Warning: This story deals with torture, rape, self-harm, and PTSD, and may be triggering for some.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Two men in nurse's uniforms padded through a dimly-lit hallway, one carrying a syringe and vial. They reached a door, and one pressed his thumb into the identification scanner. The door slid open, revealing a small, white room with a toilet and a metal bench. In the corner, there was a girl, huddling with her face pressed into her knees and crying quietly. She wore a white smock and white trousers, but there were red stains blooming on both. Her wristband displayed the words Tyler, Rose and the number 71834.
At the invasion of the two men, she immediately flinched, sensing their arrival. She peeked up, then buried herself deeper into the corner, wrapping her arms around her legs. One man kneeled down and pried her arms away, to reveal fresh cuts with blood leaking out crisscrossing down her arms. The man looked at the other man, and shook his head. The girl continued to cry, shaking violently as the man took out a roll of gauze and wrapped it around her wounds until they were completely covered.
Then he looked her in the eyes, his gaze cold and direct. "We need you alive," he said in monotone, with no intention whatsoever to comfort her. "Take her to the lab. She needs another dose."
"No, no, no!" the girl cried, shaking her head and batting the men away as they tried to grab her. "Not the lab, please not the lab! Please!"
She screamed as they dragged her up by her arms, and she kicked violently, squirming within their grasps, trying to wrench herself free. Still they were stronger than her, and they simply tightened their grasps, and pulled her further down into the dark corridor.
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