𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐑𝐄 , nightwing

009 phone call.

𝐌𝐘 body felt like it was two seconds away from caving in on itself. Walking over to the bathroom door, I shut it and swiftly pressed my back up against it. An exhausted sigh fell from my lips as I closed my eyes tightly, as if to try and block out any form of light, and I began to slide, descending slowly down the door until I sat on the floor with my knees tucked closely into my chest.

"Holy fuck." I murmured to myself. "What is happening to me? I know I don't remember much but I'm fairly certain this shit isn't normal." I groaned and fought back tears pooling and lacing my eyes like a gloss over my vision as I inhaled deeply and lent my head against the door behind me, my eyelids finding some comfort in resting compared to the waking agony of every moment.

I fumbled on my feet, clawing at the walls as I made my way back into the kitchen and began frantically searching for the knife block. Pulling out one I deemed sharp enough to slice but not sharp enough to maim, all of course depending on the heaviness of my hand, I lowered it to slice the back of my arm and cut moderately deep.

Hissing, I waited for blood to pool and begin trickling down my arm, dropping off and pooling on the floor. "Come on, come on!" I impatiently rose my voice, seething through the pain as minutes passed and the hope of my arm moulding back together, the skin bonding back into one uncut, it instead lay sliced firmly open, the layers torn apart and now heavily bleeding. "Fuck." I muttered.

"So, test number one has failed." I muttered to myself, heading to the oven and turning it on. "Test number two, a burn." Sighing, I waited for the stove to heat up. "I'm going to be really pissed if none of these work and I'm left in bits and pieces."

Slowly lowering my hand on the red rings of pooling heat, reaching out to me, I began to get used to the growing pains everywhere. Blanking out, I get my mind slip and loose all sorts of focus as memories flickered at the back of my mind like lost words on my tongue.

"Test number three hundred and fifty six, using methods of burning and acid to test resilience and self-healing." A solemn man with a sadistic smirk peered over a check board clipped full with paper work.

He had the sort of looks that you wouldn't expect from someone in a job like torturing people in labs and human experimentation. While you'd expect ashen greyed hair, paedophilic tendencies, short and an older age with mortifying nose hairs tickling his upper lip; instead he had deep chocolate brown hair swept neatly to the side with a curl, couldn't be any older than his late twenties, and had a soft face, with a sharp jawline, yet the coldness in it wasn't missed, piercing iced blue eyes that glared through you.

No one that young would take a job like that without some clear issues, and with his strange attractiveness in both his youth and bitter personality, he could have easily gone for another career than the one that left him smirking down at me like a sick fuck filing away my torture like I was an animal or just a number to be recorded and forgotten.

A group of masked men then surrounded me like a caged animal, gaping and waiting for something to happen like I was about to blow up or fucking fly through the ceiling. However, they all took precaution to keep their distance, either too disgusted with me or not comfortable with blowing up and being taken down with me if all this shit went wrong.

My vision was only partially there, blackened dots covering parts of all I could see as everything came in a haze like a blurred dream, or should I say, nightmare. I felt the digging in my wrists, ankles, neck and waist as I was trapped unmovable in a metal contraption like it came straight from the fucking saw movies.

I didn't dare tug or pull or even try to break free as not only was metal-bending not known to be in my abilities as far as I knew, but something inside me kept me frozen, like all my fight had been worn away over my time in here and my will to live was ripped right from under me.