Novocaine

welcome to the listing

He had undergone four listings since he had arrived at the Murge. The first listing he had gone through was the first week after he was settled in his own sanctuary. He had been laying on his bed, eyes dropping and back aching, his hands seemed to have been rubbed raw and he constantly picked at the blisters that popped up around his wrists like bulging veins, it had irked him how his hands prickled with pain, how the rope around his wrists were now replaced with rashes that splotched his skin with shades of pinks, reds and slight orange. The bruises he'd received from his first treatment dotted around his arms and legs, several splayed over his chest and shoulders and one balanced on the crook on his neck, where the needle had been inserted.

He groaned and buried his head deeper into the lone mattress in the middle of his room.

He punched the pillow in frustration of not being able to fall into the darkness of sleep and forget what the day had been, unfortunately for him, he wasn't going to have none of that. He was close to falling asleep, he could feel the clutches of it harnessing over him like a promise, he let it and relaxed against the pain everywhere, an explosion of colours erupted in the corner of his vision and he followed it like a moth to the light. He was mesmerised by it, by the vibrancy, the shadows, the difference. He loved the differences, it was a refreshing sight from the blinding amount of white he'd already seen. He reached out to catch the orb of colours when he was suddenly pulled out of it like a daydream.

He sat up surprised, his eyes darted from corner to corner of his room, he heard footsteps pounding outside the solitude of his room and thought for a second that it was his chance to return home, he'd already had enough of the place, another minute would drive him insane with the formality, the monotonous colour and the treatments. The door to his room was pushed opened and a lady dressed in black smiled softly at him, though the light shadowed her and made her smile look murderous, he found himself standing up, his right arm came up and was pressed to his heart, while his left arm went behind his back and dug into the space below his right shoulder blade. His hands fisted.

"Hello," the woman said, her tone soft with the underlying sense that she could chop him into the smallest of pieces with his own painted nails. "I do apologise for the intrusion, but I do not believe we have been made acquaintances yet, my name is Anna Martin, I am one of the head directors within the Murge."

She had moved to stand away from the entrance, the light fell off her face to reveal a soft featured woman with doe eyes that looked innocent but the shade of blue her eyes were ruined it with their cruelty. Her eyes weren't the first thing he noticed though, it wasn't necessarily important how his attention was diverted from whom this woman to how small she is when he was stood almost face-to-face her. However the first comment  that popped into his head was: Oh man, suspicion wrapped up in a short stature, brilliant.

It was true, she seemed taller when she stood by his door and he was about to pass out on his mattress, he had to hand it to her, she didn't let her height seem like a weakness with her clipped tone. "Five-oh-four are you responsive?" she asked. He nodded and let his arms hang by his sides when she gave him a quick nod, a gesture he had been informed was an alternative way of saying 'at ease', he wasn't sure why they simply couldn't utter two words with less that four syllables. Laziness perhaps? "There will be a listing in a short amount of time and I haven't the patience to explain the entire procedure, however what I will tell you is that you must, at all times, allow the Receivers to do their own jobs, as odd as it may seem to you."

He had raised his eyebrow at that and sent her a cynical look. "Five-oh-Four?" his chest rumble when he spoke his thought out loud, it burned to feel his vocal cords play the tune of his voice but it was nothing compared to his neck. It was like someone sent a dozen fire ants to nip and bite at his skin. "Yes, ma'am," he ended.