when y/n was young, she had been born into a family of renowned devil hunters. unlike most, she lived in a tribe, not a city. she didn't go to school, but instead studied under the tribes monks. from the moment she could walk she was conditioned to...
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❞⁀➷♡'ˎ˗ "do your job or else.... that will be you."
when you opened your eyes that morning, you couldn't see anything. it was a bit like you were blindfolded.
your vision was tinted by something on your face, it was a thin white veneer. you shifted your arms to uncover your face, but they were bound to the bed. the bed was also metal and your attire felt unfamiliar. speaking of unfamiliar, a voice rang in your ears as someone spoke. you then realized that you were in a room, surrounded by a group of people.
"her dna matches the left arm sample from the truck accident site."
"yep, it's a demi-human." left arm sample? "let's get on with it." suddenly, like bells ringing in your head. you remembered eyeing the destroyed phone as you walked away from the street where the truck had run you over. your hand had been holding the phone on the floor because your arm came off when the truck hit. fuck, fuck, fuck! how could i forget something so important?! have i been caught? you thrashed on the bed, but your body was bound by every joint to the table. you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing could come out. you could only pant for air as you grew desperate and confused.
"nh.. nh!"
i can't talk?! this isn't at all like a sore throat.. your eyes blearily widened from under the cloth blinding your eyes. they severed my vocal cords! you could only make tiny sounds of muffled discomfort as white hot pain shot through your left arm. the scientists sawed the arm clean off, you could only tell from the ghost pain of missing the arm and the faint sounds of blood dripping onto tiled floor. you thrashed and cried, but no sound followed and you could barely move against the cuffs.
"send this to mister iwasaki. to compare with the original." the scientist passed off your arm as you heaved and sighed, relieved that they were done with that arm at least. your body trembled and shuddered against the table. "as we monitor it's brain activity next." your blood oozed from the table into drops on the floor.
it's?
they pulled your middle finger from your clenched fist on the other side of the table, your hands shaking from the mind boggling pain in your left arm. well, what was left of it anyway. "one at a time." you felt cool metal gently clamp down on your finger. "got it." you gasped in pain as a snip sound met your ears. they cut your finger off and your back arched as you gasped, unable to make a sound as tears and sweat dampened the bandages wrapped around your face. "we can guesstimate how often it's died by its reaction to pain." your toes curled, four more snips following inbetween each word they said. you could barely hear them, though. it felt like you were underwater.
a scratch scraped against the glass of the viewing room from inside. the scientist who had just put the scissors away turned to face it as he heard the sound "what's wrong?" a glitchy voice came from the speakers of the room, someone in the viewing room. "um... did that glass... always have those scratches?" he asked, nervously. "it did. is that a problem?" he relaxed, swallowing thickly. "i see. sorry for asking."
