For a heartbeat, the cage cracked, not enough. It was never f*****g enough.
Dr. Seven leaned over the monitor.
“Acute response,” he said, voice clipped and calm. “Elevated conductivity. Internal suppression destabilizing.”
Oh, good.
Lovely.
At least my suffering was academically interesting. Fascinating even.
The most fascinating death of the century. Lucky me.
The pain sharpened until the room broke apart.
Ceiling.
Light.
Him.
Blood pouch.
My hand twitching uselessly against the cuff.
The tube still taking from me.
Still taking.
Still f*****g taking.
“You’ll die,” I tried to say.
It came out small.
Small enough to humiliate me.
Small enough to make rage crawl up through the pain and bare its teeth. I couldn’t even do a proper threat anymore. Pathetic.
Dr. Seven adjus
