REWRITTEN.
Violet had known pain. Had dealt with it all her life. She greeted it often with a familiar, outstretched hand.
Violet had grown up expecting pain.
It came, it went.
This, however, was torture.
She felt every second as the glass slowly tore down the inside of her throat, working it's way to her stomach, and she feared that she'd actually choke on her own blood if she passed out, which she was very close to doing with each shattering cough and rattling inhale that sent stabbing pains through her lungs.
Klaus was panicking, and unbeknownst to her so was the other brother in the room.
They could see her half lidded eyes were red, bloodshot, and every so often she'd cough and spit blood to the side, though most of it stained her front. Her skin had quickly turned ashen, almost like her cloaked form, but this was worse because she wasn't able to properly use her powers.
Every second she did her best to repair what was going on inside of her body. The glass would tear open new sections and weaken her further to the point where she could barely heal herself even a little bit afterwards, the bloodloss catching up to her far quicker than she'd have liked or expected.
This pain was never ending and she couldn't think.
She had to conserve energy but the stabbing pain tearing through her was enough to drive a person insane. It was inescapable, and the arms of the chair creaked under the pressure she was putting on them.
She didn't even care about the knife still in her hand. Not anymore. Because that pain didn't compare. That was miniscule in comparison.
She didn't understand the kidnappers plan; if they wanted her to talk she certainly couldn't manage it now, even if she could have before. If they'd have just taken her they would have grown tiresome from lack of results and probably killed her.
Klaus being there made things difficult - he was weak to the fact his little sister was being tortured in front of him and he could do nothing about it. He'd shed his own tears, shaking not because the drugs were wearing off but because he couldn't stand to be that powerless.
The two were soon dragged into the closet, chair digging into her side as she hunched over, unable to sit comfortably. She could barely keep her eyes open enough to recognise that they were being moved, or how much time had even passed. Tape covered both their mouths again and when darkness cloaked them she finally began to feel the overwhelming panic.
She faced a wide eyed Klaus and felt her chest tighten horrifically.
Her rasps were muffled and a blinding pain shot through her chest as tears clouded her vision and she could not stop herself from coughing on the blood in her throat. Metallic liquid filled her mouth and she grew frantic, yanking at the rope on her good hand. Klaus noticed her panic and only when the ghost of his brother quickly explained what was happening did he mirror her actions.
She tried pulling her lips apart to loosen the tape and thanked whatever god there was out there that the blood began to get rid of the tack, unsticking it slightly. She coughed, grimacing before leaning her head all the way down as far as she could, inching her tied hand closer to the edge of the tape.
She didn't care if she sprained her wrist from the angle she was trying to reach it at, she just had to get it off.
Her wrist burned with the effort and she could feel the agony in her body increasing, but finally she caught the edge of the tape between her fingertips and shakily tore it off.
Violet straightened, spluttering blood through her coughs at a traumatised Klaus who caught the brunt of it.
As she caught her breath through and the coughing slowed down, she almost apoligosed in her dazed state. What good would that do?
Slumped back, her eyes began to close despite the muffled yells of her brother right across from her. Too weak to even take full deep breaths, she gave in to the exhaustion wracking her body.
The sound of the vacuum cleaner didn't wake her, nor did Klauses muffled screaming and struggling. This had made him panic.
Violet looked dead in front of him and it made him feel sick.
The door to the closet was yanked open a couple hours later and the two were dragged out.
Violet's hair covered her face as she was partly slumped forwards. In and out of consciousness she faded, voices swirling around her so muffled she could barely tell who was talking or if what she was hearing was real or a dream.
Time became a whirlwind for Violet as she opened her eyes again, only this time the room was pitch black and the click of the bathroom door wakes her.
She could feel her heart beating worryingly slow inside her chest and struggled to keep her breathing even, every rise and fall of her chest agonising. Snapping herself out of her daze, or trying to, she lifted her head at the sound coming from outside the door.
Klaus shuffled his chair over to the little table by the door, unable to yell out because of the tape.
She flinched and clenched her fists when he slammed his forehead against the table to make noise that hopefully someone would hear, the knife still in her right hand making her fingers feel numb now. She watched his face screw up in pain, sweat beginning to drip from his brow with the effort.
Violet glanced wearily down at the knife still in her hand and swallows thickly, trying not to cough as it would only hurt. She still couldn't heal herself fully, so she was too weak to even try to make a sound or move.
The door finally cracked open and her eyes widened a fraction at the woman standing in the doorway, who looks more shocked at their appearance.
Klaus whimpered behind the tape as she immediatrly asked, "are you Diego's brother?"
He nodded rapidly and she worked fast to undo his tape and bindings. As he managed to scramble free, the woman spotted Violet sitting silently, covered in her own blood and unable to move, and her eyes widened.
She worked even quicker, apologising everytome she whimpered from pain from the jostling.
She opened her mouth to warn her, or try to, the word 'bathroom' dying in her throat as she coughed up blood into her hand. The only thing tethering her down became the knife impaled through her hand, but before she could address that they all heard the bathroom door creaking.
Klaus threw himself down by the vent.
Patch span round with a gun drawn imediately. "Police! Drop the gun or you're going down." She yelled.
Violet ducked low, fighting the urge to curl up and cover her ears like a child.
She heard a thud as a gun dropped to the floor.
She felt her chest constrict, the sight of the door open jolting her out of her daze. She hurriedly grabbed the knife in her hand and yanked it out. The pain made her dizzy but she worked hard to close up the wound as best she could.
She fell back against the side of the bed, clutching her hand to her chest, focusing through the drum of her heart beat.
"Hands behind your head, asshole." Patch demands.
Hazel obliged. "Just don't shoot."
Violet opened her eyes just in time to see a figures silhouette fill the open and forgotten doorway and couldn't even gather her thoughts properly before she ignored her pain and moved.
A single gunshot rang out as Violet shoved the woman out of the way. She went down, her head smacking off of the floor and lay there unmoving. The only sign she was alive was the slow rise and fall of her chest.
Violet stood in the centre of the room, feeling drastically cold all of a sudden. No words escaped her open mouth as she stared down at herself.
Blood blossomed from the wound in her chest rapidly as she shakily tried to cover it with her hands, her legs buckling. She only caught the wide eyes of the woman in the doorway before the floor rose up to meet her and everything became a blur.