Day: 6

Waylon was woken early and shoved into the engine therapy. Suffering the new extension of his therapy of 12 hours. Instead of the starting time of 6 hours. The doctors continued to say he was doing well. they called in a specialist doctor to see if he agreed. They also hoped he would join the dissecting team.

Lower scientists loved to show off in front of higher doctors. Cutting in patients more quickly. Yanking things out in a "organized" manner. It was more excruciating then normal for patients. Usually causing blackouts or forcing patients into shock.

Waylon was strapped in a chair to be looked over by the high doctor. Sitting there barely conscious and in constant pain. He smacked his dry mouth a bit as he watch doctors scrambling around to collect data for files. The medical room door opened for the doctor arriving. From the corner of his eye, Waylon saw him limping slightly.

He looked over hazily at the doctor, the world spinning for a second. He felt terrified when he saw that it was Andrew. That disgusting sadistic doctor who just about molested him during there last meeting. He assumed he was dead and this was becoming the last straw for Waylons insanity.

"First Gluskin then Andrew, why is this happening? What did I do to suffer this hell?!" Waylon said, trying to sink in his strapped chair to avoid being see. He was trying not to shake from fear, but the shivering of his illness was getting through.

The doctors spoke for less then a minute before catching sight of Waylon in the chair. His wide grin disturbed Waylon. Waylon just wanted to die at that moment. He didn't care how, even Eddie breaking in to mutilate him would be welcoming at this moment. He didn't know what Andrew would be doing to him.

"so you're the one who's been doing so well. You look healthy enough." Andrew grinned. grabbing and holding, a struggling, Waylons face forward.

"i was going to just examine you and leave, But ive changed my mind. Iam sure you'd hate to see me leave, wont you Waylon? You can be a good lab rat, with how well you've taken these tests. We should move you for other experiments. Maybe some stress tests or injections testing." Andrew grinned, shoving Waylons face away. Waylon stayed quiet, only glaring at him.

"don't want to talk? That's fine, eventually you'll talk with me." Andrew smiled.

"set him up on the operating table. I wanna see if any ulcers are showing in his organs." Andrew said monotone before limping a little over to some tools. The doctors began unstrapping him, yanking him up and over to the table. Despite his pain and illness he fought off and attacked doctors. He knocked a few over before they successfully strapped him on the table.

They stabbed a needle of painkiller into his neck. Before it could take effect Andrew began unsteadily cutting him open. Waylon hissed in pain, squirming and trying to move away from the scalpel.

"sorry if your cuts don't look very nice. My arm was injured during the Walrider incident and so was my eye." Andrew said as he basically shredded through more of Waylon, going past the basic Y cut to stop at his hips. The other doctors brought a light over and stretched Waylon open to expose his organs.

Andrew sliced open his stomach in a unsteady curve. he grabbing a pump to removed around 5 cups of undigested puree food powder. It was the only thing Waylon felt happy about since he started surgery. The removal of that junk cement made his stomach feel 10 lead bricks lighter. It stopped the cramping and knotting after a moment. The junk looked like black mud in the pump container.

Waylon winced again as his sliced open stomach was messed with. Sides being scraped a little for samples. The organ shifted and moved around for inspection. Andrew left it alone after a few more samples. He cut open a few more organs, examining them and taking samples. His kidneys, and livers were left sliced open with his stomach while Andrew talked with the doctors about the samples and another schedule change for Waylons.

Waylon shut his eyes, feeling his fever spike. The room was becoming unbearably hot for him. His eyes opened when Andrew slapped him.

"don't fall asleep, we don't need you dying on us right now." Andrew said, messing with Waylons organs again.

"and good news, we changed your schedule and squeezed you into injections testing. Some injections mite speed up your engine therapy." Andrew said, cheerfully. Waylon silently glared again.

"still not speaking? Eh, you weren't much of a talker anyway, were you? You didn't seem to like people either. Especially me." Andrew said, yanking one of Waylons organs after. Waylon winced in pain, feeling like he should vomit. With the puree junk removed he could, it was something very tempting.

Waylon held it in however. Andrew and a lot of these doctors would be visiting him daily and had complete control over his life. They could be down right cruel and torturous and no body would bat a eye about it. It was a regular activity around here. If a scream was heard, it was just a common background noise. Murders were cleaned away in minutes by staff. Body's burned to ashes or, if left with patients, eaten.

It was all a dark hell that Waylon thought could only exists in nightmares or story's. But here it was and he was living through it all. Hell seemed more merciful to him now then ever. Dieing wasn't the worst thing anymore, living was. Living with all the fear, torture, panic, and abuse. Something would kill him here, so far it was going to be sickness or multiple surgery's.

He was just feeling so tired. The engine therapy schedule had cut majorly into his sleep. Now with more experiments, he mite be having less then 6 hours of sleep. It was becoming a count down of days for Waylon. His focus changed when doctors started talking about where to take Waylon to injections testing.

Talking about sectors, halls, rooms to pass by. Waylon listened more when they mentioned the front door exit. This is when a idea hatched. Doctors didn't care what he heard, if they ever talked about the building layout, he would listen. He would memorize the layout and would escape if it was the last thing he did. He just needed to survive till the time was right.

Knowing the layout will help him in a quick escape. Better then just running blindly through the patrolled rundown building. He could run straight for the exit. He could just keep running after. Escape to the next town, tell authority's of the hell hes suffered.

He winced at being stabbed with a needle. He wished it was a painkiller, but by the way doctors were setting him up to machines, he assumed no. the doctors said it was a injection of hallucinogenics to try and speed things with the engine therapy. Large amounts of stress brought back flashes of the engine.

Waylon had woken up experiencing the horrific images caused by the engine. Body's, blood, his body being ripped apart by patients. The worst ones were when Eddie seemed to appear. Eddie didn't even have to do anything. Just standing there, watching, was a paranoia causing experience. Waylon would freeze in fear, staring back at the hallucination.

Waylon was afraid that one day it wouldn't be a hallucination. He looked over to the left side of him. Freezing when he saw Eddie standing there, staring at him. Thinking about him had caused the hallucinogenics to conjure a image of him. Eddie stared down with a unamused face, but slowly he grew a wide grin. Waylon started to breathe hard and tried to move away. The restraints stopping him from going farther then 2 inches.

He panicked more when Eddie looked over and grabbed a scalpel from a tool table. Waylon watched, eyes growing wide as the scalpel was brought close to his face. He shut his eyes at shooting pain when his throat was stabbed with the scalpel.

He couldn't breath anymore with the pain. Wheezing and choking on the taste of blood. The struggling and wheezing of Waylon, on the table, caught Andrews attention.

"fucking thing cant breath." Andrew said annoyed, grabbing a breathing tube. He shoved it down Waylons throat, allowing air. Waylon could breath again, but was still gagging on the taste of imaginary blood.

thank you for reading and please comment. =]

you guys are fast on comments. and poor Waylon, he has the worst luck.

unlike the original and sequel, this will require 5 comments(1 per person) per chap to continue!

1 chap = 1 Waylon and Eddie POV