These Asylum Halls Used To Be Lonely- A Shred Squad book

(25) The Fire

                     Uni's POV (yay!)
        As I began to come too, I felt my body ache, but more specifically, my arm and head. I groaned, shifting slightly. I felt weak and drained, and I felt a wet substance beneath me. I felt something cold and uncomfortable wrapped around me, seemingly keeping me in place. My breathing was shallow, and my head hung limply. I took in a deep breath, slowly lifting my head up, and opening my eyes. My eyes burned when I opened them, and my Vision was painfully blurry. I shut my eyes again for a moment, before reopening them, my vision becoming more clear as I blinked slowly a few more times.

      I slowly looked around, seeing that I was in some sort of lab. There were desks and tables everywhere, and formulas, beakers, and such sat upon each table. There was also aged blood staining the walls and floor, making me feel uncomfortable. I looked down, noticing that I was wrapped in chains, leaning against a wall. I struggled a bit, but soon found that I was too weak to even move, barely. I sighed tiredly, then, I realized something...Something was different, everything was more...Quiet.

      My heart jolted, and I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I huffed angrily, and forced my voice harder, "G-Guys...?" I rasped, my voice nothing more than a airy whisper. I received no answer, and I felt my heart rate pick up, "Uni~Chan..? Ricky...? Duni..? Anyone...?" I whispered, but still received nothing. I felt tears prick my eyes, I hadn't felt so alone in years. "G-guys, please..." I cried, a tear slipping down my cheek. "Oh, I see, it worked." An unfamiliar voice spoke, and I looked up slowly, looking in front of me.

     There stood an unfamiliar person. He wore a gray T-shirt with a bloody stained lab coat, grey pants, and square glasses. He had dirty brown hair, and bright blue eyes. And I couldn't help but notice the name tag he wore, which read, 'Dr.Ross'. I hissed, "R-Ross...What h-have you d-done..." I croaked. He laughed, "Whatever do you mean? I only cured you, I saved your life...You should be grateful." He purred, and I bared my teeth. "N-Never...What d-did you do to them..." I hissed. He raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?" He asked.

      I glared darkly at him, "Ricky...Duni...U-Uni~C...They're g-gone, what have you done...." I growled. He looked surprised, grabbing a clipboard, and scribbling on it, "Interesting...It seems my formula has cured your schitzaphrenia..." He said quietly. "W-What!?" I whisper-yelled. He smirked, "It seems I've helped you in more ways then one..." He commented. "H-Helped!?" I spat, tears streaming down my face. He narrowed his eyes at me, "Yes, helped...And now you owe me." He began, "And stop crying, be a man! They were only stupid voices. They were but figment of your broken imagination. Stop grieving as though they were real people." He ordered, and I looked down at the ground. "All right, be that way. Now, I'll be right back, I have some business to attend to." He said, and I heard him walking away.

      I sniffled and sobbed, my tears making small splashing noises as they collided with the blood that surrounded me on the ground. I clenched my teeth. Those 'stupid voices' had kept me company for 1q years, and had been there in my biggest time of need. I sat, stared at the ground as I cried, recalling when I had first met my voices.
(I've been planning this chapter for MONTHS)
                       *Flashback*
      I was sitting at my small art desk in my small room on the second floor of my large house, doodling. My parents and I lived in a house in a large clearing deep in the woods. They had owned a paper-making buisness, where they got the majority of their money, before discovering the beauties of nature. They then quit, building a house in the deepest depths of nature.

       I was humming, not paying attention to anything other than my art. I noticed a small rise in temperature, but I shrugged it off. Then, I smelled a strange scent, it smelled like something burning. "Dad must be cooking again..." I murmured with a smile, continuing to draw. Then, I heard my mother screaming my name, and I looked up from my drawing, immediantly noticing that black smoke that filled my room. I gasped, running out of my room, and to the staircase.