The Humanization Process.

Chapter 1.

One moment he was there and the next, he was suffocating under the weight of the agonizing darkness. What he didn't know was whether it was the darkness that seared its painful hold into his skin, or were the mutts' claws still shredding him to fine lines of skin and flesh... An eerie freshness began emerging through the wounds and covering them like an acrid blanket, soon they began to pulse harder, almost throwing sparks at the brusque invasion... and the shaking began. It was like lava had been seeped into his flesh, it sucked the entire warmth in his body and concentrated solely on his irritated parts, they burned and released smoke, almost as toxic as the disgusting liquid but instead it penetrated his lungs like a boiling tasteless soup and choked him to the point of losing consciousness.

He was convinced he was dead… strong pain in the head had followed the sea of claws and everything went completely black. Completely quiet. He couldn’t even feel his heartbeat anymore, it was like he had ceased to exist. That easy… 

Pain. Odd quivering accompanied the previous dead stillness of his eyelids… He could see the red flesh on the inside, penetrated by something… light… turning it into a strong red. Slowly, he opened his eyes to almost immediately close them again. The dryness covered his eyeballs like a sticky desert… or maybe it was the piercing pale light that convinced him to sink back into the darkness… 

He spent another five minutes  trying to get used to the strong illumination. White. Everything was completely white and sterile and smelled of cleaning chemicals. He tried to move but something was holding him down and his limbs didn’t respond correctly to all of his movements. Soon, a small layer of sweat had formed on his forehead as he continued trying to regain control of his body and with this, his impatience arose. Was he dead? Was this… hell? Because he knew he was definitely not heaven material… 

The door at the end of the room swung open and more people dressed in white filed in. They looked normal… no, they looked like doctors. Confusion gave birth to more and more throbbing in his head, he couldn’t move his hand to rub it either… he was completely immobilized and as his thoughts became clearer, he realized he was tied to the bed. This must be hell, he thought… and his worst nightmare. He hated hospitals more than anything and this chocking scent of chemicals... it burned his throat. “Where am I? What’s this?” He croaked, his voice gurgling low in his throat, cutting through it like a ball of razors… But the people in white didn’t answer. They didn’t even look at him. Their hands roamed all over his body, his head mostly, their fingers sliding down his skin and through his hair… They yanked his head left and right gently, looking at something. Flash lights penetrated his irises and for the first time they were truly looking at him. “Where am I? What are you doing to me?!” His voice carried a note of desperation, his eyes began widening and concentrating on their faces… He could barely perceive any distinctive features besides wrinkles and white hair, his vision pulsed in an irritating blur… “ANSWER MY QUESTION!” He thought he had shouted but his voice came out weak again, just slightly louder than before… and his throat was on fire, it throbbed agonizingly, as if he had downed a shot of acid. “Water…” He muttered as he watched a young woman with red hair and thickly framed glasses inject something into the tube connected to his arm… and before he could ask what that was, immense exhaustion crushed him and his eyelids fell over his eyes like thick curtains… and everything went dark again. 

***

The same room appeared in front of him, he felt like he had awaken from eternal slumber but he knew it had been just a few hours, not even a day had passed. But this time he wasn't alone. The same redhead was sitting on a chair right next to his bed, reading something… She hadn't noticed he was awake because he didn’t move nor say anything to get her attention. She looked quite young compared to the other doctors… or as much as he could remember about them. “Where am I…” He asked again but his tone was a pleading one this time… Maybe if she felt sorry for him, she would finally tell him where he was.