The Cure To A Broken Mind

Chapter 16 ~ Take Another Bite

        I found myself watching my feet swing back and forth from the countertop- mindless thoughts overlaying others as the doctor made his way around the kitchen.

        To be such a neat freak afraid of disease and out to cure pestilence, he was surprisingly okay with the whole eating rotten flesh thing. It made me grimace just thinking about it. Surely he knew- surely he noticed how god awful all of this was.

        Before I really knew what was happening, or just how much time had passed, honestly- my name was brought back to attention.

        I glanced up, meeting the doctor's gaze. He had strode rather silently across the kitchen, having already pulled a chair out for me at the dining table. He was truly a devil in white- dashing good looks and the same laboratory clothing he'd worn during escape. It had never seemed so sinister, those puzzling spacey eyes a simple facade for the horrid, gory thoughts behind them. They said eyes were the window to the soul- but had he had one to begin with?

        Though, admittedly, he'd look much more welcoming if he had actually cleaned the clothes at least once upon arrival- the garments were just riddled with dirt from our misadventures outdoors and watered down blood stains he'd likely tried so prominently to wash out with sink water. Did he fucking shower in those clothes?

        I mean, hell, I had even changed my scratchy class D outfit for stuff I'd found around the cabin- it was a little big on me, but-

        "(Y/n)," he repeated, voice stern now as he watches.

        I'd been so lost in my own thoughts, I'd just been staring at him the last five minutes.

        "I'm sorry-" my voice came out a gentle mumble, lost, now, in the droning silence of the room. Quickly, now, I hopped up from the counter and joined the SCP at the table. I could feel my nerve pulsing a bit as I rather obediently, sat down at the chair he'd pulled out, clearing my throat now as he remained behind the chair.

        He lurched the chair forward to the table and leaned over the back, hot breath meeting the back of my neck and sending a shiver right up my spine.

        The doctor seemed to have that effect on me a lot, as of late.

        "I love you.." he murmured, low and soft as velvet as if he'd always been. Hauntingly, now, though. Silencing.

        "I love you too, doctor." I lied. Mostly, anyways. Somewhere I still wanted to be with him- be with the doctor- not Damian.

        I couldn't see his face from where I was, but near startlingly I felt him lean and press his lips up the nape of my neck- and could easily feel the smile plastered on his face. It honestly took all of my nerve to keep from shivering once more at the physical contact toward him.

        Eventually though, after what had only been seconds that felt like droning hours, he lifted from my form and turned for the counter again.

        He grabbed two bowls, sitting one in front of the empty chair across from me, sliding the other out toward me.

        The contents of the bowl were as expected- absolutely disgusting. In a way, though, it was almost like chili- the burnt and blackened dry blood in the human gumbo almost looked like spaghetti sauce- only, after you'd left it on the counter for a couple days. It was bubbly from the heat of being cooked- chunks of flesh and sloppy innards broiled in the heated blood- it was like nightmare soup or something.

        Hell, words couldn't possibly describe how surreal and morbid it had been. I just tried desperately to reassure myself that it seemed akin to thick, chunky tomato sauce.

        God, it smelled awful. God, it looked awful.

        God, this is awful.

        Slowly I averted my eyes back up to meet the doctors. He was watching me in what seemed almost like anticipation- this wobbly half smile playing on his lips. My heart nearly stopped.

        "It's good, I promise." he hushed, then sat down across from me. I cleared my throat and returned a small, forced smile, nodding before looking back to the mushy group in my bowl.

        Just as I was beginning to convince myself that it could have just been tomato soup with a little something extra, I remember that something extra was my own vomit. He was watching me, though. Waiting. It was likely he wasn't going to eat until he'd seen that I had. And the pressure was destroying me.

        I could feel his eyes on me as I looked down, drilling into my skull. The rock in my throat swelled up and my chest just ached with panic- it was hard to breathe suddenly.

        Did he know what I was doing? Had he seen me trying to dispose of the flesh? Did he know I wouldn't eat it?

        Surely, he was testing me. I could only imagine what he'd do to me if...

        I spooned a mouthful of the substance into my mouth.

        I almost hadn't even noticed I'd done it.

       The texture was completely distressing- thick and burnt- ground up like coffee mounds and squishy chunks like greasy pig fat or raw chicken breast-

        It was everything I hadn't ever wanted to feel in my mouth, but I swallowed it down anyways. It had been better the first time around- properly cooked- near impossible to tell what it was. But hell, all he'd done was put it in a bowl and heat it up like Chef Boyardee. Tears welled up a little now, but his smile was simply praising me.

        "It's not that bad, see?" he cooed- I wanted to yell that it was ten times worse, but I was on the verge of gagging again. My throat tightened up as I turned my head- covering my lips by my knuckles now as I struggled not to vomit again.

        "See, you're alright..." he smiled, speaking so devilishly smooth- he could see I was near throwing up- what was wrong with him??

        Suddenly, it seemed like he was back at my side, hand coiled around my wrist and guiding another spoonful to my lips.

        "Take another bite..." he coaxed.

        And perhaps I had opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Not a single sound.

        So I braced my gut.

        Closed my eyes.

        And took.

        Another.

        Bite.