New story! Woo!

Warning: this story has some darker themes. There will be some physical, psychological and somewhat brutal situations.

Enjoy!

He drags me across the cold concrete and I fight to keep conscious. My entire body throbs painfully but that isnt new. Pain is gaurenteed around here.

I focus on the ground and the trail of blood following me, my blood. I don't know where it came from, I'm not sure if I even care. Not when I'm stuck in this trance.

It's an indescrible feeling. It's like I'm being pulled out of my body. It's like the fire to live is being torn out of me. My spirit wanes away with my bones. I feel broken, split in half.

I glance up at The Guard, the man dragging me, and he harshly pulls me to my feet. The narrow door creaks as it opens and he shoves me into a tiny room. I don't bother to catch myself and hit the ground hard. I groan.

Well, cozy as ever I guess.

"Don't get comfortable. I'll be back in a minute." The Guard speaks quickly. Then he turns on his heel and leaves me alone with the darkness.

I shiver, more from the lingering atmosphere of fear than the cold. There was a time when I hated being afraid, I pretended to be strong and brave. But that's stupid, why be what you aren't? I'm always terrified.

I know my mind is deteriorating. I can't remember my life outside of this place. I can't tell you who I am or who I used to be. I don't even know my name or where I came from. My entire past has faded out of existence. That's the worst part of going crazy, when you feel it happening before you're too far gone.

This used to scare me but not anymore. Now I am numb. I've been in here for so long I've learned the golden rule on suffering, get used to it.

I don't deserve to have a past anyways, I don't deserve to be someone.

I don't fight the Colors anymore. I can't, even if I want to. There are times I still scream and cry out, but I don't know who I'm crying for. I'm not sure who I want to hear me. Why do I still bother? I don't know.

I look down at the blood leaking from the unknown. I always seem to be covered in blood. It's honestly shocking that I have survived this long. I have lost so much of everything, perhaps that's why I'm so weak.

Sometimes I wish I would die. Everyday I wake up to whispers in my mind, aching for death. The same thoughts plague my soul every minute of every day. Wouldn't it be nice if the pain and torment went away? Wouldn't it be nice if all of this stopped?

What I am holding on for?

I think I had a family once. Sometimes I dream about them, I catch glimpses of colors and laughter, but when I wake they vanish and take the peace away. They must not have cared where I went, they must have left me here with the Colors. Is it because I am worthless? Because I am nothing? I rub my fingers along my tormented wrists and have an urge to cut them, to feel the blood drip down my arms. I itch for the satisfying ice of a blade digging into my wrist.

I am alone.

Maybe I should just give up. Maybe it's time for me to give up.

My eyes close and my body gives into sleep. I remember when I would stay awake for as long as I could, crying and screaming for hours on end. I don't anymore. Now I am silent, partners with the darkness. Now I only scream when the Colors command it.

I welcome sleep. Maybe this time, I won't wake up. Sleep doesn't hurt; it's the only thing in my pathetic life that doesn't hurt. Perhaps I'll dream of them, my family I mean. I wish I could remember their faces, their voices. Maybe if I did it would give me hope, it would give me a reason to hold on to life.

But I am tired of this. My body is broken and my spirit is fading. How long have I been here? How long have I suffered? How long have do I have left? I don't know. There is only one thing I am clearly aware of, I am going to die. It's going to happen soon, I can feel it.

I shut my eyes tight. Would it be such a terrible way to go? In my sleep? I don't think so.

My breathing slows as my consciousness begins to fall away.

Yet...there is something unexplainable inside of me. A spark, a burn. I don't know how or why, but a part of me is aching to live. Courage, that's what's festering within me. I'm these past couple of weeks, days, or maybe just a few hours, I don't know when, but the need to survive is burning.

I didn't notice the door of my cell opened, but I am painfully aware that someone is suddenlyhere with me. I raise my head and only see a vauge outline.

I'm pulled harshly to my feet once more and my legs groan in protest. I look up and expect to see The Guard. Instead, I see Purple.

Purple.

Something snaps within me. A quick switch that turns on emotions. Pain, fear, scream.

Not Purple. Not now, please. No.

I hiss and cry out at the sight of him. I am supposed to scream. I'm supposed to be afraid, and afraid I am.

He ignores my cries and shoves me forward.

I know fear, so much fear. So much pain. I hear a loud howl rip from my throat and it echos against the dark cell. The walls look away as I am shoved out of the room, it's hard to watch.

Purple shoves me down the hall towards a dark purple room with a single bright light. A room I have come to loathe so intensely. I used to fight against him, refusing to let him hurt me. Now I accept that I am going to feel excruciating agony. I see Purple and it seeps into me, possessing me of fear and pain. It dominates my body. I let it happen because I can't remember how to stop the fear, not when I see Purple.

Purple insists upon my compliance, my stillness.

I am broken.

The fire to live vanquishes.

I am broken.

I cannot fight.

I am broken.

Purple roughly throws me on a table and straps me down, my legs and arms are held back with chains. A thick, rubber like band wraps around my head and holds it still. I can't see where he is or what he is doing.

He sighs,"What toy should we use today?" I can hear him rummaging through items. "Hmm...Oh! This is a fun one!"

I hear his boots thump against the floor slowly, prolonging my anxiety. He hovers the instrument above me, it resembles an oddly shaped ladle. The top is round and closed with small holes poked all over.

My stomach turns, no, please! I want fight back. Yet I can't, I see Purple and my fate is set.

Scream.

Pain.

Fear.

"Ah yes, you remember this one don't you? It's an old torture tool used throughout the medieval ages called the Lead Sprinkler. It is such a beautiful relic is it not? I think I am rather enjoying this one of late. It makes me feel," he gestures with his free hand as he contemplates the right word, "connected, with my human roots. We were such violent creatures then." He shuffles away from me. I hear him fumbling with hot liquid and my heart twists in my chest. "Well, nothing has changed. Not really."

A whimper escapes from my lips as I hear his footsteps approaching once again. His steps keep time with my erratic beating heart.

"Oh no no, shhh, hush now." He mutters softly. "This is going to hurt, you should save the whimpering for then." He smirks.

He hovers the device above my skin and shakes it lightly. I can't see with my head strapped down, but I can feel. God, I wish I couldn't. Liquid rains onto my skin and boils my flesh. Numerous parts of my body screech out and ripple with torment. My legs, my arms; He sprinkles the sweltering hot liquid all over. I can't breathe the agony is too great. Pain rips through my body and I squirm. The hot searing eats away and I ache for escape. I try to shake it off but moving makes it worse. Still, I can't stop jerking. The liquid drips down my body horrendously slow, cooking my flesh.

The chains holding me down cut into my skin as I push against them. I've felt this before.

Scream.

Pain.

Fear.

It's too much. I suck in a breath when it runs down my legs; digging through layers and layers, searching for bones. I thrash against the chains.

"Yes, I definitely like this one." Purple laughs and dumps the burning liquid. My screeches echo around the room and vibrates off the Purple walls. They ring in my head, pulsing against the insides of my brain. My body flails against the blistering fluid; it does nothing but encourage my captor. It is too much. My entire body is shrieking for freedom.

It burns. It eats.

Scream.

Pain.

Fear.

Soon the operating table in the purple room with the Purple masked man fades to black. My mind goes blank as the tunnel of darkness slowly devours my sight.

Welcome to my Hell.

PLEASE REVIEW. I appreciate constructive criticism as well. Let me know what you all think C: