I awake slowly, the crown of my head throbbed, like a baseball bat had smashed my skull. My vision blurs, I struggle to get a bearing on reality. I raise my hands to rub my head, or try to, when I realized something impeded the motion. I lay on some sort of gurney, with large leather straps covering my chest and legs. My arms are bound together by a similar strap. Somehow I manage to crane my sore neck to see that I'm in an empty hospital room. I can hear talking outside the room, I try to decipher the words, unable to make out what was being said. It must be because they're so far away...But I can hear it so clear. I realize it's not English at all but a different language, sharp and angry. The unintelligible sounds resonated with faded memories...How did I get here? I hardly remember anything.
The door to the room swung open, a man dressed in a white lab coat walks in holding a ridiculously large needle in his right hand. He approaches, and gives me a chilling smile.
"Ne déplacez pas, l'Amour." he says, and a drop of fluid drips down the needle.
"No, please, please not again!" I whimper, my voice only a whisper. My arm, it's still bruised from the many times I had been injected.
He continues on, ignoring my pleas, and injects the drug into my arm. I moan in the unbearable pain, I had lost my privilege of even screaming. My voice had departed, I want to say during week one. But how long have I been here? The man pulled the needle out, undid my restraints, and swiftly left and locked the door behind him.
Searing pain rushed through my veins, the point of origin where the man had injected me. The writhing torture coerced me into a tight ball, I repeat the same sentence aloud to try to keep a grip on sanity.
"All is not lost, the unconquerable will-..." I paused, the rest of it at the tip of my tongue. But I just couldn't grab hold of it, it was starting to slip away from me.
"...All isn't lost, the-" Pain jabbed at my stomach, my voice returned in that split second in the form of a piercing cry.
The woman over the intercom continues to sing her twisted tune in the muddled language. Her voice echoes in my head, mocking me. She mocks my pain. Paranoia began to interpret her words.
"Torment to tell, suffer your hell." her voice rang in my head. I start to hyperventilate, staring blankly at the wall.
I try to remember my little piece of who I was, trying to block out the horrific chant.
"All isn't lost-..." more pain stabbed me.
"Submit all will, continue to shrill." the woman chimed.
I scream and grab my head to block it out. My hand lands on something cold, and hard. Startled I pull my hand away, shaking and slow. Blood coated my hand.
Panic took over, I felt over the crown of my pained head. Solid, bloody, numb.
I can't feel that part of my head, why can't I feel that part of my skull?
I force myself to sit up, my body racked in fear of the unknown.
I look to the right side of the gurney and choke at the sight. A macabre of bloodied instruments lined a stand.
I back up wildly, nearly falling off the gurney. My good foot grazes the floor, I flinch when it touches something wet. I look down to find a pool of slick oil on the floor. I look around to where it could have come from, finding a trail of straggling footsteps all over the floor. As if someone had been bleeding the oil, walking around, and then stood still where I now was. Pain began to ebb away as I concentrated solely on the oddity of the footsteps. I don't remember seeing them there before. What's stranger, I couldn't find the point of origin. As if someone had just appeared in the room, and disappeared just as elusively.
I look up now and let out a small gasp, I find that I'm not alone. I hadn't realized until now this room was larger than I had originally thought. Because right across from me sat something. What was it? It stared back at me with wild eyes. The thing had a missing limb. It's leg had been replaced by what looked like machinery, a robotic prosthetic. It's brown hair was scraggly, dirty, bloody, and long. It tilted it's head in curiosity, I just barely caught a glimpse of the side of it's head. Hair was gone on the crown and part of the left side, and it was replaced with a patch of something. Metal. Was this thing human? As if reading my thoughts it gasped in disbelief. Disgusted with me.
"Créature de la nuit, souffrir et obéir!" A voice screeched from the door. I whip my head around to see who it was, but no one stood there. The door remained locked. In place of a person was something that glimmered in the little sunlight in the room.
I get off the gurney and cautiously approach the object. A dagger lie by the door, fresh blood still glistening off of it. Below it were three letters written in the blood, three letters that sent tremors through my body.
"DIE"
I look at my trembling hands, and exclaim. My arms, they're sliced and bleeding. I don't remember having them. I back up from the disturbing message. I don't remember getting cut, I don't remember sitting down either.
Did I just pick up this dagger? I remember just finding it on the floor, and yet here it was in my hand. I become hysterical and drop the dagger, the clatter echoed through the room. I then hear a woman's cry, I look up and remember that I'm not alone.
I stare at my roommate, the thing looked deranged. It had feminine features and yet it was cold and robotic. I attempt to smile at what I guessed was a she, only to get what looked like a snarl in return. I move to wave to her, instantly her mannerisms change and she waves back. Her robotic leg, leaking fluid with every movement.
Without warning I double over in pain again, this time my leg hurts. It hurts so bad.
Agonizing minutes pass before it subsides, I look up at my acquaintance, who also looks like she had just gone through her own episode.
I move towards her now, trying to at least. She approaches as well. Midway we both stop.
I start to hyperventilate again at what I see upon coming closer to this woman. A hideous creature, ghostly white and sickly. Robotic parts, scars and fresh wounds all over.
My heart drops at the realization of who this woman was.
"All is not lost; the unconquerable Will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield." I say to my reflection.
Tortured, experimented on, starved, I remember some of it now. My memories have holes, so many holes. I don't know who I am, I don't know why I'm here. But none of that really matters right now. Right now, all that matters is one thing. I. Must. Escape.