Warped

Chapter 13: Lukas

The other bindings are undone, but I don't move at all. Everything completely still, even my breaths light as no muscle twitches or shivers. Not even when the black demons grab ahold of my limbs and carry me off the table. I stay absolutely still.

"Make a note of that." I tense up at the devil's voice, but don't move at all as I'm carried out the door. "Not even a tremble, p-"

The door shuts but my ears quickly adjust and strain to continue listening. "-classified as a Tier 3.5. Subject 811 ocelot instincts and behavior are stronger than other Tier 3s. Maybe I should create a new class to..."

My stomach churns as I think about that, others. Other innocent people, without anyone to be strong for, forced through these experiments. Shivers run up and down my back as I enter a new room, but not afraid yet at what's going to happen to me.

But instead at what have happened to the 810 people who came before me. To the people who did go insane and try to kill themselves after the demented experiment. To the people who died, unable to even survive through that. To the people when these demons first learned how much to starve someone to make them survive, and the people who went through these before the demons started to numb or sedate.

I'm jolted back into the real world when they just drop my legs, holding my arms up. My claws slide out as I resist the urge to attack, the really tempting urge to attack. But instead, I let them chain my wrists to the chains hanging from the ceiling.

As I'm just kneeling here, I try really hard not to think about what's going to happen. That every moment that passes my body recovers more from the earlier tests. But such denial turns to ashes when I see the black men grab clubs from a table full of all kinds of different weapons.

Purely on instinct, I desperately try to back away from them. Only to find I don't even move a foot back, and that's when I realize that the chains do not hang all the way up to the ceiling. They instead are very short and hang from a metal rod that hangs from the ceiling.

The two demons approach, and I growl at them. They roll their eyes, we all know I'm completely powerless. Completely vulnerable to do anything when they raise their clubs. I can only be in complete fear as they bring them down on top of me.

"This is what you get for attempting to attack and kill us multiple times."

A strangled cry bursts out as my arms are hit. Throbbing when they get hit again, this time I try to jerk away from them. The chain tightening as my arms are hit again and again and again. A dull slapping beating my skin as the bones pulse in pain.

Over and over and over again they pound relentlessly against the two limbs. Totally ignoring every howl and cry I make, not even bothering to see all of my skin turning from red after the first dozen hits. Then fading into this pallid color as they endure beat after beat after beat. They never even slow down at all.

The arm that was tested earlier throbs in a fire, just burning. I yowl as they hit the area again, the bone's going to break if they don't stop. I cry frantically, attempting to form words to plea with them, but only a cat's screeching cries burst out.

And then they stop, long low yowls of pain emitting from my throat still. Panting, I focus at the real world. My eyes widen and I thrash and hiss, more desperate to escape when the two black demons put down their clubs. One of them cutting off my shirt, the fur bristling freely, the other grabbing leather whips.

"This is for hurting Brent."

They move behind me, and the bells of panic ringing relentlessly as one cracks the whip in the air. I try to brace myself for it, focusing on the bitter tang of salty sweat in my nose and-