You Were Always Mine

Genieve struggled with Jinxx's body over the rough terrain, slipping as one of her heels snapped.
With a sigh she kicked off her shoes and dragged his weight across the mud into the abandoned tunnel, carefully avoiding the tracks.
"Let me have him." Daved sighed, dragging Jinxx by his ankles.
"Watch his head!" Genieve snapped.
He glared at her before deliberately dragging his head over the tracks. She bit her lip and winced as a nail dug into her bare foot. She knew better than to complain to Daved.
They walked for miles, her with the short nail digging ever further into her foot which was dragging in the dust and filth from years of disuse.
Jinxx began to stir slightly as they neared their destination. By the time they reached the riveted steel door to the old service room, he was blinking and looking up at Genieve.
Daved dumped him there and he began to get up, rubbing his abused head groggily. Daved pushed him back down.
"Daved!" she snapped.
He glared at her and pushed him into the small room.
As soon as the door was shut and they were out of earshot, the siblings began talking.
"I take it you want to be 'Good Cop' for this one?" Daved asked.
"For this one. I want to be 'Bad Cop' for the next on though." She smirked.
"What did you have in mind for the next one?"
"Ashley Purdy, his band mate." She shrugged, trying to play down how much she wanted him in her collection.
"Okay." He shrugged. He clearly hadn't heard of Ashley, otherwise he would never agree. She suppressed a smile and took another step, pushing the nail in further. This next week would be fun. Time for stage 1. Psychological torture- leave them until they are almost dead, then start stage 2.


Jinxx looked about the room. It was a tiny rail service room with all the computers ripped out. It looked like it had been out of use for some years.
"Help!" He screamed until his voice was raw and his throat felt like a vicious beast was trying to claw out the front of his neck.
There was next to no space there, barely enough room for him to walk 5 steps as he paced. There were no windows or natural light so he wasn't sure about the time, but he knew he had been there at least 12 hours.
He curled against a wall and pulled his jacket around him as best he could, feeling the cold seep into his bones as he tried to sleep.
He wasn't sure how long had passed now. It had to have been at least 36 hours by now. He suddenly regretted all the times he had complained about being starving, this was true hunger. All the times him and Ash had joked about psychotic fans kidnapping them, the poncho guy trying to carry Andy away, none of it seemed funny now.
He had took to singing to amuse himself, but even that left his throat raw with no water.
he nibbled his fingernails down to just the pink part and he had chewed his cuticles until they bled.
He drew patters in the dirt, slumped alone against the wall until his fingertips became grazed when they met with the rough concrete. He was trapped. His captors had probably forgotten him and he was going to die there all alone. He wouldn't even know the date of his own death. They'd ever find his body, Sammi and the boys would probably have a funeral for him, but there would be no body found to bury. This lonely room would be his grave.
Then the door squeaked, and a small girl with scarlet tresses crept in.

Notes

kinda predictable. How do the rest of BVB feel?