Artificial Willpower

Detached

Art is once again by the amazing _sleepy.moth_ on Instagram! Go check them out! This is their interpretation of Doctor Pitch. I'll be honest, when writing him I didn't have much of a visual in mind, but after seeing this, I definitely do. It's just perfect.

He wasn't sure how long he was out. He couldn't even begin to guess. There were no dreams, and it didn't feel like any normal sleep. He felt like he was floating in a black isolated void. He always thought floating would be nice, but this didn't. He felt detached. He wasn't sure what he was detached from but he felt like he needed to get back. He needed to find ground, and stand. Not float.

He couldn't even feel his body in this weird conscious yet sleeping state. He was just that. A conscious.

Occasionally he felt a harsh, sharp pain. It felt detached, but woven in every fiber of him. Everything felt so abstract, only causing his anxiety, fear and uncertainty to skyrocket. The first pains were just above his left knee. He couldn't move. He couldn't scream. He was trapped in his head. But even that was foggy.

Next pain was in his right shoulder. The pain seemed to come in waves. One moment very real and excruciating, and the next, nonexistent and everything went abstract.

He almost preferred the pain. He knew he wasn't dead yet when he felt it. He felt more real, more grounded when it was there.

The final waves of pain were in his face. They were more extreme than the rest. But Yancy was still completely trapped in his head. No escape from the pain. No way to move, especially since he couldn't even really feel his body. Only the pain. The lack of ways to express his anguish only echoed in his mind. It was painful, and only being able to think about it, amplified it.

He felt like he was drowning in the pain and thoughts. But at least when drowning in the ocean, the pain will end soon enough. Not this though. There was no end. He wasn't sure how long it had been, but it had been far too long.

Without any warning, he was dragged out of the void like state. His eyes immediately shot open and he started gasping for air, panicked. He could feel everything now.

He heard Benjamin " Sir, his heart rate is faster than normal"

He could hear beeping. The beeping had been there the whole time he had been there, but it had never been noticeable. Now it pierced his skull. The fluorescent lights flickered, but it wasn't just a nuisance anymore. It was overwhelming. The same smell of disinfectant filled the room, but this time it was accompanied by a wrenching metallic smell. The cold metal under his skin felt like millions of needles, poking at every piece of skin they could.

" I can see that," Doctor Pitch said irritably. He headed to a metal stand with some tools on it. Yancy's eyes followed him, as he tried to stay calm and present. His world was spinning, but as his eyes followed Doctor Pitch, he saw his right arm. His new right arm.

His breath caught in his throat, and his hyperventilating stopped abruptly. He was too shocked to even breathe.

It was dark grey, almost black metal. It was sleek, and hardly reflected any light. It had grooves where the metal was sealed together, and a small panel. He flexed his new hand. It moved just like his old one. But he couldn't feel it. It moved just like he wanted, but only his eyes registered that it moved.

Doctor Pitch picked up another needle. Yancy's eyes widened, like a terrified cornered animal. It was all too much. It was all too overwhelming, but he didn't wanna go back to his previous abstract feeling state

"N-no!" Yancy shouted fearfully. Benjamin flinched at the shout, but Yancy didn't care at this point. He was terrified. "N-no I don't wanna go back!" He pleaded. He felt pathetic, but dignity was the least of his concerns.