One day, I awoke from what seemed to be a long slumber. Upon opening my eyes, a ray of blinding light fiercely greeted me. I averted my gaze by instinct, however the sudden movement made me realize the very situation that I was in. Both my arms and legs were chained in place. In fact, this bed that I was laying on was actually a table made of metal. I tried lifting my hands, frantically trying to break free, but it proved to be of no use.
“Finally! You’re finally awake, Number Eight!”
A man loomed over me as he wore a smile that made my heart race. He seemed happy, excited to see my eyes that were looking at him in terror. I tried to question him about his identity and his intentions but strangely, my voice wouldn’t come out.
“Number Eight! It’s a success!”
“The potion, it works! Your eyes! They’re back!”
“Hm? You seem confused.” He said, holding his chin.
“Ah yes, that last potion did have that kind of side effect.”
Last potion...? What does that mean?
“Perhaps, this will jog your memory.”
As he said those words, he reached out to a table beside him and grabbed a jar that held a red colored liquid. Inside, was a pair of eyeballs floating intricately. Anxiety filled my state of consciousness. My head suddenly began to hurt as my heart was rapidly beating. Broken memories and vague images of when my eyes were gouged out barraged my mind. I trembled, breaking out in cold sweat.
“Well, not that it matters.” He said, just as he chuckled placing the jar back onto its original location.
“What matters is, YOU’RE ALIVE!”
His smile was genuine. He was sincerely happy of my survival and yet the only feeling that it sent me was a chill down my spine telling me to run away.
“You’re really interesting, Number Eight.” He said, approaching me.
I have to…
“You just won’t die no matter what I do to you.”
“I wonder, what makes you so different from the others?”
All my senses were telling me that this man was dangerous. Yet, I couldn’t do anything. Relaxed, he then proceeded to touch my face and caressed my eye gently with his cold fingers. My heart was beating too fast. Without thinking, I instinctively bared my teeth and bit off his thumb.
He screamed, as he held his hand in dire state, and flailed around the room to look for something. The taste of lead cleared my mind. I spit his finger out just as he finished pouring what might be a healing potion over his injury.
Then, he sighed.
“It seems that…” he said, reaching for a syringe, “…you have also forgotten how to be disciplined.”
“Here, let me remind you of what happens when a rat dares to fight back.”
With the needle pierced on my wrist, he injected a liquid-like substance through my veins.
“Nothing beats pain, after all.”
As soon as he said those words, I felt my throat getting burned. The pain crawled to my heart, my abdomen, until it reached every inch of my body. It was like I was thrown into hellfire. It felt as if I was melting inside-out, down to my very bones.
Ah... I remember now.
It’s been over a year since I met him. This man, who is gleefully watching me suffer, was the one that found me. From his introduction when I first gained consciousness in this room, he referred to himself as a genius alchemist. His name, in which I was supposed to be honored to know, was Asier Kaliya.
How I ended up here, and my life before that, remains a mystery.
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