"It's a place for the medically ill, a bunch of lunatics."
"How could you call these human beings lunatics?"
"Excuse me,
The insane."
Kim Namjoon. Patient #22
Crime: Murder
BTS HORROR AU
3.3.19 70th in #btshorror
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Patient #21, you do realize what you've done, right?
"Oh, suck a cock, doctor. It's not my fault that my taste buds are better than the cafeteria cooks."
There was no response. Which only made him more anxious. He tried to stay calm, just to make the pain less painful, but deep down he was experimenting a different type of anxiety than before.
I have a new weapon I want use on you. Having all of these materials and medications really help expand my imagination.
The doctor said while opening a cabinet of bottles, syringes, weapons, whips, and more. The doctor had grey hair, tall, and a monocle.
This medication will help your insanity. After this, you'll feel stress leave your body and a sense of euphoria enlighten your System.
He wore gloves that held white powder - some in his right hand and a small bottle of yellow-ish liquid in the other hand. He turned around and faced the patient, strapped down under beating white light.
You know the routine.
"God dammit! Let me go! Please don't do this to me! Please..." The man in the chair cried out, no longer holding back tears, sweat began to trickle down his forehead and in other spots.
Crying won't do you anything, you should know that, especially being a man.
The doctor slowly walked his way towards the scared man. Even though his arm was twisted and restrained against the chair arm, the doctor pulled it hard, ripping his dry skin. Taking the powder out onto his closed finger tips, he dusted it onto the patient's revealed wrist. Slowly and steadily until it covered most of his hand and lower arm, all the powder on.
Tears fell down his cheeks, he didn't know what was to come. He was beyond sick of being here, all of his emotions of hate and depression welled up into this very punishment.
Then mid way of his thought, he noticed the doctor unscrewing the lid of the tiny bottle.
Without warning, he poured it all onto his pale hand, to wrist.
It began to smoke. Steam, pop, crackle, burn, light.
Within a millisecond, the man began to scream, his eyes and mouth widening to its widest extent. He cried things unheard of, things no one would understand. Tears were definitely visible now.
"You- sick son of a bastard-!"
"Make it stop! Please, I'm begging you, I'll eat whatever the cafeteria offers, even if it's vomit! God please forgive me-"
The shrieking became louder and louder, patients outside of the room could possibly hear. He banged his head over and over into the cushion of the chair.
His arm was completely red, the powder carving brown holes into his skin, bleeding. The burning didn't stop, nor did the tiny trails of blood traveling from his arm to the floor.
I hope you reflect on this.
Like that, the doctor poured cold water over his arm. It didn't heal the steaming that much, but it stopped the act of deceasing his arm.
The patient let out one last yelp, throwing his head back into the chair, shutting his eyes and holding his breath. He puffed out a final "fuck" before falling asleep into the chair.
Unstrapping the arms and legs of the man, he laid there as if life had been sucked right out of him. Leaning down to touch his burnt arm, he kissed his hand that almost was drenched in blood.
These nice, lean arms. One down, the other left to go. They look so beautiful as they are, but I'll paint them red to make them look even prettier.
Even with the patient asleep, the doctor pulled out another small bottle of yellow-ish liquid and powder - starting the same cycle on the other arm.
