#And here we are! Bonus Phoenix Whumptober content!

[pigeonwhumps]

Crucifixion part 1

Immortal Cannon Fodder masterlist

Whumptober masterlist

Day 3: HAIR'S BREADTH FROM DEATH | gun to temple | "say goodbye" | impaled

Taglist: @extrabitterbrain @wolfeyedwitch

Phoenix is crucified.

Set when Phoenix is 18, about three years before they meet Kai.

1.4k

CWs: Immortal whumpee, temporary character death, 'hair's breadth from death' only works because they're immortal which I guess is a warning on its own, crucifixion, non-con drugging, non-con partial stripping (non-sexual), kidnapping, near-suffocation, panic attacks, restrained, hand whump, emeto, death wish (right at the end), mentioned serial killings, background team whump, brief mentions of horrible self-care

“And the main story again. Another three people have been killed in an explosion towards the south of the city, including one powered civilian. It is suspected that they are the latest victims in the recent spate of attacks on powered people by a group calling themself The Chosen Ones. Their leader has declared superpowers an ‘unnatural deviation against humanity that must be wiped out’. The police are urging anyone with powers to lie low and stay vigilant. In the meantime…”

Phoenix sighs and turns the news report playing from their phone off, fiddling with the tracking bracelet around their wrist. They’re not sure how it’s meant to help, really –  this group are killing so fast that by the time someone noticed they were missing, they would be dead. If the killers didn’t destroy the bracelets first.

They need some air. Being trapped in the flat with Abbie, Indigo and Segun for several weeks hasn’t been good for them, even if they do have roof access. Someone’s not going to try to kill them in five seconds, right? Not so close to the Hero League HQ.

Besides. Someone has to empty the bins, and no-one else will do it.

Phoenix leaves the (admittedly debatable) safety of their room and empties bags out of the various bins, telling their team where they’re going at the same time. They’re not sure anyone heard over the soap playing on TV, let alone actually bothered to listen, but they’ve notified someone, that’s all they need to do. The chances that any of their team would attempt a rescue with the red alert on is very slim anyway.

They head downstairs, juggling the bin bags in one hand as they sign themself out (and that’s new too), and run round the back of the building to where the large wheelie bins are kept, tossing the bags in before they can burst. Then they look up.

It’s a crisp autumn day that makes them glad they’re wearing thick boots, and the gnarled old oak tree that’s somehow growing through the cracks in the concrete is dropping red and orange leaves. There’s already a pile on the ground, and Phoenix crunches in them, smiling to themself. They love the sound of crunching leaves.

A leaf twirls down towards their face and they catch it, admiring the red, orange and green splashes on its curling surface. Maybe they should keep it, to brighten up their room. Nevermind Abbie's ideas, these are beautiful.

All of a sudden they sway, vision blurring and splitting in two. Woah. What the hell? What’s happening to them? They try to turn around but just end up falling.

Oh shit. Their vision’s darkening, they can’t even summon the energy to crawl anymore, and maybe, just maybe, this isn’t a result of anything they’ve done this time.

They barely have time to think that before everything disappears and consciousness leaves them.

_

Phoenix comes back to themself slowly. They’re not sure what happened… did they forget to eat again? Or… wait– no– fuck.

They snap their eyes open. They’re facing a metal ceiling, and there’s echoing footsteps on concrete, voices echoing too. A warehouse? Rough rope digs into their bare wrists and ankles, holding their arms spread. Someone’s taken most of their clothes, they’re only in a t-shirt and underwear now, and they shudder at the cold, damp air.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” calls a bald, gap-toothed man with a grin. “How are you feeling?”

They pull against the ropes but they won’t budge. “What do you want with me?”

“I want you dead. You powered people are an insult to humanity, and this city will be better off without you. Unfortunately I can’t kill you, but you were the easiest to get hold of and, heh, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s coming for you. What I can do is keep you here forever, or close enough.” He waves his hand and a man approaches with a hammer and a bag full of rusty nails. A woman comes from behind and holds Phoenix’s arm down.

And that’s when they really panic, throwing themself against the restraints with everything they have. If they don’t get out now, before those nails go in, they never will, no-one will look for them, and they scream and they thrash with no care as to what they’re doing, and then the first nail pierces their wrist and the screams for help turn to howls of agony. It hurts, god it hurts so much, and by the time their other wrist’s done they’re almost unconscious.

Someone slaps them on the cheek.

“Wakey, wakey. There’s still two more to go.”

Phoenix sobs, still trying to fight but every time they accidentally move their forearms the flesh and muscles and nerves rip a little more. Their feet are forced to either side and they scream as the nail’s driven into bone. Every tap of the hammer sends shocks through their feet, reverberating up their body. They notice vaguely as the rope’s untied and realise the nails are done. It still hurts too much to register properly.

“And up you go.”

Phoenix is on the move now. Their stomach churns and their head sways and they’re already nauseous from the pain, and they throw up down themself.

“Ugh. Disgusting. Well, we’ll be going now. Enjoy your time here and, heh, maybe someone will find you one day. Or maybe you’ll die eventually. Who knows? Maybe your immortality has a limit. Guess you’ll find out.”

As the small group walk away, some chuckling, Phoenix tries to glare but they don’t have the strength. It hurts so, so much. They try to look at something else, to distract themself, but all they can see is blank metal walls and concrete flooring. If they listen carefully they can hear the rhythmical drip... drip... drip... of a leaky pipe.

Maybe someone will come to fix that one day.

They smell drying puke and metallic blood and splinters are digging into their back. They’re going to be left here for good, no more grass, no more sky, no more stars, no more– no more anything. A tight, panicky feeling builds in their chest, iron bands constricting it. How long will they live for? Will they be here for eternity, stuck like this?

The pipe. Focus on the pipe. Drip... drip... drip... and then a pause. Drip... drip... drip... pause.

_

Drip... drip... drip... pause.

_

Occasionally it’s drip... drip... drip... drip... pause. Phoenix wonders if there’s any sort of pattern to it.

_

They take shallow, gasping breaths, trying to force as much air into their lungs as possible. Oh, God, they can’t breathe properly. There’s a vice inside them and it’s getting tighter and tighter, it just keeps constricting. They need to drop their arms to breathe but they can’t.

_

The nails. They’re trying to heal with them still in. They let out a small, breathless cry, unable to stop it, grateful at least that the skin can’t heal over.

_

They’re so tired. They try to keep their head up but they can’t, letting it drop to their chest, eyes closing, listening to the drip... drip... drip... pause, shivering. A hard shiver causes the nails to move, ripping more flesh and muscle, but they don’t have the energy to scream.

_

It’s not cold anymore. It’s not anything, they’re drifting, numb. No more pain. The warehouse is dark now. Are they even in the warehouse anymore? They’re slowing down and consciousness finally, finally leaves them.

_

Phoenix wakes up screaming. It takes a moment and then they remember where they are, what happened. Oh god, oh fuck, it feels like the nails have just been hammered in, it’s agony. Their jerking awake has ripped the nails through their wrists, through flesh they could’ve sworn was already torn and oh, god, their hands have sealed around the nails, they’re going to tear all over again, their feet too, it’s going to happen all over again. And again. And again, for the rest of their very long life.

Oh god.

They pull at the nails but they’re too weak, they can’t rip through them. They grit their teeth and try again, and this time they get forward slightly but the pain’s too much and they have to stop, have to, they can’t–

No. They can’t think that. That will make things ten times worse.

Focus on the dripping. Drip... drip... drip... pause... drip... drip... drip... pause.

Maybe they’ll die eventually.