You're strapped down on some kind of metal table, flat against your back. The restraints are loose and you could probably rip them off if you really wanted to. It's frighteningly dark with two holes like eyes to filter in dim light, enough to let you see the walls around you are extremely close. Tight-fit like a coffin.

Your body feels like jell-O and your limbs tremble because they're weak. The metal beneath your back is freezing so you think that's why, not because your limbs have atrophied because you haven't used them in decades or something. Maybe you're too weak to rip off those restraints, on second thought.

Your chest feels heavy and every breath feels like it's underwater. You're not in pain, but it's uncomfortable. You feel a little heat somewhere beneath your ribcage and that feels good, at least there's one part that feels good.

"did it work?"

You hear a pensive voice from outside your coffin. The walls around you lift like they're part of some kind of machine, mechanical whirs blocking out any further conversation. There's more light and you blink, pupils constricting.

It's a beautiful view of the ceiling, but there's people to your left and right, so would you please look to the side so I can figure out what the hell is going on?

You loll your head to the left side like it's so much effort. The figure jumps a bit at the movement. Your eyes are unfocused. There's a pair of unprofessional sneakers on impeccably white tiled floor, with sweatpants and an incredibly baggy hoodie. Your head isn't positioned right to see their face. It ends up being okay, because they move in closer to fix that.

Their face is pure bone and no skin. A skeleton. Fantastic, you're underground in a circus of freaks. You can see the hesitation beneath his eyes, like you're some kind of Frankenstein creation just waiting to turn on its creator.

"I can't tell," a voice on your right side says, the one person that's completely out of your sight. He says he can't tell, but his voice drips with so much disappointment that he really means 'no.' "I checked the readings, but the soul has completely vanished. Without a human soul, we're back to square one."

The skeleton you're looking at sighs. His gaze has changed to pure dissappointment, since apparently you're a failure at whatever they wanted you to be. "i could feel it in my bones... thought for sure it would have worked. what should we do with this thing?" He gestures to you.

Haha. Skeleton puns. How funny. Except not. What a terrible joke, like jokes were even appropriate at this time.

Boney digits grasp your right arm, unstrapping you from the table. "Nothing, for now. Just leave it for tonight. Perhaps we'll learn more in later tests." The arms reach over to unstrap your other side, and you see the bones of another skeleton.

"you sure you don't want to keep that thing strapped in, doctor? wouldn't want it to get loose."

"It's just a doll, Sans. It only does whatever someone tells it to do. Even light but extended pressure could cause bruising."

The rest of your binds are released, and you're left motionless on the table. Skeleton Sans leaves your vision, the sound of two pairs of footsteps fading behind you. With a click, the dim light ahead shuts off. A door closes.

So you'll do whatever I tell you to do, huh.

Why don't you try sitting up?

You comply like the doctor said you would. Your whole body trembles just from the effort of sitting up, your form swaying unertainly. You're not dizzy, so is it just that you're really that pathetically weak? This is going to make getting down from the table, walking around, hell even escaping, pretty difficult.

You slide off the metal counter and completely lose your equilibrium, falling on your side and practically crushing your shoulder. Oh dear. You really do bruise easily, don't you. At least you have skin, real bone and flesh, real bone and flesh that was artificially created by those two skeleton scientists. Whatever.

I know our plan failed. I don't know why I'm still alive. Or can this even be considered living?

What? I wasn't including you in that 'our.' Don't worry about it. Leave the worrying to me. Nothing good can come from us staying here, so use your stubby little legs to get us out of here.

You manage to rise to your feet, nearly toppling over again at the effort. You stagger forward like a drunk who's hit the legal drinking age for the first time. The tile is cold and your feet make little smacking noises as artificial sweat sticks between skin and tile. You're only covered by a white gown, like one of those ugly patient gowns you see in the hospital. Maybe you should get some clothes before making that grand escape.

The room itself is too dark, but you stumble blindly towards where you heard the two leave. Eventually your blind hands feel a wall, and a doorknob, but before you turn that doorknob, there's a light switch next to it.

You flip the lightswitch on and turn back to assess the room. There's that table where you came from, the coffin-like machine gracefully created to look like a skull. Thick tubes are behind it, sinking into the wall into god knows where. Along the top walls, part of it is made of glass. You can't see anything past that but you think someone could observe without being in the room, if they really wanted. The room behind the glass is dark. You keep thinking that someone will show up there if you stare at it long enough, but no one comes.

You turn the lightswitch off again in case someone comes back. Opening the door, you step into a long hallway.

Now let's find some shoes, clothes, a knife, and get out of here.

Notes:

Idk what this is or will turn into (if anything) I just felt like writing it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
still it was a fun writing thing, hope you enjoyed it ;)