My vision began to blur, only allowing me to see the splash of blue and darkness of the creatures eyes as they glared down at me. Death was knocking on my door, and there was no way out. There was no way I could run from it. Hell, even if I could run I would bleed out within minutes. Of all ways I could imagine death, I would have never thought of this to happen. Bound to a hospital dead, being cut apart by a masked cannibal. Ha. I would have laughed. But here I was, trying my hardest to see through my tears and spotted line of sight. My stomach throbbed, blood slowly trickling down my skin. An emptiness that I couldn't necessarily feel, but knew was there.

"Answer me!" the creature growled, breaking me away from my thoughts.

My mouth hung limply open, only my ragged breaths spilling from them. What had he asked? Something about what organ I wanted him to take next. Did he honestly expect me to answer him? "Fuck... you," I wheezed, using my last bit of strength for the insult. Who cares anymore? I felt my life slipping away, so my fear was only temporary.

"Fine," the masked man snarled, his knuckles tightening as he gripped his scalpel. "I'll just decide for you-"

I remembered his voice cutting off as I begin to fade away, and the obnoxious blare of sirens approaching. Wait... sirens? I didn't possess any strength to scream for them. I could only hope they were already aware that I was here, and were coming to save me. As I tumbled into a black abyss, the last thing I noticed was the blue masked man sprinting from the room, leaving me behind as I began to float in the dark.

A black, gloved hand slapped over my mouth, silencing my cries. My wails and screams sounded like mere muffles and groans as I tried to shake him away. I heard his lips smack in annoyance as I tried to bite at him, struggling away with little to no avail. My hands were bound, offering no help along with my legs. I probably appeared similar to a fish out of water, flopping up and down but not succeeding to get away. How pathetic was I... Then, my head was thrown to the side, a stinging pain aching on my cheek. My eyes widened, my cries falling silent as I looked up at the masked man who had removed his hand from over my mouth, slapping me across my face.

"Quiet," he hissed, sounding like a snake.

Without another word, he grabbed my wrists, proceeding to drag me into the bleak hospital setting of his torture room. The smell of death hit my nose like a brick wall after we entered, causing my face to contort in disgust. The florescent lights were hard on my eyes, causing them to burn. The masked man roughly yanked me up, nearly throwing me onto the hospital bed. Faster than I could comprehend, he had released my wrists before quickly bounding them once more. Then, my ankles met the same fate. My heart beat a sad rhythm, the familiar setting making me want to claw my eyes out. Not to mention the garbage bag that laid to the side, more than likely holding the hollow body of the man I had saw earlier. Pretty soon, mine would join his.

"Why are you doing this?" I breathed, my throat aching from my screams. I didn't honestly know why I asked that. What answer was I expecting?

"Because I'm hungry," the man snapped in reply, his hard, empty eyes causing me to tremble.

Silent tears streaked down my cheeks as I gulped, shutting my eyes. I was just destined for this fate, was I not? Saved once before, only to be brought face to face with it once more. Forced to see his masked face each and every night in my dreams. Fearing to step outside the door. Attending therapy to try and forget. But, I was brought back once more. I was meant to die in this monsters hands, whether I liked it or not. A pitiful sob tumbled through my lips as I laid there, trying to accept the reality of the situation. I heard the scraping of metal, and it sounded as if he was sharpening his scalpel. I couldn't look. I didn't want to. I will just sit in the dark, and wait for it to consume me.

I felt him pull my shirt up to my ribcage like before, exposing my stomach to him. Exposing the hideous scar that he made. He was just shit out of luck this time around, though. Due to his first performance, I had one less organ for him this time. Ha. I heard the scraping sound once more, along with the clattering of other instruments bumping against each other. How many were truly necessary at this moment? He seemed pretty content with just using his scalpel.

"Now, where should we begi-"

His voice fell silent. And I knew exactly why. He already knew where he was going to start; where he did last time. But, his hollow gaze was on my ragged scar that showed that there was no kidney in there for him to take. Was he going to remember me? Or would he think that I just had surgery from a real doctor? Or simply got cut in an accident? Either way, the scar was enough to cause the masked man to freeze where he stood, his scalpel dangling between his fingers. I watched as he cocked his head, confusion running throughout him, it appeared. But then, he straightened up, nearly dropping his blade in the process.

A chorus of laughter tumbled through his lips, his hands holding onto his belly due to the pressure. His head was thrown back, giving me a view of his jugular as it rose and fell. His cackles slowly died down as he laid his hand on the counter to support himself. The black tar-like liquid trickled down his mask, appearing like tears. He cleared his throat before facing me once more.

"I remember you," he spoke, humor lacing his words. "Yes. You're the girl that I never finished harvesting. The one and only person who survived," he continued, his voice growing darker.

I just sat, my eyes wide as I stared up at him. What was I supposed to say? Yep, that was me. Hi.

"Um..." I murmured, not knowing what to do. I felt like a deer caught in front of headlights.

"Well, luck seems to be on my side. You don't know how bad that frustrated me," he sneered. "And yet, here you are. That's just something, isn't it," he cackled.

Even though I couldn't see it, I just knew there was a prominent smirk on his face. A rush of disappointment filled me as my heart dropped. A hopeful side of me had wished that he would let me go. But, that was an extremely idiotic dream to have. Nothing changed. Possibly only the fact that he wanted to kill me even more now than before. I was the one who got away. I was the one he never finished harvesting. So there was no way in hell he would pass up the opportunity now. I was beyond screwed.

"So," he sneered, twirling the scalpel between his fingers. "Why don't we start off where we were before."

His deranged laughter filled the air as every last drop of hope I had trickled away.

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