflecting the same request he made to the Doctor many years ago. He knows that the human in front of him watched that tape, and the way they shiver gives him cause to believe that they remember it. With mechanical stiffness, he leaned closer to the human.
“You will answer truthfully…” The switch to Leith’s voice caused them to flinch, but the confusion in their eyes was evident. ”… But freely.” He added, slowly standing upright.
“Why have you returned here?” If this human was a complete outsider to the entirety of Playtime Co’s sins, it would make sense to want to explore a dilapidated ruin. Human curiosity is quite powerful.
But they knew the horrors that took place behind these colorful walls.
“I received a letter…” They answered, their voice strained from disuse… but not as rough as it was earlier. It would have to suffice. ”… It said that the employees were still here… and to find the flower… I… wanted to find evidence… recordings… paperwork… anything… Give it to authorities… make the world aware of Leith’s crimes… make him pay…”
That explained a lot. Every video tape, every cassette, every file they came across was carefully recorded and kept in a bag for safe keeping. The further chased into the Factory they were, the more evidence they could gather until it was absolutely undeniable.
Click-click-click-click-click-click
If they were able to freely collect evidence, that meant Leith wasn’t the one to send them. Even if he wanted it destroyed, he would refuse to allow any of it to leave site and risk being leaked to the world.
“Was your inTEnT to hurt us?” He watched as their expression became pained. Sorrowful.
“No… I didn’t… think anything had survived… I hoped… all of the kids were finally at peace… resting… Not…” Their breath began to hitch as they rapidly began to break into hysterics. “Not starving… lost… scared… in more agony than I thought was even possible-“
Cautiously. Tenderly. The Prototype pressed the flat of one of his talons against their lips. He needed to be mindful of how sharp they were… how fragile human skin was.
“Shhh… Shhhh...” He soothed, carefully choosing voice samples that were calming. Their body shook in sorrow, but they made a hard swallow and focused on their breathing. He had heard them be called “Poppy’s angel” quite a number of times; both by Poppy’s collaborators and by his own faithful - albeit the latter did so ironically to mock the dissenters. He was starting to see why they had earned such a title. His eye flickered as he caught sight of something and he stiffly pulled his hand away from them.
Click. Click. Click.
Bruising. Around their jawline. Dark. Fresh.
The Doctor.
Later. Right now, he needed more answers. Their breath has steadied, it was time to continue.
“When did they take you?” He watched their expression become puzzled.
“Clarify..?” The angel asked meekly. He reconsidered his phrasing.
Click-click-click-click
“Hire. When did they hire you?” A soft “ah” escaped from them as their expression became one of understanding. With their actions being controlled without their say in the matter, it was a joke to think of them as an “employee” of Playtime. They appeared to agree with that sentiment.
“It was some… time after the Doctor was turned… Leith never stopped talking about it… This…” Their hand slowly reached to the back of their head, gently rubbing it. ”… Was during… the “orientation.”
The Prototype listened intently as they described everything that had happened. They were in need of a job, and there was an open application to do janitor work at the factory. They knew janitorial work was not highly regarded despite its importance, so the likelihood of being hired quickly was high. And helping to clean a factory for making and shipping toys that made children happy seemed fulfilling. They were brought to a room to watch orientation videos. There was the Red Gas. They woke up with a splitting headache. Leith Pierre didn’t waste any time, telling them what their job entailed and all of their commands. No communication. Observe everything. Report everything to him. His perfect surveillance Fly-on-the-Wall.
The Prototype slowly drummed his fingers in thought with each piece of information he was given. All of the other workers had their chances to leave. To notice the red flags and question the secrecy that they willfully chose to ignore. They didn’t even bother to afford the angel that luxury. They fabricated a lie of an unassuming place of joy that needed someone to help keep it clean, and then dragged them straight into Hell with a steel grip. What he once thought was another monster from Playtime Co began to come into focus. There was just one more question that needed answering.
“Where were you during the Hour of Joy?” They certainly weren’t anywhere on sight. They probably wouldn’t have even been able to run away if they were.
“H… Hospital… Whooping cough… Caught it two or three days… before...” Their eyes slowly trailed away as they wrapped their own arms around themself in comfort. The subject of the Hour of Joy made them clearly disturbed, but fear was still not accessible to them.
Hospitalized to Pertussis. Safely far away from the Factory grounds, blissfully unaware of what was happening.
A blessing in disguise. Truly, it must have been Divine Intervention to protect them from being mixed in with the actual employees. They wouldn’t have been recognized with their clipped, mangled wings and harsh muzzle that were designed to look like horns and barred fangs.
Click-click-click-click-click-click-click
“You are like us. Like myself and Poppy.” The Prototype concluded. The angel paused a couple of beats before looking to him in confusion. His joints creaked loudly as he slowly leaned closer to them, watching them sink as deep into their chair as possible. He wanted them to feel safe, but their torn shirt reminded him that they are still in pain. “They stuck us. Beat us. Stretched us thin and scAttErEd our pieces. You, however…”
He slowly reached for the side of their face, but paused when they visibly flinched away. The memory of the tea party still vivid in his mind.
He didn’t mean it.
He didn’t realize how strong he was.
The sound of the delicate porcelain of Poppy’s face shattering because of his grasp churned deep in his nonexistent stomach.
Be slow. Be careful.
He needed to be so careful.
He slowly tilted his open palm to cup the angel’s face. Their confused expression melted on the contact, leaning more into the cooled metal and sighing in relief. No doubt the cold was soothing on the angry looking bruise. They were so small. It would be so easy to hold them and never let go.
“You were confined. Crushed. They tied you to an anchor and dragged you into their abYSs.” His fingers slowly curled around their form. “Where they ignored our cries, they removed yOuRs before it could be used.” He watched their eyes dart about in confusion and concern as his fingers locked tightly around them. Like a gilded cage to house a delicate songbird.
“Forced to watch us be tortured to overStimulation while denied you of any sensation. An angel with clipped wings, chained to Hell.” He continued to muse, his other hand curling around their lower half, leaving them gently cradled in his grasp. He watched them twitch and gasp, one hand curled around his middle finger in a desperate attempt to pry him away. He could feel it. Their pulse quickening, then soothing, at random intervals. Flickers of fear dart in their eyes as an attempt at words garble out in pathetic whimpers. Through sheer will, they were trying to overcome their prison. They wanted out.
They needed freedom.
“Shhhh…” He soothed, coveting the broken angel like they were the very porcelain that made his dear sister. “You do not need to fight it ALONe anymore…”
They needed help.
He once heard of a word used between a couple of scientists. It will be his first gift to Angel.
“Kin…” The softly muttered title caught them by surprise, their struggles halting as they stared into his glowing eye in bewilderment. He would have questioned their surprise had he not erroneously attempted to slaughter them a few hours prior. So preoccupied with keeping his sanctuary safe that he failed to recognize another lost soul who needed him. “They made you like us, but forced you to look like them. Keeping you hidden from us. Hid that you belong with us. FamiLy.”
The Prototype watched with a discerning eye as their brows furrow in confusion and distress, pity deeply taking root in him.
They needed him.
He needed to fix them.
“There is no need to worry. You will only answer to the Prototype from now on.” Even just hearing Leith Pierre’s voice reverberating from his voice box was enough to make the Prototype see red. Every passing second that man continued to live was infuriating, and the Prototype couldn’t wait to make him beg for the release of death. He learned after the change of Ms. Gracie to Lily Lovebraids; He won’t be satisfied just subjecting that man to the same tortures they underwent under his command. He needed to know his crimes, know that he did this to himself. To beg for a mercy he doesn’t deserve.
Now was not the time. File that away for later. He needed to put his focus back on Angel, safely secured in his delicate hold. He brought them closer to his face that slowly tilted with gentle clicks.
“He will neVer hurt you again. You’re home now, Angel. I will fix you.”