Ugh. Oh, what the hell happened? Why do I feel so shitty? What—oh. I'm in that room again. Damn. I remember now.
Hey, where is everybody? Hello? Can anybody hear me?
The patient sighed and rubbed a hand over aching eyes.
I guess nobody cares.
Seconds passed and the minutes staggered by. The patient steadfastly waited, eyes darting about the room for a speck of dust on the floor, a crack in the wall, anything that might distract from the awful silence that hung chokingly thick in the air.
The room was a sterile, apathetic white. White walls, white ceiling, white tile floor. Nothing to look at. Nothing to see. Just a cube-shaped prison that the patient was trapped in.
HEY! I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE! SOMEBODY ANSWER ME! YOU BASTARDS! YOU GODDAMNED BASTARDS!
The patient waited for a response, even the slightest acknowledgement that somebody had heard the outburst. The only sound to be heard was the momentary ringing echo of the shouting. The sound faded, as though it had been sucked into the crisp, white walls by some unseen force and the oppressive silence returned, strong as ever.
Why me? Why am I here? Why won't anybody tell me anything? I never did anything to deserve this! Never!
…
…
…
Did I?
Eyes closed, the patient strained to remember, tried to search through memories that were hidden beneath a thick, white fog. Nothing. The fog was too thick, the memories hidden too deep for anything to present itself.
I hate this room. I hate this damned room. I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT! WHY ARE YOU KEEPING ME HERE?
The patient knew beyond all doubt that the people in white were watching. Waiting. Analyzing. Somehow, they could see. Somehow, they could hear. Somehow, they knew everything. But still, the patient spoke aloud, if only to hear the sound of a voice.
All right. Whoever's out there, I know you want me alive. I know you don't want me to get hurt. Or at least, I know that you don't want me to hurt myself. You didn't seem to give two shits when that psycho was shocking me before. But you didn't let me die. And before that, you didn't let me hurt myself. Those men came and stopped me.
I bet that if I do something to hurt myself, those men will have to come back again. After all, you wouldn't want me dying on you. Wouldn't want to have to clean up my dead carcass, would you? Of course not. So when those men come back, I'll be getting some answers. And if they don't come back? Well...I guess that means that I'll…
…
…
…
I'll see you sons of bitches in hell!
The patient chuckled, wishing that whatever the Watchers were using to see the room was visible. The patient wanted to give the Watchers the best possible show, allow them to have the best view of everything that was about to happen. Finding no sign of cameras or anything of the sort, the patient sighed, disappointed.
Hope you all have a nice front-row seat for all of this.
The patient smiled, and then, mouth open quite wide, rammed a finger down, down, down into the throat. The gag reflex hit immediately, and acidic bile flowed up the throat, into the mouth. The patient doubled over, retching as the vomit spewed across the white tile floor, tainting the white with a watery brown-yellow.
Uhhrrgh…. You guys gonna come and stop me yet or do I need to keep going?
The patient waited to hear any sign of the Watchers. All was quiet.
OK. Fine. Here we go again.
Again, finger into throat, choking, choking, gagging, doubled over retching, but dry this time. The patient coughed, willing an empty stomach to produce something to show for the effort. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Goddamn it! You'd…you'd better come and stop me before…before I….
The patient dry retched again and dissolved into a coughing fit. The patient forced words through the short, barking coughs. Before I—cough—try—cough—something else!
With a growl, the patient rubbed hands through the warm vomit, spreading it, smearing it against the walls, painting over the cold, uncaring white.
Who would have thought…I love interior decorating! Don't you? I think this white is boring! So damn boring! A nice little paint job is just what this God awful room needs, don't you think?
There was still no sign of the Watchers coming to take the patient away. With a furious howl, the patient began to scratch wildly, fingernails digging into flesh and raising red trails in their wake.
You'd better come and get me out of here, you asses! Come and stop me now!
Over and over the fingernails dug into biceps and forearms, until the blood trickled in thick, warm streams. Hands smeared red, the patient began to paint the walls, wanting to blot out every last inch of that glaring white.
AREN'T YOU GOING TO COME AND SAVE ME? LET'S SEE YOU COME AND STOP ME NOW! WHAT'RE YOU WAITING FOR? HUH? COME AND GET ME! HAHAHAhahahaha….
April 17th. Third test run both revealing and disturbing. Patient inflicted substantial damage to arms, required seventeen stitches to properly close wounds. Administered significantly higher dosage of narcotic drugs; patient not expected to awaken for at least two days. Physician recommends use of restraints during next test run to ensure that wounds heal effectively, however restraints are not to be used. Next test run to begin immediately upon patient's awakening.
Author's Notes: Well, that was disturbing, no? Such are horror stories! And yes, once again, I have managed to write an entire chapter without mentioning anything about the "patient's" name, looks, age, or gender! For anybody out there dying to know who the "patient" really is, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait until the end of this story to know for sure. Next chapter I will start dropping subtle (or at least I think they're subtle) hints to who it is, but I'm not out and out saying the name until the very end. Aren't I cruel? )
Thanks to shadowwaker, Kagome Igurashi, YO!, Gijinka Renamon, Karimaru, Silently Broken, Einna, Hiro.P, Aura Phoenix, crimsondarkwaters, Duelchick901, Lindsey and Leila the BMGs, and DemonAlphaWolfKidNE for reviewing the last chapter! All of your feedback (and guesses!) are much appreciated!
Also, to Einna: I have never heard of Spiral-Suiri no Kizuna...I hope that this story doesn't sound too much like something from it. If it does, thenit's a coincidence. (Hmmm...now I'm going to have to go and find out more about Spiral-Suiri no Kizuna!)