Operation: Merciless

Chapter Two | The Room

~George's P.O.V~

George woke to the piercing sound of a blow horn. He groaned, groggily looking around the room. He quickly noticed it was an exact replica to his own room, minus the electronics. George licked his dry lips, picking up a small metallic taste, inspecting every corner for some kind of escape.

He was startled when the restraints were released, causing him to stumble to the ground, skinning his knees. He dusted off his pants, lifting himself off the floor. He let out a sigh, glaring around the room.

George walked over to his desk, opening the drawers. Not much was inside, just some art supplies and paper. George turned his gaze to his dresser, hoping there was something for him to wear. He opened a drawer and inside was a folded outfit.

George took out the shirt, shaking it out. On the front was labeled "404A". He turned it around, seeing the same words that he had been seeing. "Operation: Merciless". It was bright lime green.

He was about to put it back when he noticed a small smiley face on the shoulder, just like the one on the man's mask. George put it back, finding pants in the second drawer. On the side was the same label "404A"

Great, I'm just a number now...

George let out a huff of air. He walked over to the bed, inspecting it. It looked fine to him. He crawled in under the covers, curling himself into a ball, and hoped he would wake up and this would all just be one hell of a dream.

-

George wasn't able to sleep long when the blow horn sounded, startling him awake. He looked around in a panic. The speakers muffled. George heard the voice of The Dreamer.

"Listen carefully. When you hear that blow horn and you aren't at your stand, you go to your stand. Understand?" George shook his head, 'stand?'

There was a long sigh through the speaker. "Your restraints, go!" George shuffled quickly, terrified. He got onto the cross, situating his hands against the restraints while they quickly snapped back on, pinching his wrists. George pulled back in pain. He looked at his left wrist, seeing blood drip down. It had cut him.

George laid his head back, ignoring the pain in his wrist. The restraints were metal that snapped back into place. If anything happened to be in the way, it would cut, and it did. He had to be more careful if he wanted to avoid this later.

He rested his body against the wood as far from the metal restraints as possible. As he laid back, they readjusted, immediately tightening around his wrist. He flinched and bit his lip as it tightened around his fresh wound. George's anxiety was getting the best of him as he chewed his lip. When he got nervous he would chew his lip.

George sighed, letting his head fall to try to ignore the pain that he was going through. Not just in his wrist, but in his shoulder, as it wasn't exactly in a good position for someone who had been shot.

George shot his head up as he heard the doors being unlocked. In walked a hooded man. He had a lime green hoodie, splattered with specks of blood. A circular disc covered his face, decorated with a hollow smile. He guessed that it had once been purely white, but it seemed dusty and stained with scarlet.

Dreamer turned towards George, leaning on the door with his ankles crossed. "Usually, I don't visit my subjects. But you... you interest me."

The killer approached slowly, causing George to try to move which didn't do anything, just made the pain worse.

The Dreamer shook his head, chuckling. "You're already hurt enough, don't be like that." George turned his head away only for it to be pulled back violently by Dreamer.