Fragmented Echoes. Chapter 1: Undeground Hell

Act 2: Errors in memory.Part 4: Among the Traitors

When life gives you lemons, you burn its house down. When life gives you a gun, you have to feel lucky, punk. When life gives you a black latex suit that makes you look like a bitch with balls, you put a mask on and scream "I'm Batman." Spit blood if you can, but you will have to swallow. Yeah, it sucks. And when life gives you headaches - lots of headaches - and turns your shitty excuse of a life into some sci-fi comedy horror bullshit where you are the main clown that everyone trying to fuck as hard as possible for no reason... fuck you, life.

Another strong punch - right in my belly. Oh, at this rate, I'm gonna be vomiting my guts out in less than an hour... oh, and looks like I can't breathe that well. That bitch put this stupid gag on me. Now I can't say a word. That's a violation of my right to insult! And she's been torturing me for some time. Three - no, four hours maybe? Who knows.

My heads is cracking and screaming in pain. It appears that she's cutting open my wounds with sharpened knives and cauterizing them with a red-hot pipeline pipe or simply punching them until I stop bleeding. In short, my vitality is fucking amazing. She bashed my head in with a hammer, probably broke all my bones, and I'm still alive, conscious even, and capable of imagining her head bashed in! I can even see her in my mostly-dead state, too.

Glowing green eyes flicker on and off as her body convulses, sagging under the weight of its own weakness. A wheezing noise accompanies this unsightly movement, her breathing sharp and irregular - yet my ears have already grown accustomed to it. She takes a rusty separator and attempts to rip a hole in her chest with animalistic roar for the fifth time - and again, it heals within minutes. It's gottta have something to do with that bile-like gas coming fomr her mouth! And that look of it - her bleeding orifices, staggered breathing, surgical scars and implants, the plate skirt nailed to her hips with something rusty... that's gotta hurt.

Trying not to think about it, I attempt kick her, but it's no use. I'm pinned to the wall. Each of my limb is chained up - my arms, my legs, even my goddamn tentacles! I don't know how it got there, or why they chained me up, but I do know that it's uncomfortable as hell and I want out!

Her glowing eyes glare at me, illuminating the dim room, just enough for myself to spot a rusted adjustable wrench in her hand - useless for anything but face-smacking and torture. What's your name, lady? I'll need it so that I can mark the supcan I'll shove your remains in. Now come to me. I swear I won't escape using my octo form. Closer, so I can shove that piece of rust down your fucking throat.... Just a couple of steps more...

A new figure appears in the doorway.

"Intoxicator. Sister. The kids woke up again. Unless you want to walk dumb and deaf for another week - go and calm down those demons, won't ya? As for your little pet..." He pointed at me. "...let him live for now. Maybe Doc would be interested in another subject for vivisection or whatever."

She turned to him with a strangely wolf-like whine.

"Blame the Machine for turning innocent children into monsters like us."

He kicked the door open and left. The "Intoxicator" turned to me, drilling me with her emotionless yet eerie gaze - and walked away. But she stopped near the doorway and pressed something in her CQ-80, a voice coming out

"I'll be back...S̸͏͏̀͞c҉̸͘h͞҉̧̕͡w̶͏́͟e̷̵̡͟-Little pig."

And she ruined such a perfect line.... Well, fuck. I already forgot what I wanted to do with her. Great. Now what? I'm beaten up, wounded and chained to the wall. How the fuck am I even supposed to get out? It's not like one of my games where I can mash a button or input a cheat code. No, you need some real muscle and real skill here - neither of which I have. Well, at least I have my drooping head.