Fear struck through me as I jumped, startled. I sucked in slow, deep breaths to try and calm the heartbeat thundering in my ears.

My eyes remained trained on the man standing in the corridor, studying me.

He wore a white lab coat, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his black, surgical gloves. His gloved fingers gripped to the bars of my cell as he leaned forward to look at me. I shivered again, I looked into the man's eyes, but he did not return my stare. Instead his gaze flickered over my body, studying my face, my arms, my legs. His striking features were twisted with disappointment, I could practically feel the judgement emanating off him. The man cocked his head, as if considering something.

"No goddess, he will not be the becoming of our masterpiece. A shame. Such beauty to be created must have some sort of start, we will find it elsewhere. But, one could always use... practice."

I stiffened, and my pulse raced once more as the man pulled something out of his pocket. It glinted in the light,

A scalpel.

He twisted the blade between his fingers, "One never becomes accustomed to the thrill of the blade and the flesh. Once I feel the swift of the cut, I... get excited. Excitement makes things slippery. Too much red blocking my vision, clouding my masterpiece. Perhaps I could practice my restraint on this fellow here."

He studied me still, and I never felt more like an circus animal. Fear swirled around in my stomach, I couldn't plead with someone who didn't think me human.

His gaze finally reached my eyes, but I didn't like the hunger I saw in it.

He smiled. "Our practice is awake, goddess!"

He directed his question to me, "Will you aid me in my journey to help the people's perfection?"

I took in a breath to suppress my terror. "Don't you dare fucking touch me."

The man's eyes lit up. "It has spirit! Ones with spirit always last longer. The rest, all so easily swayed by pain, eager to give their hand to death. Tiresome, so selfish." He shook his head, and I reminded myself that he was on the other side of my bars, he couldn't harm me.

Unless he had the code.

As if reading my mind, the man turned to the keypad on the wall. My breathing quickened. If he got in... he could do whatever he wanted to me. He could cut me to shreds, and I'd be useless to stop it.

"Do you know the code goddess?" He looked to the air above him. "Technology was never my strong suit, I've always preferred to work with my hands."

The man sighed and put his scalpel in his pocket, my body relaxed slightly with it tucked away.

He didn't know the key, I was safe from him.

I repeated the words in my head, trying to believe it.

But as the lock clicked with the man switching between combinations, my chest tightened, imagining the slim chance that he might get inside. The latex of his glove made a scrunching sound as the man went to press the enter button.

There was a soft click, I sucked in a breath.

Then the keypad's lights flashed red and toned negatively, the man jumped backwards, shaking his hand.

"It shocked me!"

He inspected his gloved hand, then looked up again. "We never can trust machines to make the right decisions, can we goddess?"

"Who the hell are you."

A mix of fear and relief rushed through me as I looked up to the familiar voice. A shadowed Dewitt stood at the far corner of the corridor, his gun trained on the man in the medical clothing. The man looked up, I could see the startled expression on his face. It flickered quickly to annoyance, then became calm; emotionless.

The man turned his back slowly to me, facing Dewitt. His hands were raised, aligned with his head. "Dr. Steinman, sir. Terribly sorry to intrude, I must have wandered too far off the beaten path. I got lost, and happened to stumble across your... patient."

Dewitt walked closer, his gun still held towards Steinman. "I recognize you Dr. Steinman, you're the one that promises them rich folk pretty." He pointed the pistol to Steinman's forehead, "You couldn't be more lost. We do the opposite down here."

Dewitt glanced to me, fear coursed through my veins once more.

Steinman coughed, "I see, well-"

"But that doesn't explain why you're meddling with the keypad." Dewitt cut in.

Steinman hesitated, "Yes. Well, I was looking for a volunteer, of sorts. My customers are so unimaginative, ungrateful of my extensive ability. And he looked like he was no longer of any use, so I thought I might practice my creativity on him."

Booker eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything.

Steinman coughed again, "I will show myself home now, I shall find patients elsewhere. Sorry if I am intruding on a... session."

He backed away from the pistol, turning to walk towards the bend of the corridor. Booker lowered his gun, looking again to me. He stared coldly into my eyes as he called out, "Wait."

My eyes widened, Dewitt's stare continued to drill into me.

Steinman stopped.

"Yes, Mr...?"

"Dewitt." He finished, breaking my stare to turn back to Steinman. "Maybe we could provide you a little practice after all."

Steinman smiled, "What do you need me to do?"

"Just a bit of cutting. This shouldn't take too long. But if I'm going to trust you to Timmy here, I need you to start when I say so, and stop when I say so."

Another flicker of annoyance flashed across Steinman's face, but he nodded. "Of course, but I didn't bring any sort of numbing solution, so the pain-"

"I don't think for a second you give a damn about whether he's screaming." Dewitt interrupted, "In fact, I'm sure you enjoy it." He tucked the pistol back into his pocket. "Skip the pleasantries, Steinman, I'm here to torture this man, and you're here to help. Whether it pains you doesn't matter, whether it pains him does."

Steinman seemed slightly taken aback, but after a moment he nodded again.

"I suppose you see right through me Mr. Dewitt." His eyes trailed over my body. "I can make him scream, if that's what's needed. But if I deliver, perhaps you might allow me to take a few more liberties...?"

"Not till I'm done with him. After that, you can do whatever you want. I suspect we'll be receiving a few more rounds of captured men, we won't need all of them either."

Steinman clasped his hands together, a fire was lit in his eyes. "How wonderful. Take the lead, Mr. Dewitt."

Dewitt nodded. He stole another glance at me as he stepped towards the keypad.

My body shook with terror, he seemed satisfied with my reaction, nodding to himself as he punched in the code to my cell.

My breaths were labored, I stared at the clamps on the floor.

I wish they had killed me. Why didn't they kill me?

She thought she was showing me mercy.

Dewitt and Steinman turned towards me as the lock flashed green and the bars slid by them, opening.

But she just left me to endure this.

"We ready to talk now?"

Dewitt was the first to step into my cell, he walked towards me, stopping a few feet from my dangling body.

My jaw quavered as my eyes flashed to Dr. Steinman, he was holding the scalpel again. I turned my gaze back to Dewitt, I couldn't look at him any more.

There was nothing I could do to stop this.

Pleading would lead to pain.

Silence would lead to pain.

To cooperate would be even worse.

I tried pleading anyway. "I... I can't..." My voice was ragged, breathy.

Dewitt turned to Steinman, "What do you suppose we start with?"

My head lowered to my shoulder. "Please." I whispered.

Steinman studied me again. He looked above my body, to my arm. I followed his gaze. Blood and water trailed across my pale skin. They moved sporadically with the tremor of my arm, of my entire body.

"The skin over the flexor carpi radialis is susceptible to pain." He concluded.

"What the hell does that mean?" Booker responded.

Steinman sighed, glancing at my arm again, never to my eyes. He walked over to my left, his scalpel now positioned in front of him.

He came closer to my arm, his knife came closer to my arm.

"Stay away from me." I warned, panic boiling my insides.

He ignored me as he reached for my arm.

"Don't!" I shouted, trying to kick him. A sharp pain shot through my wrists, I gasped, stopping, breathing, by then he had grabbed onto me.

He brought his scalpel up, and fear froze my entire body. My breathing was quick, ragged.

Steinman grabbed at the sleeve that hung around the middle of my forearm. I heard the tear of the fabric as he cut through it. Felt as the strings binding it together tore from each other. I waited for him to slide the knife into my arm, but he simply revealed my skin all the way to my elbow. He pulled the sleeve of my shirt down past my elbow, then pressed the dull side of the scalpel to the middle of the inner of my forearm. I stiffened again.

"The middle region is the flexor carpi radialis. Softs skin, easy to cut into, will be sensitive to pain. I won't cut any major veins, I'm not planning on digging too deep."

Dewitt glanced about my arm, then nodded his approval. "You can cut on my command."

Steinman lowered the scalpel, but nothing could dull the terror twisting inside me, making my entire body shake. Nothing could divert the fact that the next time Steinman raised his hand to me, he would be cutting into my skin.

My wild eyes flashed to Dewitt, who pulled out another audio diary from his jacket. This time he didn't bother hiding it from me.

He noted me staring at it, "So we remember the information you give us."

I didn't say anything. Just hung my head as he went to put the diary on the crate, as he did his foot nudged one of the clamps on the floor. Dewitt paused, looking down at it.

There was a moment of silence, my breath caught. He leaned down to pick it up, glancing at the battery as he stood.

The other Dewitt's voice echoed in my head.

"He'll be in more trouble if he finds out someone was here."

I looked up, Dewitt was glaring at me now.

"Who's been here?" He demanded.

I stared at the clamp in Dewitt's hand, his knuckles whitened as he gripped the handle.

"I don't know." I mumbled.

"Bullshit." Dewitt retorted. He jabbed the clamp at my stomach, I recoiled, flinching.

It felt like electricity.

Dewitt waited for me to look up again, and my mind screamed at me to meet his gaze, to not give him another weakness to prey on.

I couldn't stop myself from staring at the clamp. I watched it as if it would prevent Dewitt from attaching it to the battery again, as if my gaze would stop it from triggering anymore pain. Dewitt dangled the clamp in front of my face. It spun, slowly. "Last time I checked, you were screaming, and this was attached to a battery. I didn't take these off when I came in." He let the clamp drop, I flinched again at the clatter of stone and metal clashing. "Someone was here, someone took off the clamps, and you're going to tell me who it was."

I couldn't. He wouldn't believe me. I didn't know if I believed me. I only accepted it because they didn't hurt me, because they'd stopped the pain. What reason did Dewitt have to believe me if I said it was he who did it? Much less another him?

"I don't know." I repeated. It came out quiet, disheartened.

It couldn't sound more like a lie. I didn't have any better of an answer.

"I'm getting tired of this Timmy." Dewitt warned. "You know who it was. Tell me, now."

I hung my head, "I don't know..." I could barely bear to speak it to the floor.

Dewitt turned slightly to the left. "Cut him."

My head whipped up, my eyes full of wild fear.

"No-" I pleaded. I looked to my left, Steinman was smiling.

He positioned his scalpel in one hand, the other grabbed my arm, holding it steady.

I twisted my arm frantically, my wrists screamed, as I tried to break free of his grip.

"Don't! You wouldn't understand, Dewitt, please!"

Fear tunneled through me, I didn't care how weak I was to beg to him.

He looked at me blankly, "Was it one of Fontaine's men?"

I shook my head, hoping it would be enough.

"Lies."

Dewitt gave a nod to Steinman.

I struggled more profusely, trying desperately to stop the blade from reaching my arm.

Steinman's grip tightened, he was strong, his hand steady.

"Stop!" I screamed.

My gaze fixed on the glinting scalpel.

Steinman rested the edge on the middle of my forearm, I watched as he positioned his hand on the knife. I whimpered, softly, imagining whatever was to come.

Steinman looked up at me, into my eyes. He absorbed everything in them, his smile widened at my fear.

"This will hurt more if you move."

He tilted his hand, and the tip of the blade dipped into my skin.

He dragged the scalpel slowly across my forearm, I gasped in pain.

I followed Steinman's advice, my thrashing would only drive the knife deeper.

He lifted the blade when the thin red line was an inch in width.

It was shallow and bled only a little, but the wound stung. I clenched my teeth against the sensation.

Steinman positioned the blade again, the tip of the knife where the first cut had started.

"Don't-" I began, Steinman pierced my skin, and brought the scalpel straight down my arm.

I cried out, the cut was deeper, longer. My head turned toward the ground as I breathed heavily, and so I wasn't watching when he did it again.

Surprise made it hurt even more, I let out a shout of pain.

I sucked in breaths through clenched teeth, when the immediate pain settled I looked up at my left arm.

The cuts were in the shape of an open rectangle, four inches long. A short horizontal gash at the top, connected to two long vertical slashes stopping an inch from the bend of my arm. I winced as blood spilled from the incisions, it was starting to become noticeably painful.

But Steinman wasn't done.

He brought the scalpel up again, positioning the blade sideways to where the first cut was placed. I swallowed in fear, waiting for the pain to become unbearable.

I didn't want to see my skin cut into, yet my eyes remained fixed to the knife.

Steinman caught the bottom of the skin of the cut, and brought the scalpel down behind it.

I moaned sharply as he cut into my flesh and pulled his knife out swiftly, painfully.

Steinman lowered the scalpel, stopping to admire the progress.

A square of the flesh inside the rectangle was cut away from the rest of my arm, but it remained in place, connected to the rest of my skin at the bottom.

I couldn't see that a piece of my arm had been separated from the muscle behind it, but I could feel it.

Steinman tucked his scalpel away, he tilted his head at his work.

He ran his finger down one of the vertical cuts. Another whimper escaped me, it hurt like hell.

Steinman turned his head slightly towards Dewitt. "You might want to give him another chance, before I... enhance his willingness."

Dewitt smirked, his gaze burning into my eyes.

"This ain't gonna be pleasant Timmy."

I shut my eyes, against the thought, against his words, against the nearing future.

"If you don't tell me now, you're going to regret it in a few seconds."

His words sliced through me.

"This ain't worth protecting what you know. We don't have to do this to you. Give me the tip on Fontaine, tell me who else was in your cell, and we will leave you with nothing but a few cuts on your arm. You made us do this to you, but you can stop it here. Spare yourself Timmy, you've been through enough pain."

Dewitt's nature shifted as he spoke. His eyebrows raised, his arms out in an open gesture. He seemed trustworthy, almost... kind.

But I knew now that those two traits did not exist. Especially not in a person who tortured people like me for a dollar.

I could practically feel the longing of Steinman, the longing to cause real agony. It sent shivers down my spine, there was nothing even Dewitt could do to keep him off me. Terror pulsed through me, my heartbeat sped. I did my best to take the fear out of my eyes as I stared down Dewitt.

"I can't tell you, I won't tell you... so get on with it."

I was proud at the steadiness of my voice, yet cold with the thought that I had truly sealed my own fate.

Dewitt's hands dropped, and so did his open nature.

"I want to hear him scream."