[center] [img]https://i.imgur.com/OtESf8a.png[/img] [hr] ?????? / / ?????? / / ?????? / / ?????? [hr] [/center] Ironically, thanks to the drugs administered to Angélique and the numbing side-effects of Thi’s magic, the dismembered ex-rockstar was so far out of her mind that she did not know what was happening around her, or to her body. She could hear voices casually talking of things Angel could not piece together in her clouded mind. As a matter of fact, she was drifting between consciousness and blacking out. She felt no pain at all, but couldn’t also have any coherent thought, which was probably a good thing in her current state. For an undetermined amount of time—time that the poor girl could not grasp in her hazy state of mind—the raven-haired girl slowly started returning to her senses. There was no voice, at least none that she wasn’t familiar with beside the ones she constantly kept hearing in her head. She was all alone, with enough lighting to discern what was surrounding her. At first, the waking young woman was confused. Eyes not yet open, she swore she couldn’t feel anything. The only thing she could feel was a slight itching in her throat. An itching she wanted to scratch badly. And yet, she couldn’t. Why couldn’t she relieve herself of this itching? Where was the feeling of her hands gone to? Trying to bring her hands up to her neck, sinister memories slowly began creeping into her mind. The searing bite of a saw’s teeth digging into flesh and bone. [color=9e0039][i]It hurts…[/i][/color] A hand digging into her stomach to remove most of her organs. [color=9e0039][i]No more…[/i][/color] A scalpel to slice away her fat, breasts and hair. [color=9e0039][i]Please … let me die…[/i][/color] Those memories, accompanied by the lack of sensation throughout her body, made Angel’s heartbeat steadily increase. Adrenaline began pumping through her as her mind was clearing, remembering every little detail of that sordid morning. The pain, it was unbearable. Even as numb as she was, the reminder of the pain she suffered not long ago was still fresh in her mind. Why wasn’t she dead yet? Then, Angel slowly opened her eyes, afraid of what she will find out. At first, there was nothing but haze. She could do nothing but wait for it to subside as she couldn’t bring a hand to clear her eyes. But when her sight became clearer, she noticed she was standing upright, just as if she was standing. Standing without feeling anything of her body. Glancing around, what she saw only made her situation worse. Rods of metal. A metal frame surrounding her. Tubes of all kinds inserted in her body. The polished mirror in front of her… [color=9e0039][i]What the fuck is that … no … it can’t be…[/i][/color] Angel closed her eyes reflexively. She suddenly felt sick. She thought she’d throw up right at this moment, but nothing would come out of her mouth. Angel simply retched air out from her throat for a good moment. Even if it was but a hazy silhouette, she could recognize a dismembered corpse when she saw one. She saw enough of those back in Wisford and Washington. Why was she here? What did they do to her? Whose corpse was this? Angel could feel her heart beating at an inhuman pace. It slightly hurt even. Her mind was pacing back and forth to that morning and the moments she spent unconscious. Daring to open her eyes once more, Angélique stared into the mirror again. Despite the heaving sensation building up in her throat again, she kept going, as if some strange force, a morbid curiosity to learn the truth, drove her into looking at what was standing before her. The mutilated torso of a human being, held up by rods of metal fused to its bone and flesh and attached to a large square metal frame. Lower body missing so much that the ribcage was exposed. Its innards were removed, replaced by a complex assembly of tubes that was pumping stuff inside and outside its body. Scars running across the torso, as if the body had been thoroughly opened then sewed back. Angel’s heartbeat grew even quicker. The black X mark on its neck, unaltered despite the stitches on the corpse’s neck. Her breathing was accelerating to an alarming rate. The cropped locks of sand and mud-stained black hair. A plaintive shadow of a wail formed on her lips. Those glassy emerald eyes and the tears that had started to trail down its cheeks. [color=9e0039][i]No…[/i][/color] Her chest was hurting. She swore she could see the corpse’s heart beating so quickly, she could see it through the corpse’s inhumanely slim torso. She swore her heart was ready to explode from her chest cavity. It hurt so damn much. [color=9e0039][i]This can’t be…[/i][/color] As to match her heart’s erratic beats, her breathing also grew so quick and shallow, Angel thought for an instant every breath she took was not enough. She could feel herself choke from her own breathing, Angel was starting to suffocate, exhaling more oxygen than her intake. [color=9e0039][i]It’s impossible…[/i][/color] But despite her panic attack, neither her heart, lungs or brain faltered. Even if her heart was beating in a pace that would usually be dangerous to a normal human being, it simply kept on pumping more blood through the distressed young woman. Even if she was hyperventilating, the Aberration’s system seemed to handle itself well enough to stay alive. Even if the shock of seeing her own corpse hanging out on this metal frame would usually be so intense as it would make Angélique go unconscious, she remained fully awake, unable to die or avert her mind away from this living nightmare. This was no corpse. This was a mirror. It was a reflection of her. This was what remained of Angélique Lachance. Her lips formed a wide O. Air pushed from her lungs so violently that, despite her lack of vocal chords, the sound of a faint wheeze out from what should have been a scream of denial could be heard. But as much as she tried to scream, no one would hear her. No one would come to her rescue. If this was what hell looked like, then Angel sure was buckled alright for a maddening descent to the inferno.