The voice couldn't do anything. There was no power to be had in his own soul, no control. Whatever was there merely was and he happened to own it. There was nothing to be done as they moved further and drew upon that thing his mind had only moments ago tried to shove away.
It was bright. The lights were always on, no sense of time or day, and everything was just muted at the edges. Not enough. Never enough. He was opened up, cruel plier-like devices holding his skin and bone away before it could reform. Someone was at his side, digging around and prodding every which way they could imagine. It was carte blanche as long as they recorded what they found. This one was methodical, rough and uncaring. Cain had lost the energy to scream ages past; everything was soaked in pain just before the release of numbness. He was strapped down, unable to even shift and possibly throw the scientist off in what he was doing.
There was medication in his veins, possibly the only reason he was still so docile. Things were blurry but there and he hated every minute of it. Most of all because there was worry clawing at the back of his mind amidst the anguish and torture, a pain that had nothing to do with the hands reaching inside of him.
cw: images of torture
The voice couldn't do anything. There was no power to be had in his own soul, no control. Whatever was there merely was and he happened to own it. There was nothing to be done as they moved further and drew upon that thing his mind had only moments ago tried to shove away.
It was bright. The lights were always on, no sense of time or day, and everything was just muted at the edges. Not enough. Never enough. He was opened up, cruel plier-like devices holding his skin and bone away before it could reform. Someone was at his side, digging around and prodding every which way they could imagine. It was carte blanche as long as they recorded what they found. This one was methodical, rough and uncaring. Cain had lost the energy to scream ages past; everything was soaked in pain just before the release of numbness. He was strapped down, unable to even shift and possibly throw the scientist off in what he was doing.
There was medication in his veins, possibly the only reason he was still so docile. Things were blurry but there and he hated every minute of it. Most of all because there was worry clawing at the back of his mind amidst the anguish and torture, a pain that had nothing to do with the hands reaching inside of him.
Get out. Get out.
Get out.