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𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗭𝗘𝗥𝗢
• 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘜𝘌 • (the devil and his subjects)
┈┈┈┈․° ☣︎ °․┈┈┈┈
SEVEN'S TEARS BURNED HER EYES LIKE ACID BEFORE FALLING,creating a path of pain and shame on her soft skin as she shook her head, failing to focus; the shrieks rang in her ears long after ceasing, disorienting her.
"I hope you're not thinking you'll obtain our sympathy with this little act. You're not the one hurting."
The doctor in the room had a furrowed brow that hadn't moved the entire time they were there, and her lips were pursed so tight it almost looked painful. Seven couldn't remember her name, an unusual occurrence considering their history, and on a typical day, concern would have taken over her thoughts as to why the sudden amnesia. (God, she wanted to kill her) (Jesus)
Looking down at her hands buried in the matted fur, she tried to focus. It wasn't working anymore; even though dozens of thin-like-hair gold, black, and red shimmering threads involved the outline of her hand and arm, which showed that the natural color of her veins had started to shift to black again, slowly encompassing the extension of her arm, almost reaching her neck, as if coal had been liquified and injected into her.
"Just let him go," she whispered.
"That's up to you, not me. Your actions are the ones keeping Buddy here." Seven looked up in disbelief.
It wasn't fair.
The dog had looked healthy and happy when they had started, what Seven would guess, almost an hour ago. She had tried to keep that image of the dog in her mind as they began and he quickly became unrecognizable, with popped blood vessels in his droopy eyes, frothing at the mouth, sticky fur, and the shock collar she already knew around his neck covered in white foam.
Something resembling an etiquette was glued around his left paw, pulling at some of his fine furs while the electrodes connected to her pulled at her fine arm hair.
The longer the ordeal went, the longer Seven tried to ignore her thoughts. Wishing to be in the place of a tortured animal to gain sympathy from the doctors across the gallery made her sick.
They had shown more compassion to the poor puppy that day than they had shown for her ever. Maybe she didn't wish to be strapped to that table, just not to be the one invoking disgust but pity, love, anything that would decrease her guilt, bring her comfort.
