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Tortured and Abused


"All he could do was dream. Dream of better days, of running around with his friends on wacky adventures. Of cracking jokes with Paul, or cuddling with Patryck after a bad dream. Of playfully teasing Tom, or letting Matt on his makeup, or even drawing with Edd. What he wouldn't give to have those moments back. " ______ Tord hurt our main trio very badly, so they hurt him back. They kept him to themselves so he'd never forget their hate for him. You know what they say, hurt people hurt people. Yet did Tord truly deserve all this? This book is about the fictional characters, not the real-life people. Last names have been changed This book is possibly triggering because it contains blood, gore, and abuse. Don't yell at me if get triggered because of anything in this book, I warned you.

Other / Drama
Age Rating:


Darkness surrounded the small Norwegian boy, who was trapped in the small basement. At least, that’s where he assumed he was. Small enclosed room of darkness far enough to contain his screams, and close enough to where Edd, Matt, and Tom could come and hurt him every day for the past... How long had it been? Through passing comments and such, tord was able to gauge the days of the week, but nothing more. He could then figure out who came on what day, yet even with this knowledge, he couldn’t tell you how long he’d been here. Everything was blurring together. He could hardly breathe through the blood in his mouth, and what little food and water he’d been given he only threw up later. He bit his bruised lip as he recalled the list in his head.

Mondays were Tom

Tuesdays were Edd

Wednesdays were Matt. After that, things got just a bit more tricky. It was when they would come in pairs, but the pair wasn’t always certain, if one of them was sick, or had to be somewhere else. But if he had to guess, he’d say

Thursday - Tom and edd

Friday - Tom and matt

Saturday - edd, and matt

Sunday- all three of them.

Today was... Matt. To which the boy could be only slightly grateful for. You see, The trio had been very upset with him after the incident. As punishment, they chained and cuffed him to the wall in the basement, and would come and hurt him on their designated days. Matt seemed to be the nicest. He still held a certain level of empathy. He’d be gentler with the fragile male when he got sick, which happened frequently and would sometimes even pet his hair and hug him if edd punished him too hard. He was grateful.

A faint noise could be heard from just outside the door to his far right, the only warning he ever got before the door itself swung open, light spilling over Matt’s shoulders and reducing him to nothing more than a silhouette. The boy squeezed his eyes shut tightly. You never realize how bright the outside world is until all you ever see is darkness. Matt walked closer, twirling the bat in his hand as if he’d practiced a hundred times. His dulled grey eyes shifted to the floor.

Rule 1; Never look them in the face.

Edd had given him a small list of rules to follow when he first arrived, and failure to follow them would be met with punishment. Matt giggled, standing just in front of him. “What’s wrong tordy? Is my face too beautiful for your disgraceful eyes to lay upon?” Matt taunted, presumably framing his face with his hands. “Or are you just following the rules?” Remember how he said Matt was nice? Well, nice may have been a little too forgiving. He was just as hurtful as Edd and Tom.

Fingers gripped his tangled caramel locks and tugged harshly, causing him to topple over. He whimpered in pain as his skin scraped against the floor. “I asked you a question, ANSWER ME!” He growled, holding the tip of the bat to his temple. Tord opened his mouth to speak, to answer, but all that came out was a raspy groan. Unsatisfied with his silence, Matt held the bat high above his shoulder before swinging it down hard. The bat connected with his head, causing tord to see stars as his ears were filled with a never-ending ringing. Matt was talking, laughing, but tord couldn’t hear. He could hardly see when his hair was tugged again, but when his vision cleared again, he was horrified to find himself face to face with Matt, grinning.

“Uh-oh! Looks like someone broke a rule.” He said in a sugary sweet voice, untangling his hand and stepping away. Tord’s eyes widen in fear. “Well, I better go get Tom.” Matt left before tord could even process his words, but once he did he felt an overwhelming feeling of dried wash over him.

“No... please...” he squeaked, tears dripping down his scarred cheeks. Tom was the worst of them! He was so mean, and always beat him the hardest. Footsteps echoed throughout the basement, two pairs of footsteps. No no no no! Not Tom! Please god, anything but Tom. Matt appeared in the doorway once more, stepping aside to let Tom enter. The Brit walked right up to Tord, punching him in the face. A choked gasp escaped his lips as blood pooled in his much..

“Think you’re too good for the rules, don’t you Commie?” Tom spat, laughing at tord as he whimpered in pain. Tom grabbed a knife from the floor, one he’d given tord a few weeks ago. He laughed at the fear on Tord’s face. He swiped at Tord’s left eyes, not hitting the eye itself, but cutting the skin over hit.

“P-please...” he gasped, only to be punched again. Tom chackled at Tord’s stupidity.

Rule 2; don’t speak unless asked to.

“Guess we gotta teach you a lesson.” Tom held the knife to his right eye. Tord was shoved down flat on his back, the knife embedded in his eye. He let out a strangled scream as Tom started to twist the blade. He wiggled it a bit before tugging, giggling like a fucking maniac when the eye popped out of the socket. Tord wanted so badly to squeeze his eyes shut, but he couldn’t. Tom cut the optical nerve, holding the severed eye in his hand.

Tord could only sob, finally squeezing his eyes shut tightly as the world above him spun. Tom pulled him into a sitting position, slicing at his left eye two more times. Tord screamed and sobbed, cupping his face as Tom finally got up, placing the eye in a small baggie and leaving the room. Matt stood and watched as tord broke down, hands clasped tightly over his right socket. Crimson dripped down his face like twisted tears, and upon removing his hands a wave of blood rushed down his face like a waterfall.

Blood, it was everywhere. Matt left, shutting the door and bathing tord in darkness once more. Tord curled up on the floor, his body trembling uncontrollably. This wasn’t fair! He may have fucked up a little bit, but did he deserve to live a life of pain?

All he could do was dream. Dream of better days, of running around with his friends on wacky adventures. Of cracking jokes with Paul, or cuddling with Patryck after a bad dream. Of playfully teasing Tom, or letting Matt on his makeup, or even drawing with Edd. What he wouldn’t give to have those moments back.

Word count: 1,122

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