A Little Death

Phase 2

“Skye…” She replicated, “Left or right?”

I bit my lip and stayed silent.

Without warning, she snatched my left wrist and pressed the knife into the cut she had given me earlier.

“AH!” I screeched out in pain, blood dripping down my arm from the cut.

“Left or right?” Her voice regurgitated.

I desperately tried to pull my arm back, but she was far stronger than me.

“RIGHT!” I screamed.

She released her grip on me and threw my wrist back down to the armrest. I instinctively grabbed my wrist with my right hand, and pressed it into the bottom of my shirt to stop the blood flow. I winced in pain the entire time.

Not paying attention to her, the woman had walked back to the tableside and reappeared in front of me. I looked up at her; she held three small straps, similar to the one she had used to tie me to the chair.

“Left hand, please,” She stated calmly. I attempted to swallow my dried salvia before complying with her.

I held out my left arm, and she took it gently. She set it onto the armrest cautiously, and then tied it into place with the strap.

She proceeded with the other two straps by wrapping them around my ankles and the chair legs. She made all the straps tight enough to make sure I couldn’t escape, but also loose enough for my limbs to still move a little.

She went to the table one last time, and I watched as she carefully picked up a small needle and a fine-pointed knife. She walked over to my right side, the shot needle ready in her right hand. She reached out for my right wrist, and I let her take it. She held the thin needle to my skin, and I took a deep breath as she injected a yellow-brown liquid into my vein.

“Ugh…” I mumbled, leaning forward a little. The shot was extremely warm and stung as it entered my bloodstream.

The woman still held my wrist, and wiped the injection area with her index and middle finger quickly. She reached behind me a moment, and threw the empty shot onto a different table.

I leaned back in my seat and started to feel slightly light-headed. I felt a stinging sensation in my feet, and my vision started to blur. I grabbed the armrest with my left hand, again.

“This might hurt…” The woman faintly said. I tried to regain my vision and snapped my eyes into her direction. She speedily resituated her grip from around my wrist to the joint on my thumb. With the knife in her free hand, she carefully took it and somehow pried it under my thumb nail. Her grip on me tightened drastically, and my heart started to beat hysterically. She placed her index finger on top of my thumb, while holding the knife in place.

“Please…” My voice cracked out, but she ignored me.

With one sharp, swift movement, she ripped my nail off with the knife.

I screamed.

The lifeless, plain nail fell to the floor as blood practically spurted from where it had used to be. The woman quickly grabbed onto my wrist again as I desperately jolted my arm back. I threw my head back and closed my eyes. I couldn’t stop screaming.

My thumb throbbed with excruciating pain, distracting me from the woman’s next action.

Without me even noticing, she slowly dug the knife under the nail of my index finger. With a much slower effort this time, she tore off my second fingernail.

I screamed even louder.

My hand tingled and throbbed with pain, making her touch to my fingers and wrist almost numb and senseless. I started to feel extremely nauseous and dizzy, and I kept my eyes closed. Any last bit of strength left in my right arm had become useless; I had already given up trying to pull away.

My head was spinning and the pain only seemed to get worse. I began to feel as if I was just dreaming, like I could just wake up and it would all be over. Like nothing had ever happened.

But the pain was far too real.

“UH!” I yelled out, shooting my eyes wide open. The woman was no longer standing in front of me, but instead stood on my left side, holding another clipboard. She was writing steadily.

“A-” I cracked out, a surge of pain rushing from my fingertips. I looked down at my limp right hand. I fell silent, and I lost my breath for a long second.

Every single fingernail was gone, replaced with bleeding and swollen red fingertips.

I stared in shock and disbelief, tears burning in my eyes. I heard the woman walk around to my right side and rustle through objects on one of the tables. I didn’t look up at her.

She suddenly reached around and snatched up my right hand, appearing in front of me with yet another shot injection in her hand.

“NO!” I cried out at her.

She pulled my motionless arm in close to her body, and steadied the needle. She pressed the shot into the same spot she had before, ignoring my cries towards her.

I quieted when she carefully set my arm back onto my lap.

I observed her as she strode back to her clipboard.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

She continued to ignore me, writing more on her board.

“Why?” I repeated.

She finished taking her notes, and then made her way to the door without paying any attention to me. She began to reach for the door handle before I screamed out at her, again.

“WHY?”

She unexpectedly halted, and turned herself back around to face me. 

“Because…” She started, holding her arms out away from her body. She turned back around grabbed the door handle once again. She looked back at me from over her shoulder before finishing her statement.

“You’re our experiment.”