A distant voice spoke~ to whom was it directed?

The girl couldn't make out the words.

Although her senses were perfectly sharp, nothing was making any sense; it all resembled a pipe dream to her. A half-broken vision that left her numb and uncaring, as her mind fancied itself a pleasant spring morning.

Sitting on her bench after a day of successful work.

A life that came through years of attaining success.

One single time.

She had heard of an impasse, and was now living it, a momentary pause in this universe's sequence.

This would only serve to bring her one thing; happiness.

As success was the only thing she could understand.

Success in the eyes of mankind; now and for the future, was always the same: To conquer death.

"....! Now how'd this come about?" The voice that echoed throughout her entire life, the voice that she could not comprehend or focus on finally spoke clear words for her mind.

Suddenly; as if she tunnel-visioned herself out of a daze. The numbness faded like an icy-mist dissipating in the heat of the sun. She was no longer living in a luxurious past of her mind; rather, her eyes opened and witnessed an all-white facility with people wearing all-white uniforms.

She too wore one.

'Ouch..?' A sudden burning sensation was on the side of her neck, followed by a trickle of pain in her shoulder and across her chest, as if travelling across her arteries and veins.

"...What...?" This was the first word the woman spoke.

"Peculiar, you," The central man pointed at someone else, "Go make sure she was no anomaly. We don't want to have another situation on our hands at the moment."

His finger indicated to a random person who nodded and walked up to the girl—Her eyes darting around as her first instinct was to understand where she was.

But everything was white. The lights, the floor, the walls, the screens, the wires, the men in all-white clothes, her clothes, even the ceiling was covered in a foggy-white shroud.

As a young male with short curly hair that hid under his hat took out a penlight and shone it in her eyes—or what should've been them—it's unclear whether she actually possesses any visible iris's, his breath was in the air as a result of the cold. Hell, even the air was completely white when he exhaled.

His breath... it reeked... of white. All of her senses just screamed the word 'WHITE! WHITE!' until she wasn't really certain anymore what the word was meant to mean or describe; though it was kind of obvious.

After a quick inspection on her, he grabbed her by the upper arms and directed her back in the direction they were headed. He was slow, clearly attempting not to jostle her out-of-sorts mind, even more than she already was.

He is much stronger than me, so why bother holding on gently? Just do what you're best at: Violence and torment! Hahaha...

"You're here to be rehabilitated, not be another damned special case... So get straight, or it'll go awry," His deep and rough voice cracked in an attempt to maintain his composure, as if he knew something that she did not.

"What are you talking about?" She spat back; "Where are you taking me anyway?"

"...Rehabilitation center, and your own personal memory bank. See... The library has gotten a little... well, more dangerous recently..." His words seemed to become increasingly slurred as his legs moved in an automated motion.

The air's becoming heavy... Her head's buzzing... the whiteness was a torture mechanism after all, a trap! And yet she never questioned its appeal...

"Stay with us, yes?"

"Er..."

"Not that you have a choice, I'm the one who'll get you back on track, Onofre."

After hearing that name, the pain started to build.

'This... is this my memory...?'

In that immediate moment, she realized she was dreaming a part of her past once again. The very beginning of her memories.

A dream that haunted her for her entire life as she wishes she had succeeded in gaining back her previous life.

But what can be done now other than to hope that one day it'll just disappear, and fade as if nothing has ever happened? She will see to it personally, by succeeding in doing all that she is told until she is no longer needed.

For success is the only thing she understands.

"...up.."

"Hm?"

"Wake... up..."

Who?

"Up.... you."

Onofre's eyes shot wide open as she put her guard up, but nobody except Zabulus was around here... She gazed at his limp and resting body and took her gloved hands and used them to shake his shoulders; making sure he isn't going to wake up any time soon.

"Alright, this should work." Opening a cabinet and undoing that annoyingly painful ponytail, releasing her hair that was colored pink by the lighting—which looked even more bizarre under the fluorescent bulbs above. Her body moved to the tune of the staccato beats her shoes created as she scurried about and reached the sink where she took the bottle of pills she found, then filled a paper cup of water as well, and went right back to Zabulus.

Drips... The water made a small pool around the capillaries, the dark veins that drew an intricate pathway across his stomach—this man looked half dead with how his skin appeared.

'So dark... has this species always been so... peculiar?'

As she dips a wet cloth and wipes it slowly along the bumps of muscle and bone, along the trails of rivers beneath his skin. His flesh, although alive and pumping, is so very cold that the touch sends chills along her spine and brings tingles up to her face—the pink on her cheeks suddenly turns darker and extends around her ears.

'No! now's not the time. This happens with every patient... sigh... If I don't get rid of this habit... I'll never succeed again...'

She draws circles against his torso with her palms, searching for some strange feeling but it all seems too... wrong for her tastes. The most enjoyable sensations to come from it were the quiet shuffles he made. 'Oh... and his soft breaths.'

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Zabulus wasn't anywhere near being awake, so why was she in such a daze with this man's body? The medication has to work, he just needs to stay sleeping!

It was now or never...

Grabbing a syringe, she let her gloved hand drag lightly against the length of his thigh, noticing each slight reaction his unconscious body made, his veins protruded from the skin as if being a defense against her probing hand; pinching a vein gently, letting a small droplet fall from the needle as her pink hair grazes his side. His body was perfectly still.

Her pulse began to beat faster. It was only for a moment. For one second, and only one, that she wanted to break his soul.

And within that second, she forced the needle deep within a major artery and drained a fair portion of his life source, a warm rush of liquid energy spilling into the needle.

To which, Onofre held a hard gaze on Zabulus. He had remained calm, unaware, and even unflinching, even as the fluid rose into his veins and passed through. She removed the needle and closed his flesh up within seconds.

It was a success. A success!

If she knew what a blood-pressure was then perhaps, she could tell if the 'medication' worked.

There are machines that display this statistic, and it wasn't in an easy to miss place. They were scattered all over the place, even on some of the nurses, which showed how vital it was to have.

'Now, Azkite... will you live up to what the library expects of you...?'

30 odd minutes later...

'It doesn't usually take this long, right?'

Oh dear, something wasn't quite right, and Zabulus still seemed to have a pulse.

Is she in danger? No.

Is he in danger? He should be.

So why the hesitation? Why the lack of a need to feel remorse for her actions? Was something different about this man? Is it... fear...?

Surely not... She's dealt with more heinous entities before.

Plus... she didn't want to fail, not in the slightest.

"AAAGGGHHH! DIE! FUCKING DIE AND LIVE IN HELL YOU PIECE OF FILTH!!"

Screams coming from a room close by alerted Onofre.

"LALALALALA..." Onofre rushed out of the room quickly; so she can leave Zabulus unattended for a while...

She has a feeling she is going to enjoy this, "How's rehabilitation today?"

"LET ME OUT YOU FUCKER!"

Onofre's stared a puzzled expression at the caged creature inside the cell, their skin dry and cracking, their scales falling from their skin and scales alike.

"The new test subject, eh? How's he going?" Another nurse came along and started speaking to Onofre.

"Test subject? You mean that Azkite? Um... It's... it's..." She stopped and collected her thoughts, "It's fine. Everything should be going according to schedule. Except for the new girl... have you checked on her? Oh, and remember what Mr. Kilgore told us this morning. About the tests we run here.." She spoke with a smile.

"Ah yes, what I wanted to tell you was that Sir Kilgore wanted you to come into his room for a bit and assist with a new test."

"Okay. Which is it this time? Is the newest model, the hobo from yesterday, the lizardman over there, or the screaming one inside?"

"Hmph, Hell if I know. He doesn't tell me stuff, and always gives you weird assignments."

"Well I won't keep him waiting, I just need results for my newest find..."

The Onkhivol hospital is a research lab and training facility for newly graduated nurses and doctors, located somewhere around Rielo, specifically built for the medical field. It is led by a man named Kilgore, though no one knows his first name. And slowly but surely, he indoctrinates them and keeps his staff under lock and key. He has many methods of persuasion: A psychopathic approach that involves indiscriminately harming civilians and trainees alike—though, this is never announced to the outside world, and they only see this place as a hospital, therefore this can not be easily refuted—but if anything gets out... every nurse and doctor is bound to die as Kilgore placed a remote on everyone's neck with a pressure-sensitive detonator.

'Something like that...'

"And how many does that make? 19 of them? In this 'hospital'? That's insane!"

"I am not insane. Insanity is a subjective matter, and I have achieved complete and utter rationality."

"Still, 19 isn't normal... We only have 5 employees to run around here, and there's no one else."

Onofre shrugs and opens the door, revealing the room with Zabulus in it.

"...?!"

Except Zabulus was gone.

"Where is he?! Where has he gone?!"

The distant whistle of a train blows as it exits a tunnel and slams into a station.

Watching from above, clinging to the disgusting bug ridden ceiling, Zabulus waited for the perfect moment.

His heart beating with such adrenaline and euphoric anger, he waited. Waited.

Wait...

Now!

Jumping down from the ceiling, he grabbed Onofre's throat and began to choke her.

"I..kgh....!"

The other nurse screams, running off into the distance.

"Oh my... How kind, for you to do the work for me. Unfortunately, I can't be the one killing you, despite all this anger I feel for you. You can thank this world for that. So if I cannot kill you... I will take my anger out on others, instead."

"Khg... ah!" Releasing her, he lets her fall onto the ground, as she falls and slams her back against the bed he laid on just moments prior, Zabulus glances at the bottle and syringe on the ground that Onofre brought to him, "D-don't even think of it!"

"Nah, nah. I was just looking... But I assure you, I do not need it, as I'm a higher being. What kind of god would I be if I needed these?" walking away and making his way through a maze of corridors, avoiding patients, nurses, and the two doctors—one he saw already... and then another, he kept going until he saw a sign that simply said;

EXIT

"Stop right there!" A bottle was thrown, and shattered against Zabulus' head. His instincts took over, as if expecting a hit like that.

"Calm down, won't you... What are you doing? I let you and everyone else leave." Zabulus spoke to Onofre as he turned around, seeing her pathetic display of might. "Should I crush your windpipe right now and put an end to the struggle? Would you feel less helpless?"

"...please, just... I can't let you run away! If you do then... I'll die... I'll... I'll fail! Please!"

"Your death? Haah..." Walking up to Onofre and leaning forward and gripping her scalp, and pulling her close, as she gulps in the air around the two of them.

Onofre didn't have the strength or will to fight back or even to speak at the moment... her life would end right here, by the very patient she attempted to bring the brink of death upon... And yet she would continue to stand here in the hopes that she will prevail and continue to live.

...

Somewhere in his soul, Vetro spoke, words that may or may have not influenced Zabulus and his actions.

"Just this once, can you... can we do good and help someone out? She just wanted to live. Not-"

"Live? That son of a bitch wasn't trying to live, she brought him in and tried to kill him. She's only acting desperate to get pity and then stab him in the back. If she is to die, she should know the reason as to why. For what sin she committed against life itself. Therefore... Why should I not use my anger against her and take my frustrations out on her instead?"

'Are you serious? Zabulus, even in your right mind... Right. This is you, never mind.' Vetro said with defeat in his tone.

"So let me do what I want, maybe I'll listen to you in a more opportune moment. For now though, I'm tired and will do everything in my power to achieve what I want."

...

"No." Dragging her along, Zabulus exited the facility and was blinded momentarily by the sunlight as all he saw in front of him was a path that was surrounded by nothing but grass. A path so long that the horizon was empty. No landmarks, no buildings, or nothing, as if they were in a barren wasteland or planet, or no planet at all. "A hospital, yet you all seem to live near nowhere that can need this place. What a fucking sham."

As soon as he stepped outside whilst dragging her, and her neck passed by the door, a short beep could be heard.

Then, suddenly.

BWOOOOOOOOOOSSSSHHHHHH

Zabulus feels a shock that electrifies his whole body, as well as Onofre. As he drops her to the ground, her eyes bloodied and bruised, and her hair almost white by its sporadic electricity.

"That's what you fucking get, I guess."

The rest of her body seemed fine, so maybe she was half-dead? On the brink of death? And just needs one more shove? One more pull, or push? To enter that afterlife, whether good or bad. Or if a part of her regrets, if the gods will listen to her pleas.

'Not in this life.'

Still, for whatever reason, just because it felt right, he continued to drag the corpse along with him for the journey ahead, however long it may be.

The sky was a darkening blue, as small bits of stars shone bright in contrast to the lights around the area. He stood over Onofre, a bit of pity washing over him.

He held her over his shoulder.

"Don't blame me. Blame yourself for not being clear, or clever, or being able to scheme and come up with ways to survive on this world."

What did she truly know of him? She acted out of greed, and curiosity. A sin worthy of death on this world.

To him, she wasn't a good or bad person, as she was no god and no saint. And she certainly wasn't worthy of forgiveness, but the remaining good in him perhaps just wanted her to be properly buried.