The Victim

 "Can you hear that?" I whispered to him. My voice was raspy, and I could barely be heard. My body started to shake violently, the chains at my ankles and wrists clanked and rattled painfully against my skin. I felt him embrace me in a warm hug, trying to calm me down.

 

There was a scream. It pierced the eery calm with a dagger. I shut my eyes, and if I wasn't chained to the wall I would have covered my ears with my hands. He held me tighter, as he was not chained he could do little things like that. I envied him for it. The scream increased in volume, it was an odd sounding scream. Garbled, panicked, and strained all at the same time. 

If I were to describe it, I would say that it was like if you submerged a dying cat into a pool of water. Then you began to pull off it's toes. One by one, piece by piece, slowly, as if you savored every bit of it's pain. And watched as new red fresh blood oozed out of the wound and flowed into the once clear water.

 

"What," He asked "the scream?"

"No"

 

I could picture it in my mind. Exactly as it was going to happen. The victim, after being chained to the wall of this very exact room, would be taken away and strapped onto a cold, hard table. They would be strapped down with cold metal restraints, at the ankles, wrists, and upper torso. The restraints would be so tight that the jabbed into the victim painfully if the wriggled, or struggled against them. The room was completely white, almost painful to look at after being stuck in a room with not even a crack of light. And the victim would be screaming. 

Then a figure would walk into the room, and slowly toward the victim. There would be a syringe in the figure's right hand, it would be full of a strange clear colored liquid. The victim's eyes would widen as the figure stepped towards them, with the syringe in hand. They would struggle violently against the bonds, scream with with fear, horror, and desperation. Then the figure would inject the strange, jello-like substance into the victim's arm. The victim would scream from the pain of having the thick- jello-substance slowly put into their bloodstream. Then their eyes would roll into the back of their head, they would be quiet. And the eerily calm silence would be restored.

 

I opened my eyes and looked at his face. His worried, concerned, scared face, his eyes that were full of nothing but love for me. He was free, he could be anywhere else, but he had chosen to stay with me, He'd never have to endure what I would go through.

"Then.... what do you hear?" He asked me.

"Sh. There it is again."

 

The figure would then cut open the victim's stomach. Their skin would tear easily, like paper. Then the blood would flow slowly from the wound. The figure would smile creepily as they continued with their work. The victim could not feel their internal organs being ripped out of their body, they could not see the figure handle them so roughly. THen the figure would wait and see.

 

"I'm not going to scream..." I said quietly, more to myself then to him.

"What?"

 

The figure would begin to grow excited as the tissue repaired itself. As the victim unconsciously grew back what had been pulled out. The victim's insides bubble furiously and their skin would repair itself. The figure relaxed, this was it, the solution.

 

"I hear them. Their opening and and closing doors. Their feet slapping onto the floor as they rush through the halls. Can you?" I asked as I shut my eyes again.

"I can't"

 

Then suddenly, the victim's eyes would snap open. And upon seeing their internal organs displayed grotesquely on the table next to them, and after they smelled their own blood strewn on the floor and the walls of the room, would begin to scream once again.

His new skin would begin to bubble and boil, it would turn increasingly hot to touch. The vaccine was still causing growth inside of them, but there was no more room. They would scream, writhe, and try to work their way out of the restraints, that way they could claw at their skin. But the restraints would not budge, they are powerless to what is happening.

Then there's a squishing, splattering noise that follows as he just implodes. 

 

I cringe and slowly open my eyes once I feel him running his fingers through my dirty, smelly, grimy hair.

"I'm next," I told him quietly "but I'm not going to scream."

"You don't know that."

"But I do..."

And then he was shaking, as he sobbed, quietly, into my shoulder.

 

The figure would stand up, very disappointed, as he walked away from the now quiet, now dead and motionless body. The body with the red, warm, chopped up, insides displayed on top of the rest of them. A last bubble of blood popped as the figure looked back at the body, the dead, imploded body.

"Someone help me clean this up...." The figure said, motioning towards the once white room. It was now covered in blood, and body parts.

 

I opened my eyes again, this time it was from the sound of my door opening, the light streamed in, blinding me momentarily. But I began to be able to see two men in the doorway. He gripped me tighter, not wanting to ever let me go. But the men tore him away from me, then they unlocked me from the wall. And they led me to the newly cleaned, sterile white room. 

 

I shut my eyes again. Trying to ignore his loud sobs as they lead me away.

Author's Note

Yep! *smiles*