Her brain was buzzing with pain, her eyeline was covered in a blanket of red, and the red gore fell over her. She couldn't stop the ripping of flesh and the pain beneath her fingernails.
It faded out again. Back to the darkness.
She felt a cold withholding of her arms above her, the metal flooring scraping her exposed back as the strong metal scent around her body overwhelmed her nostrils, filling up her lungs with the disgusting stench and setting her lungs ablaze with pain.
Rina shoved her body around as she was dragged, the light floor-burn stopping with the stop of the mysterious man's dragging.
"Could you. fucking. stop?" She yelled her at the chained girl, her shirt rode up increasing her uncomfortablility as the scum stared her down.
"I'll stop as long as you stop being a damn creep." Rina somehow wiggled her shirt's hem down, and the guard's perverted smile faded. He turned himself around and looked as if he was going to continue.
Thank god she thought her body tensing as the dragging feeling didn't start up again. Her arms were still loose from the vice grip he had whilst dragging her, but it wasn't there anymore. The pool of anxiety rose immediately within her stomach. It wasn't the only thing she had risen within her. She turned her face to the side, and the empty stomach she was living on emptied even more.
A clear sheen covered the flooring next to her.
"Fucking yikes." The guard said, his grunt-like voice made the curse that came from his mouth laughable. The guard wrapped the long chain around his hand.
"I was gonna knock your bloodsucking ass out, but.. Clearly you don't need another head injury, so ill do you one better." The guard pressed a hidden button on the cuff, her body lax, and her mind was no longer foggy. No longer was the anxiety affecting her; Rina's body felt soft, velvety, and on a level of quality she had never felt. What comfort fully felt like.
What was it? She felt its euphoric effects, but her brain was snapping on and off. One second, she could see the cells, the metal, the dirt. Grime. Every little spec of wrong within the mysterious building.
Next thing she knew, her sight was fuzzy, but so were the cuffs; her whole world was painted in the style of The Birth of Venus, an ancient painting by an unknown artist. one esteemed to the highest ranks of the world.
It felt expensive. Pampering.
How could a drug do this? She let the thought slip away from her, slipping into her now reality of velvet, pastel lights that kept the negative thoughts of the distressing reality she had right behind that curtain.
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The touch of the mystery drug had worn off. The world's comfort level flew from her body. The hard cot she was lying on was hurting her lumbar, as she sat up. It was a silver and brown tinged room. A forcefield kept her locked into the small cubby of a room, only enough room for a cot, a small porthole, and a toilet/sink combination.
There was little room in there for her to spread out. The room felt cramped, tight. Her throat felt deeply restricted, her hands clamming as she looked out into the faded hallway on the other side of the field, keeping her restricted to the box that felt like it kept folding further and further into itself. Her chest became heavy, and the panic was instilled. It crept up from the floor, climbing her leg, crawling up her chest, constricting her neck with the maliciousness of a hungry python, and entering her nose, and slithering down her throat. It suffocated her, drowning her in her mind.
She started beating on the plasma gate, her hands sliding on its slick surface, trying to break its atomized bonds. Her flesh gave way to the raw skin underneath, its sensitivity rising as she continued to pound at the shield in front of her. the throbbing of her skin continued to an extreme, layer by layer the feble destruction of the field did more to her than she did to it.
she smashed, and hit, crashing her already battered and brused hands into the wall in front of her. a guard was patrolling closeby. the masked figure stood as she continued her self inflicted torture. splots of blood smearing all over the glass.
a muffled voice came out from the other side.
"You should stop before we all get in trouble, freak."
her attacks stopped, she smeared the now vicera coated shield to see the tall what looked to be man in front of her.
he groaned. "I guess we have to move her to another cell huh, being along aint so good for these types.
These types? Who was she. she couldnt remember the last twelve hours, let alone where she was or how she got here.
"Why the fuck, am i here, i didnt do anything?" She cried. her hands hung at her side, the stinging of her hands overcoming her sense of dread from the guard she viewed from inside the cage.
"They all say that." He paused for a moment, unamused, placing a hand on the door, and a crisp *shushk* started from the side of it. "Get back from the door." the mans stern voice was intimidating, albeit a little funny because of the depth, but his words overtook her dwindling confidence.
the door itself slid slowly from the side, a second guard coming from the opening with a long metal arm held like a grabber she remembers the street cleaners use to use.
It clamped down on her neck. its metal clasps sealing together as the deeply voiced man entered the room and clasped her hands behind her back.
"You're treating me like a crimina-"
"You are in PRISON for albe's sake, of course you are. now shut up and start walking."
She wished she could have sent a prayer to Albe. She needed the rescue right now, anything to forgive what she was oblivious to. she missed the days of quiet reserve she had in her apartment on Aswain. the candles, the carelessness of the music playing from her plasmic device.
she missed the music. the softness of its instrumental unlike the treatment within the prison she found herself hoping was only a figment.
The gloved hands were as rough as the guard's tone. she was forcefully escorted out of the tainted cell. her surroundings as she dredged ahead were only those out of a headtrip. the singular holding cells, coated in dirt the same nasty coating she was dragged in before the headtrip from whatever she was drugged with earlier. the rust, the smell of cigarette smoke emitted from a few passing guards.
The laughter from those spectating her humiliating parade of detainment. she could barely handle a speech in her classes, let alone a full tournament of horrific offenders laughing at her.
She didnt know where she was headed. hopefully somewhere the wounds she had created could be cleaned.. maybe sealed. something to stop the pain.
Fuck, it hurt. the cuffs kept her hands aching as they rubbed together, the feeling of her skin peeling around the wound kept her grounded, but in a constant sensation of detriment.
She couldnt bear it.