Saturation

Eye For An Eye

Pitch black darkness.

That's all that engulfs the small, cold room. There's a minuscule shred of light illuminating from a hole in a corner. The man lay there, trying to look at the light, believing that it contains all the hope he has. Oh, how he couldn't be more mistaken.

He's been trapped, kept in place with leather straps as he lies on the cold steel of the operating table. His heavy breathing becoming similar to a sense of hyperventilating. Amusing, really.

Derek walks down from upstairs, opening the heavy door to the pitch black room, chuckling lightly under his breath.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" He lets out a demented laugh as he flips on a dingy light that dangles from above the table. "Another fucking guy who thought he'd get away with hurting her, huh? With hurting my fucking Chloe?! I'll make you pay, bitch, don't you worry..oh, you'll never lay your fucking eyes on her again."

The man strapped down to the table screams out, beginning to cry and beg, pleading for his captor to release him, screaming for his life. His screams are muffled and unable to escape due to the soundproof walls of the room.

"I'll never touch her again, I swear! I won't lay eyes on her! I'll never touch another woman as long as I live, just please! Please! Let me go!"

Derek's laugh grows louder. His eyes widen and a devilish smile stretches the span of his face.

"Oh, poor soul..I can't just let you go? Do you know how risky that would be? But, I do know this. I know..that you'll never touch her again. You'll never violate her body with your toxic eyes, you'll never breathe another gasp of air in her direction with your wretched breath! Because you know what?" He leans down, whispering into his hostages ear, "This is the last place, you'll ever get a breath of air. And my face?" He chuckles out, "My fucking face is the last thing you'll ever have the honor of seeing!"

Derek makes his way over to a tray on the other side of the room and grabs an evisceration spoon, a pair of wire eye speculums, a surgical scalpel, and a pair of Chalazion forceps first.

"Ah, these ought to do just fine. What do you think, Mr. Eyeball? Hm?" He lets out a sadistic laugh. "Are you ready to be plucked like a worm, set free from that putrid and hideous skull?!"

The victim screams out, crying, thrashing, closing his eyes as tightly as he can as Derek makes his way back over to the table with a black Balans kneeling chair. The victim attempts to break free, but to no avail. Derek leans over the man again, tightening the restraints and adding some across his head, joints, and torso in order to keep him as still as possible for the coming "procedure."