Psychological Warfare

***It's time to bring this story back to life. Expect updates as well as one little change to chapter 11(?)***

Scout stared at the closed door where RED Soldier had left him. He had to get out of here. He had to escape. But he couldn't even walk.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't. The door stared at him. He stared at the door. The door began to blur. Scout could only hear his own painful breaths. Then that buzzing from before started up again. It was foggy, distorted. 

"Great job keeping your mouth shut and not complaining" Scout thought to himself, "Getting the shit beat out of you like a weakling."

An image flashed in his head. He was at home. He was eight and he'd been caught stealing food. His mom stood in front of him, shaking the frozen pizza at him and SCREAMING. He was crying. His brothers watched from behind her. Laughing. A criminal in his mother's eyes and "Frozen Pizza-Face Snatcher" to his brothers.

Then his father had beat him with his belt when he had gotten home. It had been good for him. Character can only be bloomed with blemishes. Remember you're all alone. Remember, you'll die young. dirt poor. and alone. always alone.

Scout lifted himself up painfully on his forearms and began to crawl. Each drag was agonizing. Pain and fire licked up his spine. He was not a whole person anymore - rather a rag doll that had been stitched up wrong.

He was almost to the door. It had to have been minutes, years, later.

About a foot away the door to the room opened all on its own.

He stared at the RED boots in front of him. Two pairs.

Looking up painfully, the image of RED Medic and RED Soldier swam in front of his face. One honestly looking bored and the other giddy as a soldier that'd won a war.

Scout made a mental note to spit in RED Soldiers big dumb face again when he got the chance. Maybe he'd make a ritual of it. Maybe he could get everyone in on it. Scout's pain-clouded mind imagined BLUs spitting on the retard wherever he went.

In a flash he realized RED Medic had injected him and the MediGun MediGunned his woes away.

Whatever they'd given him was way stronger than the last time. He felt light, fuzzy. What had he been trying to figure out earlier? Something about doors and corridors?

He was being dragged by his bound hands. He fixed his gaze on the red color of the wall. The wall began to bleed.

A heavy door slid open. He was thrown into the cell and simply lay there - dazed. He was looking at a BLU boot. When had that boot gotten there? Had it always been there? Was it his new God?

People were talking. He should be listening. He should be listening. He shouldn't be thinking so hard about how he should be listening. He should probably start listening.

"-GOTTS!" A throaty laugh  "SINCE YOU ALL DON'T SEEM TO HAVE ANY QUEEELMS ABOUT LOSING FINGERS..."

His leg was grabbed by hands unseen. Then a blossomming pain. Then a dull thudding. Scouts cheeks were cold. Was he crying? All of him was cold. Maybe he was dying.

Someone was screaming. 

The screaming only got louder.

He was in their old car being pushed into the ocean by his Father. He was tied up and left in his high school as his brother's pulled the fire alarm and the fire fighters were bursting into the stall. His mother was screaming -- She didn't seem to do much else... One of his big brothers was holding his hand against the oven burner, covering Scout's mouth. He was running in a battle. Chaos. His friends, loved ones, teammates, dying around him. Screaming. There was so much screaming.

The screaming stopped all at once.

Something was in his mouth. Scout spat it out in favor of panting. It was cold. He felt it burning him. Someone was over him, talking to him. He was held down.

The pain dulled raidly but never left. Something wasn't quite right. The boot in front of him was just a boot. Sitting there while he ebbed in the pain. There were people talking around him.

"Zer is no need for alarm! Zis is my own special concotion! He vill not bleed to deas."

People speaking in German. 

Why do the Germans always sound angry?

Was that BLU Heavy? He sounded PISSED when he spoke in German.

Someone lifted me up to prop me against a wall. I stared ahead of me at a peice of BLU clothing. I knew who wore that! That was BLU Spy's tie! 

I forced my eyes to lift higher. I locked eyes with him. He was looking right back at me. He didn't look concerned, just sort of stern like he was thinking about something I couldn't possibly comprehend. Such a smart man. I smiled for a second before I couldn't keep my eyes from drooping downwards. I saw the world shift sideways and felt someone catch me to lean me right side up again.

***MISSING CONTENT***

As I drifted off to sleep I noticed something strange...

Was I missing a God Damned foot?