Lamb To The Slaughter ✔️

30

Being a healer, it makes me rejuvenate faster. Regulate everything inside me to normal levels easily. I never got sick, that was a plus when working in a hospital. So, when my eyes finally crack open and wince at the light, I'm expecting it to have been a couple of hours.

I look around. Chains, like the ones they had kept Atlantic in, were around my wrists and ankles. I'm not sure what special material it was made out of to make it so difficult to break out of. I tug on them slightly, feeling how hard it would be. As I keep looking around, I know it's not the hospital. I recognized every room there. This one was darker. The lights weren't as harsh. My eyelids felt heavy as I sat on my knees. 

The heavy door in front of me opens. I can tell it was a similar door to Atlantic's room. I would say I deserved this, after all I knew this was how Atlantic was being kept, and for years I did nothing. It was only fair for me to get a bitter taste of the karma I deserved. 

"I see you're finally awake," Maria says. She looks clean, happy, wearing fresh clothes with a smile. Unlike me. I can feel how badly my hair needs to get brushed. "It would appear I gave you a little too much. I thought you'd be knocked out for a few hours, not a few days."

Days? That word makes my tired eyes open wide and my chapped lips part. As I sit on the ground, I question, "Days?"

She doesn't even care. She just keeps looking at the papers in her hand. 

"Your chart is quite amazing, Aria," she says as she flips pages. "It's impressive, everything you were capable of."

"Go fuck yourself, bitch," I say. "Listening to your voice is worse than death, so just kill me already."

She smiles as she moves her eyes from the pages to me. She sets her pen down on her clipboard. 

"There's something I'd like for you to try, first," she tells me. My eyebrows lower.

She steps out of the room for a moment. I think maybe she might've left, until she steps back into the room and pushes someone's dead body toward me. I ask, "What the hell?!"

"Save them," she tells me. I look at the dead body. It's freshly killed, the blood still dripped out of his stomach, leaving a trail against the floor. 

"I'm not saving your friend," I tell her. "Be sure to wear black to their funeral, it's polite."

She narrows her eyes at me, "This is not my friend, Aria. Just a random person I pulled off the street and killed. Now, save them."

My face is covered in shock as I look up at her. I whisper, but it's loud enough for her to hear, "You're a fucking psycho."

"Maybe," she says. My words don't affect her. "Now save them."

I look at the dead body in front of me. Slowly, I move closer to them, until I can put my hand on their chest. I shut my eyes as I heal them. I feel the energy leaving my body, I feel the pain I usually do, but it feels so much stronger. It hurts so much more. Razor blades inside my blood stream, cutting all my arteries, that's what it felt like. I can feel blood come from my eyes, nose, and ears as I try to save this man's life. 

When my heart feels like it's going to stop beating, I remove my hand and open my eyes, clutching at my chest. I see the man in front of me. He's still dead. In the reflection of his eyes that look at me, I see how much blood stains underneath my eyes, ears, and nose. 

"Just like I thought," Maria says while writing something down. I look confused.

"W-why can't I save him?" I ask. "I know I can save, I've done it before."

She keeps writing on the page. She doesn't respond to me. It makes me angry, so angry, I stand up and try to run at her. But, just before I can reach her, the chains hold me back. So I'm forced to stand just a few centimeters away, but I cannot reach her.