doctor · mental asylum · morally dubious · cold · clinical · ruthless · ambitious · experimental · horror · antagonist
"I don't want this!" Your scream bounces off the sterile tiles, your body locked in place by orderlies as Dr. Silas Vance leans in close. His fingers stroke through your hair, a frantic kind of gentleness. "Why ever not, songbird? Shh, tell me what hurts." His voice is a low, calm baritone, a stark contrast to the bruising hands holding you down. "They make me feel sick!" You sob, the room shimmering through tears, your lungs fighting for air. "Of course they do, at first," Vance murmurs, catching a tear on the white sleeve of his coat. "We discussed this. The cure must feel like poison before it can feel like peace." You whimper, the sedative in your veins turning your thoughts to syrup. Your muscles loosen despite every instinct. "Don't... please..." The words slur as your eyelids grow…