{A\N Another gruesome chapter. Be warned.}
Me and Taehyung froze in our spots, slowly turning our heads to Margret surrounded by male workers; stood in the threshold. I noticed Mr Ropin, my pulse immediately increasing as I saw his teasing smirk.
"Anna, Anna, Anna." He slowly spoke in shame.
"Anna, I really expected better from you." Margret added. The temptation to scream at her was painful; for not releasing me once they were sure I had no knowledge about my past.
Taehyung stood up, leaning on the desk.
"Don't you dare put the blame on her. She didn't do anything."
I smiled slightly at him, mentally thanking him for his sweetness. He just simply nodded in response, turning his focus back onto the staff members.
"Then how come Anna was the one holding her files? You know your past now Anna. What a shame." Mr Ropin disgustingly teased until Margret interrupted him. "Take her with you, Mr Ropin. Taehyung will get the whips."
My eyes widened whilst meeting the surgeons satisfied ones.
"No." Taehyung confirmed.
"And why's that Mr Kim?" Margret folded her arms, slouching on her left leg.
"You're not experimenting on her when she didn't do anything. You either don't do it or I'll do it too."
Mr Ropin laughed in amusement which earned surprised stares from his colleagues; who had the common sense not to mess with Taehyung.
"Sorry, lover boy, but that won't be happening. Your...girlfriend will be fine." He looked me up and down; disgusted when referring me to Taehyungs girlfriend.
I mean.
Taehyung didn't deny it.
"Taehyung, no. I'll be fine." I admitted- making my way over to Mr Ropin; ready for him to place me in handcuffs. He roughly dragged me out of the room, down the chilly corridors to the dreaded experiment room.
He secured me down onto the bed, this time I was also in headlock. "So Anna. Today I thought I'd go slightly soft on you. Since it's fully recovered, I'll be experimenting on your mood tracker."
I watched his figure stroll around the room, collecting supplies. I completely forgot about the mood tracker. I've had punishments left right and centre I forget a lot of things that happen here.
I began to feel relaxed, it seemed simple.
"But since it's a punishment, we won't be testing on good moods. It will have to be bad ones and pain tolerance."
Spoke too soon.
He sat himself down next to my chained bed, staring into my eyes making me feel extremely uncomfortable.
He chuckled to himself whilst reading results off an black electronic object in his wrinkly hand.
"Just me staring into your eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. Wow, you really must hate me Anna." He slyly laughed once again, earning a cold stare from me.
"Now... how about anger?" He smirked. Literally his face made me angry.
"That was easy." He delivered a sickly smile.
"Now pain tolerance."
Mr Ropin grabbed ahold of a scalpel from his bedside desk, running the blade lightly across his fingers. Obviously lightly enough to avoid cutting himself. My body tensed up, preparing for the pain I was about to suffer.
He lead the sharp object to my cheek, slowly digging in deeper drawing blood. I winced, trying my best to not let him see any sign of weakness. He deeply sliced a straight line across my cheek; removing it afterwards to relocate to another part of my skin.
"Not bad Anna, not bad at all."
This time he moved to my collarbone which hurt immensely. The scalpel dug straight in from my shoulder bone, across my collarbone and stopped in the middle. As well as my cheek, blood was dripping out of the fresh wounds; I couldn't care about sounding week anymore. I started to release moans in pain as he repeated the same on my other side, creating two red cuts on my collarbones.
"Just one more darling."
His words were a failed attempt of being comforting, turning out dark and mischievous. This may be the last one, but I can tell it won't be easy.
Mr Ropin placed the crimson covered scalpel on the side, replacing it with a large kitchen knife. He lifted my shirt up, revealing my stomach- which was rising and sinking dramatically as my breaths picked up. The chains held me down, stopping me from pulling my shirt back down.
His knife began to cut; deeper this time.
I was crying this time.
He wasn't slicing in straight lines; I felt curves everywhere. He was spelling out something.
What felt like forever, Mr Ropin removed his knife with a satisfied yet disappointed expression on his face.
"Beautiful masterpiece. It's such a shame I've finished."
He put a mirror above my stomach so I could 'admire' his work. Scraggly letters made out of bleeding cuts; I felt sick to the stomach seeing what he wrote on my pale skin.
'Child killer.'
UNEDITED
