Broken Dead Boy

Andy groaned and his eyes fluttered open. He coughed, his throat dry, as his foggy mind began to focus. His blinked a few times and took in his surroundings.
“…crap…”
He was in a dark grey room with metal walls. There were shelves of stuff that he couldn’t make out and carts with sheets covering them. He was chained up to what felt like a cold metal pole with his hands behind his back and is body exposed. All he was wearing was a tank top and jeans and he was on his knees.
He shivered from the cold and anticipation of what would happen next. He pulled against the pole slightly, wincing when the chains chafed his wrists. He twisted is head back and forth then realized that his BVB necklace was still on. He frowned at it, sighing and pushing against the pole to stand up.
“Ah, you’re awake!” Andy jumped, startled by Rochelle’s cheery voice. “Finally,” she muttered.
Andy rolled his eyes. “Wish I wasn’t,” he commented cockily.
Rochelle raised her eyebrows. “Well. Cocky, aren’t we?” she shrugged. “That rude attitude will be gone soon,” she waved her hand, turning to one of the carts and yanking off the sheet, tossing it to the ground. Andy grunted, trying to see around her as se sorted through objects he couldn’t make out.
She tilted her head. “This’ll do!” she announced, turning with a sickly looking curved knife. The blade was black and the handle was blood red. Andy subconsciously wondered if it had started that color.
As she stalked closer with the knife in hand, Andy pressed himself closer to the pole. He swore twenty times a second in his mind and breathed carefully. Rochelle finally stopped with the knife an inch away from Andy’s cheek.
She smiled. “Oh, Andy, let’s get started, shall we?”
“Do I have a choice?”
She laughed. “No,” she replied sweetly as she pulled the knife away,
“Now let’s see…” she pulled the top of Andy’s shirt down a bit. Andy shivered at her cold touch. Her grin grew and she placed the knife at the tip of his right collarbone. She tilted her head. “How about this…?” she pushed the knife against his skin until it penetrated it. Andy gasped in pain as she traced the knife along his collarbone and flicked it off at the end. “How was that?” she asked.
Andy set his jaw and breathed harshly through his nose.
Rochelle rolled her eyes. “Here,” she cut from the inside of his left collarbone until she sliced his sleeve off and continued the line down his upper arm. “Oops,” she joked.
Andy gritted his teeth to deal with the agonizingly slow cuts. She finally stopped at his elbow. “Are you done being sassy, Andy?”
Andy scoffed. “As if, asshole.”
Rochelle raised her eyebrows. “Well then…” she turned sharply on her heel, stalking back to the cart. She toyed with a few things before turning again and walking back. She held up a small lighter. She smirked when Andy’s eye widened and she flicked it on. She slowly brought it closer to Andy’s face. He pulled back, straining his neck as it got closer to his chin. He pushed back on the pole as far as he could and he felt the heat on his chin. He turned his head away.
Rochelle tsked, pulling the flame away. “Andy, Andy, be careful! You’ll burn your beautiful hair…” she reached out and caressed a lock of his black hair. She sighed. “Well then…” suddenly, she shoved the lighter under his chin again. “Burn.”
Andy cried out and yanked his head away, but not before his chin was badly burned. Rochelle laughed merrily. “See you later sweetie!” she sang, skipping to the door. She tossed the lighter on the cart on the way out.

Notes