Loud. Screams. Stench. Blood. Then. Silence. Black.


3. Prologue


THE ROOM WAS COLD. But she was hot. A sticky layer of sweat filming itself over her skin. Random pieces of hair attaching themselves to the dampness that covered her face. Her clothes clinging to her body, as a toddler would to it's mother. The air was thin, like paper. The only noise she could hear, was the sound of her own heart, beating slowly, but heavy. Her breath leaving her lips in short, thick pants. Her eyes felt heavier with each blink she took. She didn't know how long she had been standing there, her guess? hours. But it had only been minutes. 

The life that once took place in the cell-like room, the laughs, the chatter, the warmth. Gone. 

She did it. They did it. They made her do it. Again. and Again. and Again. 

It felt like a time loop. So familiar, but each place, each person, different. It's like a carousel. She couldn't get off. 

So they made her forget. Again. and Again.

And every time she remembered. The slightest memory. They took it. Tore it away.

She wasn't a person. She was a being. A puppet. A weapon. 

She was theirs. 

And she knew it.

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