Week 2 - dreamshare catchall with Sandalphon

[fragileprophet]

[The week is filled with dreams.]

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1/2

[melancoffeea]

[You lack the concept of time. How long has it been since you were created? Months? Years, decades—perhaps even centuries? You don’t know. The days are constantly blurring together.

You snap your head up at the call of your name. Your stomach drops when you recognize the researcher, who beckons you over with a flick of his wrist. His detached eyes appraise you as he speaks to you in a cold, droning voice. It’s your turn.

Screams echo in the lab. Are they yours, or are they the anguished cries of the other self-aware subjects?

As always, you find yourself unable to comprehend what’s going on when the experiments begin. You cannot think. All you know is an intense, indescribable pain burning through every fiber of your being as your body is poked, prodded, churned inside out, and manipulated to the research team’s fancy.

Your overwhelmed mind begs for release, but it doesn’t stop. It never stops until the researchers decide that they’ve had their fill. You are powerless. So you endure, even if you happen to pass out in the middle of everything.

The researchers leave you to yourself once they finish playing with you, and you feel like a broken toy held together by a fraying thread. Amid the throbbing pain, your weary thoughts drift back to their usual place. Why are you here? For what reason do you exist in this hell? Will you ever be more than an object without a purpose, despite possessing self-awareness?

Your arms and legs tremble as they struggle to hold you up. Once you feel well enough to walk again, you wander the lab with heavy shoulders.

You walk.

And walk.

And walk.

Then you spot a flash of white in the distance.

A burst of excitement ignites in your core. You smile as you scuttle down the hall, all of your hurts forgotten.

“Lucifer!”]