Alienated

Pain

Rose

I don't know what happened in that room. I don't want to know what happened in that room. When I was conscious again, I was back in the white room with new clothing and small pin pricks on my arm. I can only assume that pricks were where they injected me, took my blood and did other sorts of horrid things to me. Every two days I would be taken back to the laboratory and tested on. They now knock me out before leaving my room, probably learned from the first time and every time I wake up, there's a new scar or mark on my body. For example, the precise cut that goes up my right calf, or the two scars on top of each lung, or the one dangerously close to my neck, near my collarbone. The list goes on. There was even a time when I woke up and couldn't move the bottom half of my body without causing so much agony that I'd scream myself hoarse. One of the nurses mentioned, an hour after I woke up and started screaming, that they had accidentally damaged a nerve and to not worry as some of their technology was fixing it. Although it did partially cause the pain to stop, whenever I move I get a small but acute pain in my lower back. It's been twelve days since I was first taken to the lab and today I was expecting to go again. I've always been unconscious when they tested me and I've been grateful; today was different.

When the doctors came to get me, I noticed that there were a lot more guards and less liquid in the syringe. Warning bells rang in my head and I felt my breathing become heavy. This was not a good sign. I felt the small prick of the needle in my neck before they fluid spread through my veins and I collapsed. When I woke, I was in an unfamiliar place and bound to a cold metal chair. My arms and legs were tied with chains. The room was dimly lit and a rusty brown colour. Probably a basement. There was a strong scent of metal and salt which I realise is probably blood. My breathing comes in short gasps as I hear a door open and four people walk in. One of them was Doctor Jabez, wearing the same suit he always does and a nurse stood beside him. When my attention is drawn to the other two men in the room my eyes widen. They were Mutes. One of them had their mouth sewn whilst the other didn't. The un-sewn Mute stood by a table to the right of me although I didn't see what's on it. I struggle against the restraints begging them to let me go. When seeing me struggle, I noticed a glint of satisfaction in the Doctor's eye and it terrified me.

"This test will be different from the others," he began, his voice echoing around the room, "we've looked at your anatomy. Made you more powerful in a way but in these sessions, we want to improve you psychologically as well as see your pain levels." He laughed in my face as he called the un-sewn Mute forward with the table. I force myself not to scream as I realise what was on it. There was an array of weapons and torture devices. They were going to torture me to see if I can handle pain. I struggled harder before I'm forced to sit still. I see the sewn-Mute staring at me in concentration with his hand towards me. The telekinetic is holding me down and the doctor is still laughing. He's taking pleasure in my pain. I gasp when something sharp slices across my left arm. I look over to see the open-mouthed Mute with a knife. He lifts it up and starts slicing at my body. It's excruciating. I closed my eyes and started screaming. Each new form of torture left me feeling like I was coming closer and closer to death, and this was just an experiment. The shearing pain felt like someone was destroying each nerve one by one and then fixing them just to do it again, much like a child playing with a tower they'd built. Blood was pouring from every cut on my body and soon I was too tired to do anything. Too tired to scream. Too tired to beg. Too tired. 

It's been two hours of torture when they'd finished. Well, two hours when I passed out. For all I know, they could've done it for longer. When I woke up, there was a machine hooked up to me that slightly numbed the pain and started to heal me. I could see each cut disappear as they're replaced by raw skin. There was still a dull pain but it seemed to buzz. I glared at the machine. It was a clear sign that the insane people here were going to torture me again or even do worse things to me, and they weren't going to stop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello readers,

Sorry, this chapter's a little late but I've been really busy with school and all that. Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I'm not really sure how the whole Trigger Warning thing works or if this needed one. If it does, please tell me in the comments because I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable because of something I wrote.

QotC: Choose a relationship... (Same question as last week because no one voted)

Brother, father, step-brother?

Don't forget to vote for one!

Thanks, guys!

Tasha <3

P.S. Don't forget to vote/comment what you like about the story or what you don't like so that I can evaluate and change some things in the next chapters. Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Thanks, guys!