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Jun 25th, 2017
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  1. Saburo could feel very little, just the pushing and tugging of needles as they were taken in and out of numbed skin. The mask over his mouth and nose replaced his air with something stiffened his senses, so he hung there blankly, not aware of the bed that he was strapped to. His eyes were half-lidded and lightly misted over, his ears were filled with the sound of blood pumping until it was more like the pulse of the ocean's waves against the shore, though such a free concept was distant from his situation. Monitors beeped steadily, though his own life signs were starting to gain an ominous note, at least when he was aware of them, his heart keeping him alive was reduced to a measured since of high-pitched noises that rang in his head. He wouldn't have minded if it was quiet.
  2.  
  3. However, such a hope was demonstrably futile, a moment later, the mask was ripped off; the gas was scraped from him by the cold laboratory air, antiseptics and chemicals clearing his lungs with the sharpness of a scalpel. Nonetheless, he gasped, dragging in all the oxygen he could. Harsh voices cut into his head with equal force, and recovering his ability to sense the hollow light so quickly left shining blue-green scars over his eyes. He jerked roughly, determined to snap loose, but it was his attempt that was broken, instead. Someone rammed something into his head strongly enough to replace the remnants of light with black spots. He flinched, and allowed his reflex to spit out, “L-let go...”
  4.  
  5. “Shut up.”
  6.  
  7. It would be easier to control himself if he had seriously believed in his chance of escape, but since he had none, speaking up wouldn't hurt him any more than everything else already did. He expected the next blow, the throbbing that spoke eloquently of his captors' intent, but he had no reason to listen to a message when he already knew it was true. Cleverness wouldn't gain him anything. His sense of time had been more drastically obscured than all his others, though this was mostly a result of being so often dulled to the world around him, and he had no concept of how long he had been kept here for, but it was long enough to have attempted escape several times. All of them useless. It wasn't so much that he ran out of ideas, he could have made more, but with such little time to rest or even simply refresh himself in some basic way, he was held in a sluggish state.
  8.  
  9. His arm was wrenched up, nearly out of its socket, but thankfully the rest of him followed before that could happen. His legs shook underneath him; they had made him run, earlier. An endurance test, nothing more, a relatively easy thing. If he tried to stop, well, there had been electricity involved. Eventually, once the brilliant shock was reduced to a paper cut's sting by his exhaustion, they had brought him to this room, and started filling him with chemicals that clawed in his stomach and burned in his limbs. Nothing he wasn't used to by now, but the familiarity somehow made it more difficult.
  10.  
  11. The door to the room swung behind him as he was pushed out, his wrists encircled by brightly polished steal cuffs. For some reason, the frosted metal made him shiver from something other than cold, and it was one of the few recent sensations that made him feel less detached, so he was almost grateful for it. It called a buzz of resilience along his spine, and he knew he had yet to give out completely, rewarding himself with his own thin smile.
  12.  
  13. Unfortunately, a more sour look was drawn up when he saw them take a new corridor, not one that lead to the room with his cage in it. He shook his head to himself. Ah, no, the cage he'd been forced to stay in, that was a better way to think of it. In this place, he soon gathered the knowledge that a cage was better than something unknown, however, and even if it meant he had no choice but to recognize that the cage was the only place for him now, he would rather be there.
  14.  
  15. The white-coated figure who had been escorting him snatched his shoulder, shoving him up in front of a new door, one with bars and an electric lock. It sprang open, and his handcuffs sprang off, but before he could run, that same firm grip pushed him through . The door closed neatly, without a sound, and he didn't bother turning to pound for release. Instead, he focused on what was in front of him now. A small, green creature, marked out by a fin atop his head and fierce teeth bared in a dark frown.
  16.  
  17. “Well... You're here... Finally. It took a really long time,” Pirarah snapped, irritated.
  18.  
  19. “Ah...?” Saburo murmured, then added more loudly, “Well, if you were waiting for this, care to explain the situation to me?”
  20.  
  21. “Sure,” the hybrid agreed. “I've never seen you fight before, Saburo. Not without something or someone to help you. Have you ever had to deal with anything on your own before?”
  22.  
  23. “Of course.” A surprised blink, and Saburo stepped away.
  24.  
  25. Pirarah uttered a soft growl in response. “I've never seen it, but I will now.” He sprang for the Pekoponian, who managed an initial dodge, but Pirarah was so much more agile, and he had changed directions and shredded Saburo's leg with his teeth before the human could act against it. His mouth opened, but it seemed that there was too much blood coming out of him for any noise to follow. He merely sank fluidly to his knees, as if boneless. His hands found the ground clumsily, and a pool of redness flowed around them before long. Pirarah dived into him, bowling Saburo over with the necessary power to drive the limp body into the wall, as well as crack something noisily. He was dizzy, pale, pained, didn't have enough room in his head for anything more than fragments. Heat from his leg leaked into the rest of him as the blood flowed out, burning.
  26.  
  27. “...I... wh-what did...” He said weakly, wishing to at least understand something about this, but the Keronian lashed out at his jaw.
  28.  
  29. “Haven't you learned by now? You aren't allowed to talk. You don't get to say things anymore... You need to work if you want to speak!” Claws viciously hooked thin lines across the bows torso, but these were too have any major influence, outside of more burning that he hardly registered now.
  30.  
  31. “N-no...” He clenched his eyes shut, placing a hand over the claw marks as if he could hold himself together that way, and he was far enough out to entertain the possibility that it might work.
  32.  
  33. “Yes. “The last experience he received before his consciousness gave out was that fist ramming into his jaw again, and then he was gone from there.
  34.  
  35. ----------------------
  36.  
  37. His awareness returned in a cramped space with bars crisscrossing the opening. The crisp clarity of the metal was almost refreshing, for though it held him back, it at least broke the pattern of the painful, deceptive white brightness. He moved to uncurl his stiff limbs and shake the sleep off them, but his leg clenched sharply. He reached down, his fingers finding rough bandages. The injury underneath protested even that slight touch angrily, and he slowly became conscious of the scratches aching on his chest, along with a few other bruises. He closed his eyes very lightly, making an attempt to relax and ignore all of it. The thought of regret at waking up following that battle, regret that this hadn't ended then, did not enter his mind in the slightest. He saw no reason to cut himself off, and if he died, then he would never really be rid off this; the concept of this place becoming the last piece of his life was distinctly unappealing. However, that was more than likely what would happen, and in fact, it seemed as if it would be happening now.
  38.  
  39. “Saburo, get up.” Another white clad being strode up in front of the cage, clanging the door open and pulling him out without providing time to actually comply with the order. He stumbled out, a soft cry slipping free with him as his leg was forced to accept the weight.
  40.  
  41. “You've been observed for long enough, but there's nothing else for us to do,” The scientist continued, staring at him with cold blue eyes from his own face, framed by silvery hair. Saburo's heart all but stopped, he believed it did skip a beat, and an amusement as sour as bile claimed him, making the rest of his mind distant. Naturally, after everything, he was going to be led off to his probable last moments by himself. He may not have wanted them, but he definitely didn't have any say in the matter. This was only fitting, anyway, if he lacked whatever was needed to escape, then of course, no one other than himself was responsible for his situation. He sighed shakily, and the silver-haired scientist chuckled. “We're just going to have to see what's inside that makes you as useless as you are.”
  42.  
  43. He froze completely, though he couldn't stop as he was still being dragged along down an increasingly blacker hallway. “W-why do you even care, at that point?” Here was another source of uncertainty, the sheer fright that this stirred in him, and he had honestly no idea where these next words came from, but he was fairly sure that they connected to whatever he couldn't recall. “You've already seen everything... and t-taken it, too...”
  44.  
  45. He was so adjusted to being pushed through doors now that he had almost forgotten that he could open them himself, so it surprised him when he was prompted to do just that. He was being given no option aside from getting himself into whatever mess this would be, clearly, and the door opened with a surprisingly literal indication of a particularly grotesque mess. Unlike the unreal clean scent that held the air here captive, this room didn't bother to disguise itself, and the scent of both old and fresh blood floated mercilessly out. He was directed by himself to a table, shoved and buckled down as always, and then his scientist-self left, leaving him in the murky atmosphere.
  46.  
  47. “Ku ku... You kind of let me down, to be honest. How annoying~” A starkly yellow figure drifted over on a hoverpad, lowering himself down over Saburo. “But oh, well! At least this might be a little more satisfying.”
  48.  
  49. “K-Kururu...” His shocked eyes were wide for a moment, but then a more nervous fear replaced that, and he smiled, though he could not arrange any trace of sincerity in it. “Hey... what are you up...?”
  50.  
  51. “...Vivisecting you, of course.” Kururu's glasses caught on the few scraps of light in the room, and though his tone resonated with a deep seriousness, his smile was purely insane.
  52.  
  53. “...ah... that's a bit...” Saburo surreptitiously squirmed, his wrists twisting as he worked once again to free himself.
  54.  
  55. “Now, stop that.” Kururu spotted his efforts easily, of course, Saburo had not really expected anything else. He laughed, though his was an empty sound, and the Keronian continued. “Saburo, you're just going to have to deal with this, though in this case, that just involves getting sliced open~” A scalpel was waved into view, and the Keronian lowered himself further. The blade's edge was rested atop Saburo's chest.
  56.  
  57. “No... K-Kururu... don't... just please... We've done some c-cool stuff before, right? W-we can do more...” Even now, he would have liked that. More than anything, he would have loved to spend time with his wave buddy again; to hang out on the school roof in silence that would only break under the occasionally presented thought, and then the offering of an opinion in return; to just play a game of checkers.
  58.  
  59. “Kukuku, that's just silly. I'll do cool stuff with you, I think, but I don't really need you anymore for it!” Kururu smirked, and cut into the Pekoponian, merely pressing the scalpel under the skin to begin with. Saburo screamed, because for once, the knowledge that it would come and the resolve to deal with it and his acceptance of the situation was not enough to hold his calm in place. “DON'T, STOP IT... K-KURURU...” He squeezed his eyes shut like a child, and then everything scattered beyond his ability to recognize it.
  60.  
  61. ----------------
  62.  
  63. His sense reformed themselves in the soft, gentle light of his bedroom, now surrounded by gentle silence and warm blankets. However, he couldn't say that he felt any better, for the moment.
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