A/N: This was made for the Harmony MAYhem event with the prompt "AmnMAYsia" (a.k.a. Amnesia)

This story is really dark for most of the time with body horror, body modification, gore, violence, and a whole lot of layers of an underground production of human experimentation, so you've been warned. I promise that there will be fluff sprinkled here and there and eventually start to get up with the level of angst later on.

Until then, strap in and enjoy the ride!

There was joy, a moment of sunlight, a trace of laughter and a smile. It almost felt like a dream, that floaty feeling one got when everything was perfect and it seemed that all was right with the world, and that any suffering before was over. Where there were colours of chocolate and cinnamon followed by an angel's voice, muffled and distant. Where names — new, foreign, unfamiliar — were being called out in a child-like happiness. Where the odd and strange smell of something being cooked, of a hot and ready meal just at the fingertips of these blurry figures.

Then, there was a cloud — giant, threatening — and it loomed over the sky, covering everything in a dull grey, consuming these cheerful voices, these dancing images in black. There was pain, scars and war flashing everywhere, where there was no escape, no magic doorway to flee the all-consuming trauma and death that reached as far as the eye could see. The only light was coming from another disfigured thing, the same angelic — not the same; more broken — voice screaming at whoever was witnessing all of this to wake up, don't leave, stay here, live, live, live—

The cloud swallowed everything there too.

A different pain cut through the air. Neglect, starvation, loneliness, not knowing what was supposed to happen, what they were doing there, not knowing anything, not present, not alive, only there for something … A purpose to serve, to follow others, no free will, no choices, no, no, no—

The world spun, the cloud became a storm, the thunder cracked with the noise of a bomb, the rain shattered the fading windows, pelted against skin — Whose skin? — green lightning striking against a head, the cloud too loud to ignore, screams echoing forever, never-ending, all the noises of pain, crying, laughter, joy, and rage blending together in a clash of mangled pandemonium growing louder, too loud, on loop, the world spinning in an infinite hallway of black, spinning, spinning, spinning—

Then, there was nothing.