And yet Emily had never been one for taking the high moral ground. Emily had refused to experiment on people, participate in the games of these alchemists searching for immortality. She could feel the plastic tube inside her veins scraping against it the lining of her veins whenever she moved, and she could not add to the pain.Īnd all because she had refused. Emily went to touch her head with her hand, but the IVs held her arm in place. The veins were pulsing almost through her skin, and she felt sick. Emily had a pounding headache-pounding because her heart was trying desperately to pump out enough blood to keep her alive, trying to supply her brain with enough oxygen as fast as it could… She had already lost a lot of feeling in her extremities and the only thing that told her they were still there was the sharp, needle-like pain. She watched the blood drain from her arms to the little bags, and then her eyes traced the path of the saline and whatever other mixtures an IV was supplying to keep her alive, from the bag, down the tube, and into the flexible tube in her vein. Emily knew of Hell and the demons that tortured people night and day, but she couldn’t imagine it would be any worse than this. The room glowed with a red-orange tinge, the light reflecting on the walls eerily in a manner she knew was designed to frighten the torture patient. A low moan echoed in the small metal room as Emily, all alone, lay on a metal gurney with tubes attached to her arm.
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