Yue pressed himself firmly against the door, attempting to keep the so-called doctors from getting into the room. However, he was only a boy of roughly eight or nine years of age; a half-Daemon.
Half-Daemons' were of higher demand, as they were like magnets for the very astral energies that were needed for the continual survival of their full-blooded counterparts. It was also the source of power for these creatures; what gave them substance, sustenance, and form. Without it, these great and terrible beings would cease to exist.
Yue had been brought here nearly a year ago, brought to this cold and frightening place by a Catholic organization that called themselves the Magdellen Order. They had assured him that he would be safe here, that this was a place where he'd be well-cared for. However, it seemed that Yue had been brought here merely for the empowerment of Daemonkind.
The strange people here often gave him things called "shots" to place various substances of questionable content into his blood to make him dumb and drowsy. Yue found it nearly impossible to communicate, and, when he tried, his mouth and throat were so dry that it was incapable of proper speech. And, due to nearly total paralyzation, he had to be fed through a tube; although, even during these times, it was only enough to keep him alive.
His limbs felt like lead weights and all he'd be able to do was sleep or observe the white linoleum. His hearing was as though he were underwater, his vision greatly blurred to the point in which he was nearly blind. Reading, of course, was impossible; much to the boy's utter dismay. His head seemed full of cotton, and to think would result in huge headaches. Breathing, within itself, was an effort.
He mustn't let them paralyze him again. He had to escape, even if it meant his untimely end.
Yue, please, let me help. You won't be able to hold that door much longer... Please, let big-brother help, Yue...
Yue shook his head against the voice inside, the voice that had been born the day that Mother—
"No! My body is my own! Silence!"
The disembodied voice was a reminder of all that he had lost. A reminder of his long-denied quest to find the man that had never been there. The man that his mother had loved so much...
He slid to the floor, the strength that had been so concrete only moments before drained from him. The malnutrition getting the better of his weakened body as his knees gave way to the cold embrace of the floor below.
His tears were the only warmth he felt as his body locked up on itself in a state of seemingly constant paralysis. A cool kiss on his cheek as he came in contact with the seductive coolness of the linoleum as he failed to grasp his fleeting consciousness.
Yue! If you give up now, we'll—
The boy was numb to the voice within that was not his own as darkness of an old and gentle variety claimed him.