Deathly Symmetrical

{20} The Not-So-Clear Truth

The image was a blur, but it felt like whoever it was trying to help her was freaking out because of something irrelevant to the situation. The person jolted up and ran from here, to find help most likely, and Eevee heard them say in an irritated voice to stay put and not to go anywhere. Like she could really go anywhere when this badly hurt, but the person didn't seem to be focusing all that much on the wounds. They were of minor importance because either they weren't severe enough to cause any real dame if left untreated, or they were too severe to deal with if she was going to die from them any way. Why waste time on them if those were the options.

“What do we have here?” a deeper, older voice that belong to a man came from above Eevee. “I've found a little lab mouse that's lost her way to her test tube. . .heading to the other side no doubt.”

Eevee kept her eyes closed as she heard the man kneel down beside her and run a hand through the strands of hair covering her face. The hand quickly drew back once the stand were removed and her could clearly see her face, her large brown eyes looking at him curiously as well with irritation for being carelessly touched.

“You only have a few hours,” he few smoke on her face making her cough and causing her body to scream in pain. Her ribcage was were it hurt her the most, the arms and legs were just simply cut of bruised. “You have six broken ribs,” the man said as Eevee cringed from the touch he was giving her ribs. “And many other things that your body won't handle that easily. Too much blood spilled, for one, and a slight concussion.”

Eevee wanted to slap his hand away from her head, but at the small movement she made to get up everything swirled around her and she fell back. Her head, she had noticed for the first time, was hurting and it was starting to hurt more now that she had hit head head on the floor. The man hadn't bothered to catch her when she had fallen back.

“You're the one that didn't want to be touched.” was he reading her mind? “Stay still, close your eyes, and fall asleep so you can die a fast and painful death—then I can dissect you. . . no. No, that's not right. A live subject is a more perfect subject, even if you're still a child. Then again, I always wondered if one of Sabrina's children was. . .”

Eevee was loosing consciousness quickly as her head began to pound, her stomach began to feel like it was coming up. She didn't understand what was going on anymore and the man was turning into something scary. His features didn't make sense. His face was twisted and had a sowed scar on it. From the top of his head, he had been twisting it as he spoke, was a large screw sticking out. He was grinning at her as she closed her eyes, in one hand her throat, the other held a scalpel.

That day had been the beginning of hell, depending on the point of view of the person; it had been the first day Eevee had ever laid eyes on Stein, her doctor as Madam had drilled into her head after that incident, and things didn't get any better when she entered Shibusen and had been placed under his care by orders of Lord Death. Stein had been ecstatic for two things, one: she had not died, though Eevee had forgotten she was at death's doorstep, two: he had a live subject for experiment, which he of course didn't tell Lord Death about.

Eevee woke up in the infirmary, much to her dislike toward the place and the nurse in charge, and looked solely at the roof above her. She had forgotten about that day, most of that day that is. Her memories seemed to pick and choose which will be the ones to stay in head head while the other have a pajama party of the very back of her mind where the sun light couldn't reach. They were drinking, those underage bastard, they were living it up back there like there was no freaking tomorrow. Now that she had gotten to those memories after a couple of years of there partying, their damn hangover was killing her.