Prologue

Click. 

The last of the leather restraints were fastened onto the patient. He swallowed a thick lump in his throat. Granted, it was just another day of treatment in this hell-hole, but at the same time, he was dreading what was coming; from what he had overheard from the two oldest psychiatrists in his ward, he would be subjected to what they called a "more effective" treatment. 

The patient’s breathing quickened when the electrodes had been placed, one on each side of his head. Usually before he was even strapped in, the nurses administered drugs to keep him relatively calm, and for some odd seconds, he’d  thought they’d just forgotten. However, he turned his head to look towards his doctor; the man was comfortably seated by the small black machine as he always was. His dark eyes stared back at the patient's, cold and hard as usual. No, they hadn't forgotten...
 
“Open,” one of the nurses said, holding the plastic mouth guard up close to his lips. The terrified human moved his head as far as he could from the thing. 

“I said, open,” she wrenched his jaws apart, forcing the brown object into his mouth. He unwillingly bit down on the plastic. Satisfied, the nurse turned to face the doctor, nodding her head in confirmation. The doctor nodded back, his hand reaching for the dial. The patient lifted his head up as best he could, his face the color of sour milk. 

“Wait!”

Switch.