Dissociative Psyche ✦ J. Riley | ✓ [book 2]

Prologue

The room was quiet, all except for the drip, drip, drip of the leaky faucet. The boy, no younger than twenty, was breathing heavily, heart rate elevated to the extreme.l He couldn't speak, he couldn't cry for help... then again, how could he? He had duct tape slapped across his mouth. The cuffs around his ankle was starting to burn, the sweat he emitted soaked into his shirt, and his skin was burning from the blisters and callouses he developed trying to pull off his shackles. 

How did he get into this situation? The last thing he remembered was buying a pack of cigarettes at the corner store... then a man? He was older, a white guy, and he seemed so nice. Did he knock him over the head?

Apparently so. The metal door squealed horrifically as it opened, and in stepped the man. He held a briefcase in his hand, and a jacket in the other. The boy watched him with tentative eyes, mind racing with just what might be in that briefcase. Did he plan to torture him? Hack him into steaks? Kill him?

"You don't have to worry," he spoke, "I'm not here to kill you," he set the briefcase on a rickety wooden work bench and clicked it open. The boy was sat on the ground, he couldn't see what was in the briefcase. The man then smiled at him, like a genuine smile, as if he was promising him that everything was going to be okay. 

He then took out a syringe.

The boy started to shake, his impending fear of needles began to overtake him as the man got closer. But he couldn't get away, no matter how far he tried to crawl away or how deeply his shrivelled nails dug into the ground. The man grabbed him by the shirt and threw him down in the corner.

"This is not going to kill you, son," he said, "But I'm not going to lie, it will hurt," he then held him by his head and plunged the needle behind his ear, sending a moan of agony from the crying boy.