literature

Sessions

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

When was this going to end? Clearly not soon enough. She could feel the force of each tremor in her pounding heart crushing her already fragile mind. Sweat had long kept her eyes sealed shut, though she could clearly envision the corners of his mouth turn into a sickening grin past her own heavy, tired panting.
Her body felt as though it were on fire, despite the deliberately-chilled slab they had her strapped to. The trail of blood leaking from her nose to the soiled bib they had pinned to her gown had become noticeably thickened over the endless hours that struggled to crawl by. And with each exhausted protest as her experimenter dove yet another series of wires into her flesh to monitor her progress, she refused to scream. At least while in a conscious state.

"Again, Howl." The intrigued voice beyond the intercom commanded. The man to which it belonged allowed a deep chuckle escape into the static before lifting his finger from the button.

She ground her teeth, choking back the tears that persistently burned. As the command had been given, another nameless captive was wheeled in, arms and legs chained to a sterling stretcher. They never arrived already unconscious for her, oh no, she had to wait for the Doctor to put them out. He relished in it as well; humming a disgustingly-clotted tune in his throat, taking an excruciating amount of time to bask in their panic. She couldn't tell which of the two were having the most fun.

This one, thankfully, seemed to have lost his ability to speak out of fear, only able to mutter incomprehensible whispers as he was rolled right alongside her; she was beginning to grow tired of hearing the same series of questions rambled from her fellow lab-rats and for an instant, she was about to ask that they hurry this along. A very pointed surge across her temples quickly dissipated this thought, however. How many more were they going to send in for her? Surely by now they must have run out of prisoners.

The Doctor, finally injecting the anesthetic into the proper vein as he had for the umpteenth time this evening, quickly scurried across the lab to examine an array of monitors, each flashing a different, brightly-colored and extraordinarily complex reading of the Interrogator and her newest, now-unconscious subject.

"You may be'gin vhen rheady," he coughed, flicking a switch that sent a needle-like current into her skull from the discs glued to either side of her forehead.

She wasn't going to scream.

'Concentrate on the task at hand, not going to scream. Not going to scream. Never going to give him the satisfaction.'

Finding this transparent shred of solace in the Warden's frustration at her succession in remaining calm granted her heavy breathing a moment to shallow, slowly beginning to match the pace of her sleeping neighbor. Soon, but not without considerable effort, she found herself able to push out the distractions around her, the sounds of their breath in unison becoming the only echo in her mind.

The connection was just beyond her grasp, only a few seconds more and--

"What is taking you so long, Howl? I should think you'd be able to do this lickity-split by now!"

Her eyes flew open, though before she could search around to fire a glare in the direction of the grotesquely-smug voice, the current fed into her jolted at the abrupt halt of her focus, forcing them shut once again.

She swallowed past the blood caking her searing throat, her cracked lips splintering into a crooked smile.

"I like to-- take my time-- practicing-- how I'm going to-- kill you." She managed to creak an encrusted laugh before attempting to regather her strength.

"Now, if you'll-- excuse me."

She didn't have much longer before the anesthetic wore off, and were that to happen before she could complete the second step, her subject's mind would be of no use. He would still make her kill him regardless, if he had not already died in the process.

Another half hour passed by, another glimpse at a connection, this one surprisingly visible to her beyond a quivering body and nearly-shattered mind. It was right there in front of her, a door amidst the protective darkness blanketing the poor man's thoughts. She could just about touch it, and reaching out as far as her fingers would stretch, she opened it.

As soon as her fingertips connected with the fabricated wood, the blackness instantly gave way into swirling cascades of images and voices, each one as beautifully intricate as the next. Everything the young man had experienced in his life, even what his subconscious was sketching now were as particles floating in a beam of light, she only had to glance at one and in that second, his interpretation was sprawled before her, she could even pluck it right from the current in which it flowed, and place it in any of the streams she came across. She had arranged an eternity's worth of lives this way.

Waving her palm to flit past the dust-like clouds containing his childhood, adolescence, and young-adulthood, she happened upon something rather interesting.

In the outside world of her current tangible reality, rapid reflections gleamed from amber glasses covering a maniacal expression of glee as the Warden glazed over the images displayed on his screen. He glanced through the one-way mirror, counting down the seconds until her will to keep silent broke. Already her face had begun to contort in agony.

Because she had no need to write down what she saw in these particular 'sessions' as they were called, she could put all of her effort into separating each memory, rather than expending a portion of her trance to command her hand to record her visions.

She paused, holding a speck of the man's life between her pinched fingers, and upon examining it, she found this to be the man's dream of something tearing through his thoughts; a ravenous, deep-red and eye-less creature with elongated, jagged limbs, each ending in a set of hooked, royal-blue claws howling cries enough to instil the fear of excruciating death from sound alone as it dug and shred through the man's dream-self.

She could feel a warm sensation trickling from her nose; her time was running out.

In that moment, the speck she held crackled for a split-second, then burst into thousands of sparkling shards that disappeared into the darkness behind; the image before her of the deep-red creature and it's shrieks had become a silent canvas of white, perfect to paint something new onto. She touched another speck, the same happened again. Contact from her fingertips to the particles enacted waves of tiny explosions, each disintegrating into nothingness, and each leaving in their place a vast expansion of pristine, sterile surfaces.


She paused again, feeling herself cry out in pain, though she had not made a sound. There was no time left to break her trance and rest a moment, though she was in great need of it. She had to fill this hollow with an entirely new life before the empty shell next to her own gently-seizing body awoke. Could she possibly manage this in one take? Especially after the countless hours they had already been working her; she could feel exhaustion tormenting her physical form outside her concentration, and hear the resulting gasps, though she could do no more to hold them back than she already had.

Placing a gentle touch onto the clean surface of the man's mind, a bright and vivid explosion of color and noise swept across its surface, expanding and expanding until it reached the end of the memory and those relating around it, covering corner to corner with one fabricated experience out of hundreds. This particular memory was the most vital of all; the young man's unabashed decision to serve the Warden in his cause.

Her stomach wretched.

Playfully twisting a dial to adjust the incoming volume, the Warden gleamed at the sight of her slowly-breaking body. How long would it take her this time to give him the pleading he had so desperately been trying to rip from her? Noting the time on the clock, they had been at this for a little less than nine hours. Had he not grown to be so beside himself at her silent persistence, he would have abandoned this frivolous task not minutes after it began.

'Hurry up, Penna...' She whispered against a wall of white.

In her haste to finish within the rapidly-diminishing time allotted to her, she had completed more than half of this never-ending chore, though the sharp gasping for release echoing from the outside had begun to sound more like the hollow breathing of the howling creature. Even in her trance she was beginning to feel the weight of her expended body dragging her pace down. This was not good. She only needed to place a few more, just a few more and she was done. With this one, at least.

'You're almost done... don't scream. You can't. Don't even dare.'

She outstretched her hand, finding the distance between herself and the memory-less sheet to be unbearably un-reachable. She inched closer, and that much further did it seem to float away. Her focus was slipping, and she could now hear not only her struggle to remain quiet on the outside, her subject's cacophonous attempts at self-preservation we're beginning to break through her trance-induced barrier. If she followed this any farther, she could risk the ability to break herself free.

'Not yet...'

Propping his feet on his desk, the Warden sighed complacently, twisting the dial as he had earlier to fill his room with the bellow erupting from his caustic, pathetic Interrogator. Nearly ten hours he had been watching this, a little longer than he would have liked, but oh did he find her faulty defiance amusing.

Within every form of herself, both her mental projection and her physical body could she feel his smile burn into her flesh from behind his safe little window. The canvas she had fruitlessly been chasing suddenly disappeared, and all around her, those she had implanted new memories onto quickly followed. The sea of brand-new colors and voices were soon swallowed up by the blackness that had once protected them, one right after the other. There was nothing she could do to stop this, the man's mind had finally collapsed. And if she couldn't wake herself soon, she too would be consumed as well.

A screen monitoring the man's heart had begun screeching frantically, his body continued to seize out of nervous reaction to the intrusion. Penna's face had become as white as the walls she created her masterpieces onto, apart from the darkening river of blood freely flowing from her nose. Her arms and legs fought to break loose from the restraints holding her to the slab, though her thrashing could not be heard over the sound of her chilling pleas of release.

'Wake me up... You still need me... Wake me up you bastard! This is what you wanted, now wake me up!'

The Doctor arose from his seat and casually sauntered his way to the tray containing various anesthetics, tranquilizers and smelling-salts.

"I do not believe she is finished yet, Doctor."

"Herr, ve should prhobably rhevive her soon; she has lost q'vite a lot of blood." The aging physician commented halfheartedly, offering a shrug of his shoulders.

"She is not finished yet, Doctor."

'Wake me up... Wake me up...' The darkness crept closer and closer to her, and there was nowhere safe to run in the dying prison holding her captive.

Her lips formed a single, hushed word as her body froze. "P...lease."

"Now, she is finished, Doctor."

The Doctor uncorked a vial of rosy-pink, potently-powerful gravel and held it arm's-length under Penna's nose. In seconds, her eyes flew open. She collapsed onto the slab, overcome with an insatiable need to inhale gulps of air, not caring if they were harsh and burning her already scorched throat.

"My, my goodness Howl, that was quite a performance. Shall we try again?"
So after having a complete fangasm over the premier of Season 3 last night, I sort of remembered that I enjoyed writing about FWardy and Penna being assholes to one another. This isn't as lighthearted as the others with these two have been, and I have been dying to put into words what Penna sees when she enters a mind. I'm hoping this has painted a proper picture to compare with my description.

Also, I am having serious doubts of the canon of my WardenxMissy fic. I mean, seriously Warden... A condom-poodle? /srsly
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VoltaliatheMajestic's avatar
I still think Warden x Mistress will work.