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The Cut : Joanna

"The burn of the flame is more painful than the cold of a blade. But when unwanted, even the tiniest slice is agony."

Pain.

This place held nothing but pain and agony. My mouth had been forced shut by Thomas' soft, if not very sweaty hand as he opened the door to this room. As soon as the door slid open for us, all I could hear was piercing screams and the sound of mechanical whirring and grinding. My nose caught the instant scent of barbecued meat, but my developed brain would not allow me the illusion that the scientists were having a cookout.

"This place..." Thomas looked sick to his stomach, his mocha skin turning a dark shade of green and pouring buckets of sweat. The kindness that I had felt from him before was increased tenfold now, it was clear that he didn't want to be here, and that he didn't want me to be here either. I removed his dampened hand from my mouth and decided to speak.

"Why did you bring me here?" I asked, allowing myself as calm an attitude as I could manage with the sounds of screaming deafening my ears. He looked sheepish at that for a split second, before returning to looking ill.

"Everyone is going to have to come to this room at some point to test their regenerative properties. You are also scheduled for this room soon... and I don't wish for you to be afraid, but something needs to be done." His voice was getting stronger, as if he were truly assured that he was doing the right thing by showing me this right now. I wasn't so sure that he was. Considering the traumatic screaming and smells my senses were currently being assaulted with.

" They won't explain the process to you, they'll just cut away and do their job. But you are one of the special ones, I don't want them to break you." I couldn't help but feel my brows furrow as he talked, knowing that calling me special wasn't as endearing as he had probably meant it to be. Special here only meant more testing, and apparently, more cutting.

"Then explain." He seemed to have followed my words like a command, as if he had been waiting for me to give the okay. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me along, though he seemed to have to give it a bit of effort for the first pull. We were very similar in height, though his musculature wasn't as lacking as mine still was. I liked to think that he simply didn't wish to seem like he was forcing me to look at this place, but in all honesty, I didn't have much of a choice here regardless of the one that was presented.

"The K-80Y serum shifted everybody's molecular structure to the point of such enhancement that you are supposed to be able to regenerate yourself if you incur any wounds... in order to make sure everyone is taking to the serum, we test the different aspects of your abilities. The other Physical Therapists like me make sure your body becomes strong and comfortable, the Psychiatrists make sure your mental health is manageable... and these scientists... Cut." He guided me around the perimeter, keeping me out of the other's scientist's sight.

"So... this is just their job." I reasoned aloud, wincing slightly at the sight I could now fully appreciate for every visceral detail.

Each subject was strapped down onto a slab, but there were different wounds on each. A woman here with the flesh of her leg stripped, her muscles and sinew exposed to the air. A man there with what looked like a terribly nasty broken arm, bone splintered and shattered through the skin and bleeding profusely. One persons face was missing a nose and their eyes... The smell of urine and waste wafted through the saline-scented air, the pain obviously too much once certain subjects passed out, but the doctors had prepped syringes of amber liquid one could only assume was adrenaline to keep them awake and alert. As horrifying as is was to see, all I could do was watch as closely as I could, seeing that the torn flesh had started healing itself. It was still repairing itself slowly, but compared to basic human healing, this was a massive breakthrough. In real time, I could see the jelly-like fluid filling a punctured eyeball. As it was repairing itself, the shattered eye socket was regenerating tiny pieces of bone shard by shard.

"Why don't they put them to sleep before testing? If anything, their bodies would heal better while they were under anesthesia." I ask, turning my attention back to something a bit less... medical mystery. Thomas shook his head, meeting my eyes to avoid looking at the other's. It was clear how uncomfortable he was here, but it was also clear that he was trying to hold himself together.

"Those trials are already done. Everyone needs to be awake now, to see how they fare when they aren't being assisted by their body's natural means of healing. The step after this will be seeing how well they can function with such severe injuries." He responded uneasily, his hand on his stomach as he forced his lunch to remain in his stomach where it belonged. I could only assume that the functioning part of these exercises was to make sure that whatever they were sent out to do, it would get done no matter what kind of hostile environment they were thrust into. I couldn't help a sharp pang of worry settling in my stomach at the possibility of this amount of pain during a mission... doing whatever it is we were built to be doing.

"I have never gone through this treatment. You have never brought me here." I had made the statement with utmost certainty, but just as soon as the words left my lips, I felt them hang lifelessly in the air as lies.

"You were heavily sedated, just like everyone else. But... your wounds... were not made so severe... nor visible." He touched a place on my back and pressed lightly, and my body quickly processed the slight numbness there. There was scar tissue there, but it didn't feel as fresh as it obviously should have.

"Why was my treatment different?" I asked, wondering if I had already guessed the answer.

"You and several others were spared these difficult tests... but your Doctor requested that you watch the process the others are made to go through. He may ask you about this later, and whatever your thoughts on the procedure...' he paused and looked onward at the other scientists, their drills and scapels digging and cutting away the tissue and bones of their prized experiments, 'You need to tell him that this procedure is barbaric."

I had to stop my gaze on the scientists at work and stared at Thomas, slightly shocked to hear him say what he had. He should know by now that I was basically genetically reprogrammed to be loyal to this facility and its inhabitants... regardless of my opinions about this particular place, I had to continue with the testing. The testing, the preparation, the experiements... I had spent so long in a tube, unable to speak and voice my thoughts. I had spent years laid bare before dozens of uncaring scientific eyes to become something new.

"If this is how the serum's effects were chosen to be tested, then it was probably the one that the Doctor deemed least likely to destroy his subjects. He wouldn't hurt us for fun, Thomas." Was all I could think to say to him. As scary as this procedure was, how else could they test our self-healing abilities? At the very least, these wounds could be kept under watch in case something went wrong. As frightening and painful as it was, this experiment was for the good of the serum. It was probably the most humane way they could do this... though the process made me want to throw up slightly.

Thomas looked mortified, his dark eyes looking me up and down with something different than he ever had before. Fear?

" You are supposed to be special. You are always thinking and learning more about this place like the other one, you..." He seemed to argue a point under his breath and to himself, his eyes going a bit wild and his complexion seeming to see with fresh sweat, but I couldn't decipher his resonings through the muttering. I reached out to him, hoping to calm him with a pat on the shoulder or something similar, but he quickly slapped my hand away, the expression of fear changing sharply into disgust. I had upset him.

" You need to get to the therapy wing, now. I need to make myself useful elsewhere, so escort yourself." Before I could speak, his voice seemed to boom around me, though he couldn't have spoken any louder than he had previously. I felt myself stiffen at his words, standing up straight, which only made his face pinch up even worse.

"That's an order."