Hopeless

Afraid

Damien then smiled a wry smile, in agony and pleasure. His eyes rolled back into his head with gratitude and he lay against a padded wall. He lifted his hands to his throat and felt the strings on his neck. His face dropped from a smile, to a horrified shock and woe. He realized if he were to survive this, he would never be able to speak again. He poundered this thought for a while, but just before he could calm himself, he noticed a faint green gas leaking into the room. Damien figured he was hallucinating, but the gas was real. He then began to cough violently, and nauseating. His vision blurred and his head swayed, jerking forward and back, back and forward. Swaying and swaying, and then, nothing but blackness.
Some hours later, he woke up on a - surgical surgical table. Bare naked with only small, linen cloth covering his privates. Damien realized he was leather strapped down to the cold, metal table, and the straps bored ibti into his flesh, leaving red burn marks. Damien heard the sound of a heart monitor tracking his breathing. He broke out into a cold, calling sweat, and his breathing increased and quickened. The surgical light was bright and harsh, blinding light, piercing his eyes like a razor sharp needle. Damien then heard a door creak open slowly, and a tall, slender man entered the room. The man was dressed in a surgical outfit with all of it being dark green. He pushed in a rusty rolling tray with surgical utensils on it.