Patient B-2

Chapter Twenty-One: Aren

The memories of countless encounters blur together in my mind- a never-ending cycle of exploitation and degradation. I've lost count of the times I've been used like a mere object, my body at the mercy of those who see me as nothing more than a means to their own twisted ends. And now, faced with the possibility of harming Avalyn, I can't help but feel a surge of guilt and revulsion. She deserves better than this, better than to be subjected to the same horrors that have haunted me for so long. She's not like me- she shouldn't be here. But in this place, where powerlessness reigns supreme, there's little I can do to protect her from the same fate that awaits us both.

I'm weak- so utterly weak.

"Please," I rush out, desperation lacing my voice as I frantically twist my head, trying to evade whatever Dr. Gavens has planned.

I hear the sound of Avalyn's arm being dropped, falling limp on the table beside me. Before I can react further, a sharp backhand across my face jolts me into silence. The sting of the blow sends shockwaves through me, igniting a fiery pain that lingers long after the physical sensation fades. A hit is better than his usual methods of inflicting pain though, so I almost find myself welcoming it, grateful even for his act of mercy. It doesn't last long though.

"If you want to be difficult, then we'll have to do this the tough way," Dr. Gavens grits out, his voice dripping with malice as he stomps off somewhere in the room. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

When he returns, his hands clutch an instrument that I can't quite make out, though the glint of silver tells me it isn't anything good. I clench my mouth shut, summoning every ounce of willpower to keep it that way. But as soon as the sharpness of a blade meets my cheek, I know there's nothing more I can do.

The searing pain radiates through me, a sharp reminder of my powerlessness in the face of Dr. Gavens' cruelty. I grit my teeth against the agony, trying to push past the overwhelming urge to scream out in pain. But as the blade continues its relentless path, carving a path of destruction across my skin, I can't help but feel a sense of defeat wash over me.

He cuts away, the sounds more agonizing than anything I've ever experienced. It's deafening- the sickening sound of skin and muscle being sliced open with alarming ease. A blood-curdling scream tears from my throat as soon as my mouth drops open involuntarily. The pain is excruciating, unbearable, as he continues to carve a path up to my ears. It feels as if the lower half of my face has been detached from the rest, the bottom left hanging there.

I can't do anything as her limp wrist is placed into my carved-up mouth. With a firm grip, Dr. Gavens positions one hand at my head and cups another beneath my chin. Then, with a sudden, brutal motion, he snaps my jaw shut, enclosing Avalyn's wrist within the confines of my mouth.

My eyes nearly bulge out of my head, overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. Choked sobs escape my throat as I feel the warm, metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. Despite my desperate attempts to resist, my teeth sink into her skin, tearing through flesh and sinew with a sickening crunch.

I feel Avalyn shift beside me, her wrist tensing in my jaw. Despite the horrors unfolding, a primal instinct takes hold of me, driving me to yield. My muscles relax, and my mind drifts into autopilot as the taste of blood floods my senses, mingling with my own.

Blood drips from my mouth, staining the metal table beneath us with a macabre tableau of despair. Instead of fighting against it, I succumb, just as I always do, allowing the primitive urge to consume me. With each swallow, the sweet taste of blood soothes the raw edges of my anguish, offering a brief respite from the torment.

I barely make out Dr. Gavens's disapproving tut before he yanks Avalyn's wrist away. Her yelp pierces through the haze, pulling me back to the hideous reality of our situation. A chunk of her wrist nearly comes away with the force of his pull, a sickening sight that churns my stomach. But despite the violence of the act, I find myself instinctively following, driven by an insatiable thirst for the blood that flows through her veins.