“The subject seems to be slightly more stable now. She has likely gained either [Resist Pain] or [Resist Fear]. The subject should remain viable for the next part of the procedure,” the creature spoke in it’s dark tongue.

“That was fast,” said the other voice.

“Yes,” spoke a third, “but that was to be expected. The same way infants gain basic skills, so too will she. Possibly more so, if there is some counterbalance. There is no one else her age who possesses no class. That makes her unique.”

“Yes, yes,” spoke the second voice, “I am very well aware of how truly remarkable she is as a specimen. Now, commence with the next stage.”

By then, the pain had faded a little. It was still there, it still burned within me. But it was lessened. It was only around this time that I realised I couldn’t deny it all anymore. This wasn’t a dream. This was all real. I was being tortured and experimented on like some kind of toy. There was no waking up from this.

And then the nightmare got worse.

The second part of their trial began. Something else was brought into the room. Like me, this was also bound and paralysed and I could see the blood oozing from the same puncture wounds that marked me. Only, the thing’s blood wasn’t red but a thick, near-luminescent violet.

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I remember thinking it looked radioactive.

The rest of the creature was even stranger than its blood. Its skin was a deep purple colour and even paralysed as it was, the creature looked more muscular than any normal person. It’s entire body was scattered with strange markings I couldn’t understand and a single horn erupted from it’s forehead. Horn wasn’t quite the right word. Plenty insects and even some mammals have horns. This wasn’t like that. This was more like an overly large rose’s thorn. The eyes were the strangest part though. It had six of them, 2 clusters of three and where an eye was usually white, these were almost black. White painted the centre of the creature’s eye.

The smell of ozone and rot grew stronger.

Another two figures arrived; these ones free to move. One of them had a small table with them, with a series of strange tubes and contraptions I didn’t recognise. The three of them moved in almost perfect unison. It would have been impressive if it weren’t for the torture and the pain or the general eeriness that seemed to permeate their movements.

One of them lifted a pipe. It was thin and long, with a strange needle at either end. A quick, almost practiced movement ran the spoke into one of the puncture wounds on the other creature. Moments later, similar spokes had been placed in each of the 16 sites on the creature’s body. It didn’t seem to move; it didn’t seem to struggle. I couldn’t tell if that was the paralysis, but to my eyes it may have already been dead.

I watched them turn the creature, its back facing me and I felt them turn me too. It was only then that I began to realise what was about to happen.

The panic hit me again and, again, I was unable to do anything. Powerless, completely and utterly.