Phantom

Chapter 2: History

5 years ago

Alison POV

I sat, strapped to the metal chair, panting and twitching from exhaustion and pain. Tears blurred my vision, but I knew, that right next to me was a table, on which lies the equipment that was used on me, multiple syringes filled with drugs that enhance sensitivity. To my left were bloody nails, fingers, limbs, multiple organs and chopped off heads. MY body parts. And in front of me, was a handsome man in his early 40s, the so called doctor, in the process of putting his hand through my cut open and bloody chest, just to ruthlessly pull out the madly beating heart. 

"UGH!"

He looks at it with a crazed glint in his eyes until it stopped beating. The blood flowing down his hands and dripping down onto the floor, he looks at me, stared at the now newly formed pale skin on my chest, and then looks me in the eye with a deranged smile. I felt fear running up and down my spine, shivers making my hair stand on end. I want to look away, but I can't, my head was strapped in place. My eyes widen as I watch him stare at me while taking a bite of the heart. Then he starts laughing, that crazy and deranged laugh that has haunted me for as long as I could remember. The fresh blood from the heart, coating his teeth a bloody red, flowing down his chin and staining the already bloody white coat. Yet he doesn't stop laughing. He stares at me with those crazed eyes, while he takes another mouthful. Every bite makes a disgusting, squelching and squishy sound that reverberates around the dark and cold room, all while staring at me. I could do nothing but stare at him in fear, shaking in the chair even more.

Once he finished, he walked up to the metal table and got another syringe filled with the drug, and once again injected it into my eye. I felt as the metal inside secreted a cold liquid, once again enhancing my senses. When the doctor pulled it out, red liquid danced across my vision until they settled, and slowly ran down my pail cheeks, mixing with the salty tears and dripping onto my chest continuing its way down, until it touches the rough fabric of the black loose pants, getting absorbed in the material. He grabbed the pliers off of the table, despite the dried up blood covering its surface, nothing could take my terror away as I stared at its cold surface. I started trembling even harder as it gets closer to me, as it opens its two pronged teeth, right in front of my eye. But I don't struggle. Because I know, that once I start struggling, then this torture would last even longer.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

The doctor mercilessly jammed the opened pliers into my left eye and closing it, but before he takes it out, he twists it inside, making squelching sounds as the blood splashes out, like a popped water balloon, getting some on his face and dripping into his bloody mouth. I scream even louder with my already hoarse voice, drool mixing with the iron blood and salty tears as it streamed down my face and falling onto my lap. With the enhancement of the drug, not only could I not faint, but the pain is 100 times worse than it was originally supposed to be. The twisting and turning of the plier continued, but I could feel him slowly taking it out, like a screw getting screwed out of it's place. I don't know how long it took for him to finally take the abominable thing away from me, but when he did, I didn't feel relieved. AT ALL. Because I knew, that every time a "round" ended, another was coming. The eyeball looked deformed, holes at its side, multiple veins and muscles were caught during the process, pulling that out. 

I was panting and crying and trembling, hoping for the day to be over so I can get my few hours of relief. I started choking on air, but the doctor didn't even spare me a glance. Why would he? He was staring at the eye in his hands with absolute disgust. It had a red pupil, with red veins extending outward, the sclera, which was supposed to be white was black. The complete opposite of  my right eye, which is a deep blue color and a white sclera. He hated that eye. Because it reminded him of the one flaw in his experiment. The limbs. The extra limbs that were made for brutal strength and speed. The limbs that he created by changing my DNA. They never came out. He never saw what the result of his second experiment was like. Because I never showed him. He thought he failed. But he didn't. I just chose not to show him because of what happened before. Before, when I showed him proof of his first successful experiment. When he brought another person in the room, telling me to use my shadows to kill her. I didn't want to do it. But I did anyways. Because I thought that if I did, then all of the needles would stop coming. They didn't stop.