a part of me wants to make a library of ruina mod that simplifies the abnormality cards a little bit. Doesnt do anything to them, but instead changes up their descriptions to be a bit clearer on what they do and/or remove the numbers unless they're important. Cuz sometimes the numbers can be confusing.

for example, Love turns goes from something like THIS:

"For every clash won with Offensive dice, a random ally regains 3~5 HP. For every clash won with Defensive dice, a random ally regains 1~3 Stagger Resist."

to something like THIS:

"On every Clash win, a random ally recovers a little bit of HP or Stagger depending on the dice used to clash. Offensive dice heal HP, while Defensive dice heal Stagger."

...honestly something like that would probably only be helpful to me. Also I'm not sure if modifying the translations and text of stuff by itself is still the same process as it was before the Big Workshop Update. Or, hell, even still possible.

I have done it beforehand, i was trying to make a Library of Ruina "gag sub," so to speak. But then I lost interest. I only got through Canard's pages and a little bit of Malkuth's story and the intro.

the phlebotomist taking my blood: hey, just wanna say thanks for being hydrated :) I can tell you drank a lot of water before you came!! it makes my job easier and I appreciate it :))

me, who’s had nothing but soda and coffee to drink in the past 2 weeks and maximum 4 drops of water: 😀 sure, anytime 😀

I had a seizure after they tried taking blood...

BRUH, what???

I changed to a different pharmacy and thought I picked up everything I needed. Lo and behold, I go to take my shot and I have

four testosterone bottles (normal)

one box of alcohol pads (don’t need another box, but fine)

thirteen of the big needles used to draw up the medicine (???)

none of the small needles used for injection

no syringes

It’s kinda on me for not checking beforehand, but WHAT THE HECK. I guess I’m taking my shot later.

Me: I want piercings literally everywhere- ears, lips, nose-

Also me: scared shitless of needles, doesn't even have earlobes pierced, faints when getting blood drawn

hc that sadie and dina constantly joke about getting a tattoo just to be held by kurai

literally! but they’re both deathly afraid of needles so they wouldn’t last a second lmfao

Greetings my liege

How are you ma'am?? Mental health do be looking ok?? Eating well?? Hydrating well?? Am just trying to look out for a fellow house plant

Small thoughts about just trying to coax scar into just staying in bed for the day mans works hard all the time but we need attention so-

I do hope you are well beloved

Have a nice day/evening (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡

Greetings!

Haven’t been the greatest but Im getting by. I’ll talk a lil more in the tags to not clog the post brhsjfjejf but ultimately I’m still swimming, so I’ve been okay <3

And Scar. Mr good times. He would so easily be swayed by puppy dog eyes. Especially when it’s something he wants to do too. He doesn’t want to get out of his comfortable bed! And you sound so cute under him when you have lazy days and he gives you the attention you deserve, he can’t help himself - it’s easy enough to shoot him a look and a ‘pretty please’ to get him to stay.

How are you doing? What’s been popping? <3

The best way I've been able to deal with shots and needles is to just... not look at the needle. I refuse to perceive it. I look away, ask the doc about their day, play a game on my phone, ANYTHING that distracts from the shot. Tbh it usually works pretty well!

Yes! That’s a very good method too. I’ve actually never been able to look at a needle when it goes in. Even seeing it before or after can make me feel a bit light headed (similarly, seeing my own blood in a vial after it’s drawn gives me butterflies in a bad way).

Although, I did actually try not looking away when I was getting my covid shots last year, just to see if I could do it. Best I could do was keep it on the very edge of my peripheral vision. Eh, close enough. I don’t have to be able to see it, just being able to sit still and not have a panic attack is the important part.

Oh wait, I just remembered! A few years ago I got an allergy test done and I was able to watch them prick all the needles then! Granted, it’s not as bad as any other kind of needle, no blood drawn or anything, but I was still proud of that.

QUEEN IM SCARED OF NEEDLES!!!! #IDONTLIKENEEDLES!

Hey, if it’s for something really important like a medical procedure, it’s gotta be done and you gotta power through it.

I used to be really really afraid of needles as a kid but I had issues with low blood iron levels when I was a teenager and had to get blood drawn like, all the time. It sorta ended up being like exposure therapy. I’m still uncomfortable with needles being in me for extended periods of time- don’t think I would be able to sit through a blood donation, but quicker stuff like vaccines are no problem for me anymore.

One thing I did used to do as a kid to mentally prepare for needing needles was press a retractable pen against my arm then slowly click it- while it won’t pinch quite as much as an actual needle, it does replicate the feeling well enough that it might help you feel more comfortable with the sensation. A lot of the time our fear and imagination makes the experience worse than it should be.

How are you feeling now? Any better? :) much love!! <3

yes, I'm better. I can take the bandaids off tomorrow earliest (they're very itchy) but my pain is okay overall, I just can't strain myself. Thank you lovely 💕 Hope you're doing well

The Tables have Turned -2

Warnings: Graphic, descriptive mentions of a vivisection, heavy gore, delirious whumper turned whumpee, sickness, medical mention, needles tw, cauterization tw, stitches, fear, begging, past kidnapping tw, IV antibiotics.

Tags: @whumpwillow, @shydragonrider, @whumpsday, @purple-heart-x

Character picrews and info here.

It had to be a dream.

Kyra looked down at the horrifying scene before her, bile rising in her throat. She knew in an instant, from the dyed red hair, that the man lying cut open on the metal table was Zayne Kamren.

Under normal circumstances, she would have been anxious seeing him in the basement of the cottage, but nothing about this was normal.

“What have you done?” She repeated, looking at Harry.

Her brother looked stunned.

“Kyra- I- I thought you were out with your friends.”

“I came home.” Kyra said simply, pulling out her phone.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, nervously.

“I’m calling 911.”

“You can’t! Do you have any idea what will happen? I’d be arrested.”

“You fucking should be.” Kyra hissed.

“Kyra, he deserved it.”

“He kept us in a basement until our parents paid our ransom, beat you up once, and fractured your knee. He did not cut your fucking guts open.”

“Kyra, wait! Wait.”

She paused, finger hovering over the call button.

“I... Fuck, I know a surgeon. One who won’t ask any questions. Don’t call the police. I can... I’ll pay him... If it will stop you.”

Kyra hesitated.

“Just this once.” She said coolly. “Just this once, I will agree to this, because our mother has suffered enough, and so has he.” She said, gesturing to the shivering man on the table. “You will call this surgeon, tell him where to come, and pay him. Then you will leave this place, and go far away. If you ever hurt another person, I will kill you myself.” Kyra hissed.

Harry swallowed. He may have been older, but Kyra had gone through military training.

He knew she meant it.

With a nod, he took out his own phone, dialing a number.

Kyra was only half paying attention to what he was saying, stepping closer to Zayne, shuddering as she looked down at his exposed innards, at the flaps of flesh and muscle that had been folded back over his sides.

She swallowed hard, putting on a pair of rubber gloves. Her hands shook as she gently lifted the fold, putting it back into it’s original position.

Zayne twitched under the restraints, a weak moan emitting from his throat.

Fighting nausea, Kyra repeated the process with the other fold of muscle.

“He’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

“Good. You should leave now.” Kyra said flatly.

She had to keep him warm, but she couldn’t exactly just throw a blanket over him. Not with his abdomen sliced open the way it was.

Kyra grabbed an armful of blankets from the closet anyway, covering his legs with one, and placing another under his head like a cushion.

Zayne moaned when she touched him, the sound helpless and terrified.

“I know, I know.” Kyra murmured, gently stroking his rich red hair. “Just hang on. Help is coming.”

“N-no.” He groaned. “Ple-please...” He trailed off again, shivering.

In the end, Kyra ended up grabbing the space heater, and setting it up on a chair next to the table, in the hopes it would help keep him warm.

The black-market surgeon her brother had called arrived soon after. The man was in his fifties, she would have guessed, with black hair, steely grey blue eyes, and a stern expression.

Only the faintest flicker of alarm flashed through his eyes when he saw the wound.

“I will assume, since he is restrained, that you did not actually find him abandoned by the river in such a state.”

“I thought you didn’t ask questions?” Kyra said, stepping back to allow him full access to her former kidnapper’s shaking form.

“I dislike the idea of using the resources it will take to save him simply for him to go through this again.”

“I didn’t put him through his.” Kyra snapped. “And it will never happen again.”

“Why not simply take him to the hospital? I would like to know what I’m getting into.”

“Listen, as I said, I wanted you because I was told you don’t ask questions.”

“If you wish.” The man said, removing several tools that Kyra couldn’t name if she’d wanted to.

“What I’m going to do, miss Fielding, is electro-cauterize this wound, and then stitch it up. The cauterization will prevent excess bleeding and allow the flesh to knit itself back together, with the aid of the sutures. Then, I’ll put him on antibiotics.”

Kyra sighed, sitting down, on the couch, and watching as he prepared a needle, sliding it into Zayne’s arm.

Zayne whimpered, his head lolling sideways.

Kyra said nothing as the Surgeon worked, cleaning the wounds, cauterizing and stitching it.

It took three hours before the surgeon finished. To Kyra, if felt like years.

“My brother will have transferred money to your account.” Kyra said, standing up.

“Can you... help me move him upstairs?” She asked quietly. Zayne was 6′8, there was no way she could move him by herself.

The surgeon tilted his head, then nodded once.

After they’d gotten him into the guest bedroom, the Surgeon turned to Kyra.

“His core temperature has been compromised. He will need to be kept warm. And be prepared for a fever. It’s going to be a long road to recovery for him.”

Kyra nodded, thanking him quietly, and watching him leave. Before she sank to the floor, and buried her face in her hands.

____________

Zayne felt both hot and cold, nausea washing over him. 

He was disoriented, his mind plagued by memories of terror and pain. He tried to squirm, but it was difficult, and it hurt.

Distressed, he shifted weakly with a hoarse whine.

He heard a voice, and strained to connect with it.

“Wh-what’s happen’ng... where ‘m I?” He slurred, struggling to open his eyes.

 The voice continued, and Zayne squinted, unable to make out any clear shapes.

“Please.” He moaned. “D-don’t hurt m-me...”

Something touched his forehead, and he flinched, terrified.

“Please...” He whimpered again. “I-I can’t... D-don’t- nnggghh- c-cut me o-open a-again. Please...” He begged.

“No one is hurting you.”

Zayne had no choice but to hope that was true. With an exhausted sob, he slipped back into darkness.

did my first at-home t shot today (last one i also did myself but at the hospital) and it went …. fine! better than at the doctor actually, cuz i didn’t have a nurse trying to count down me injecting myself at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings ^^;

WOULD YOU LIKE A [[ pipis ]] IN THIS TRYING [[Half off sale limited time only]]

- 🔵

i would like a five hour energy shot injected directly into my veins.

I can’t believe that during my hour break between class, I told myself I would just spend a couple minutes working on a bit of code...and a couple minutes turned into forty. How could I play myself this hard?? I am very tired, and I’m not sure what I’ll get done here today. But I did send out an inquiry to a tattoo artist this afternoon!

i love injections i love shots i love prescription liquids

Demon Whumpee Ideas

   Whumper’s kind enough to let Whumpee take a shower or bath. Little does he know, Whumper blessed the bathroom water so it burns Whumpee’s skin whenever he washes himself.

   Whumper makes Whumpee pray to God for forgiveness, humiliation can be a kind of torture too.

   drill holes through Whumpee’s horns so Whumper can thread chains through them.

   Whumper puts a little bell on Whumpee’s tail and tells him to hold still, so if he moves even a little it makes a noise, and Whumper can punish him

   Whumper digs up old exorcism rituals. They don’t work, but they involve a lot of water boarding and knives. 

   Whumper laces all of Whumpee’s food with holy water. Whumpee spits up blood whenever he eats now. 

   Whumpee could hurt himself with those big claws on his fingers, so Whumper declaws him like a cat… exactly like a cat, down to removing part of the fingers themselves as well. 

   Yet another holy water idea (sorry), inject holy water into Whumpee’s veins and watch him squirm

make Whumpee clean Whumper’s collection of crosses,, with his tongue. 

me every sunday night coming to terms with the fact that Im about to die cause I just did my shot and thought I saw a lil air bubble

𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬

𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰: 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦

𝘗𝘭𝘰𝘵: 𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘳. 𝘊𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘴. 𝘎𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘥.

                                        ――――――⭐🌙――――――

“Ah, finally my darling is awake. I really thought that my attempts to call for your attention were having no effect.” The doll harmoniously giggled while taking a hold of yet another needle that she planned on piercing through already sore and torn skin that she had been playing with for hours while the other – her so called lover – was unconscious.

“Some do this sort of thing with voodoo dolls so the recipient receives the pain, but why play around with a mediator when I can just take you for myself and make you feel it all in first hand? That should do it. Remind you that I cared about you when I’ve sent you presents, when I confessed to you time and time again – when I plead for you to love me back. These damned scars and laced tight ropes will leave the marks of my love, since you surely might refuse me to do that myself with my mouth, if I can’t fucking kiss you, I’ll burn your lips instead so you don’t kiss anyone else.” Ma-Ri winks to the latter and smiles as she leans in for a kiss once seating by their lap, hoping she’d get at least a peck on the lips before getting to business again.

WHO ARE THE DEATHWOLVES? Part 5/∞

(THIS PART CONTAINS POTENTIALLY UPSETTING OR TRIGGERING CONTENT. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED, PLEASE READ ALL TAGS FIRST.)

There isn't anything you can do... Stop wasting your energy, honeybee, we have to keep going... Haniyah, come on, she's dead...H-!

White walls. Steel and fluorescence. Concrete and rivets and iron. Blood and lightning and scars and hunger. White coats and ID cards and keypads and biometric locks and clipboards. Fuck those stupid clipboards.

Bleed a little more, 'cause you can take it. Bleed 'cause it'll satiate the demons.

You learned to tune out the screaming from a young age. You grew up with it, didn't you? You didn't even hear it most of the time. Even when it was your own screaming. You screamed until your throat bled most of the time, didn't you? You didn't even notice until you were choking on it. Spitting it onto the floor. Staining the floor again.

The silence was even worse than the screaming. That terrifying absence of sound that scratched at your mind like nails on walls. Those sterile white walls. Those unfeeling steel walls. Even the buzzing of that cold fluorescence when the lights snapped on in the mornings was a teary-eyed and welcome reprieve from that awful spectre named Silence. That terrible spectre that gave the shadows life at night. That made you too afraid to sleep. What if something happened to you? What if something happened to them?

That terrible screaming. Those terrible white walls. Those terrible white coats. The needles. The surgeries. The rituals. The conditioning...

The torture. The hours of torture every damn day. You counted every second, didn't you? Returning to the isolation chamber broken and bleeding. Having to put yourself back together because you weren't broken enough to warrant a visit to the Medical Wing.

You got pretty good at fixing yourself, didn’t you? Mending your broken bones and closing your cuts. You did some of that to yourself, didn't you? The floor was irreversibly stained that dull red. The walls were, too. Bloody streaks and handprints staining the reinforced glass observation window like something out of a slasher film. All of that blood was yours, wasn't it? You let some of that blood out yourself, didn't you?

Didn't you?

You wished every day that you'd wake up, didn't you? Wished you'd blink and it was all just a horrible nightmare. A decades-long nightmare. Too bad. You did wake up. You woke up at 5 A.M. every. Single. Day. Every day, hoping and praying to whoever the fuck would listen that they'd just go easy on you today. Or that they'd forget about you. Maybe if you covered the viewing window in enough blood they'd forget about you, right? Sometimes you didn't sleep at all. It dulled the pain. Made you forget about what they did to you faster. What you did to yourself. Sometimes you hoped that they'd just kill you, didn't you? Decide you had outlived your usage and dumped you down into the incinerator just like all the others that lost their appeal to those heartless white coats. Too bad that never happened either. Too bad you kept waking up.

Too bad they wouldn't let you just kill yourself. Too bad that damn glass window was clean every morning, no matter how much blood you tried to smear across it. No matter how many times you tried to just bleed out completely. You were too important, weren't you? Too important to them. Too important to her.

You got pretty good at fixing the others, too. Fixing what they did. Fixing their fuck-ups. Putting them all back together, piece by piece like you were reassembling a vase. A vase made of flesh and sinew and muscle and bone. Those horrible screams as you realigned those bones and reattached those muscles. They were always awake for that. Learning and mapping the body's anatomy in your mind by fishing around in the guts of teenagers. They were awake for that, too. You were even younger than them, weren't you? You always did have a truly special gift, didn't you, Haniyah?

...Haniyah?

"Haniyah!" The stern male voice ripped her out of her rumination. That terrible broken-cobblestone road of abhorrent memories that gripped every single one of her senses. She jolted back into the real world with a startled "huh?!"

Haniyah looked around. She was in her car, in the passenger's seat. Why was that? That's right, lunch. Yes. She remembered the lecture. She remembered the three students...

Haniyah glanced into the back of the car. Sure enough, there they were, seated comfortably and staring back at her with concerned looks on their faces.

She looked across the center console at the driver. Azuna. That's right. He was with her during the lecture. One of her best friends. Her security. She was a high-value target. Why was that? She was a doctor, that's right. A very successful one. She remembered her wife pinning her Journal of Medicine papers to the refrigerator. She smiled at that thought. She thought about her wife and smiled some more.

Azuna had a worried look on his face. His eyes were...dimming? It looked like his irises were glowing blue for a moment. Haniyah hoped the kids in the back didn't see that.

"We're here. Are you alright?" His voice was teeming with worry, too. They were parked on the street, just outside of an Indigo District sandwich shop named The Lunch Box. Haniyah's favorite spot for lunch. Her wife proposed to her here. Right out front. She smiled again. One of the kids in the back piped up. "Yeah, we can do this another time, if you want."

Haniyah finally seemed to get a grip on her wild thoughts. She shook her head, wiping the remnants of tears out of her eyes quickly and praying no one saw them.

"No, no! I'm alright. Just...A lot on my m-mind right now." Her brow furrowed as she stuttered briefly. That damn stutter. She pulled down the sun visor and checked her makeup in the mirror. Still good, thankfully. The scars once marring her face were nearly invisible, too. Or...still?

Azuna seemed to understand something, nodding and giving her a few gentle pats on the shoulder. "Need a minute?"

Haniyah shook her head, picking up the filing cabinets in her mind and collecting and organizing her rampant thoughts back into them, as she always tried to do. Compartmentalizing made it easier to think.

It made it more difficult to remember. But that was just fine. She'd purge those memories entirely if she could. Wipe them away like throwing away so much trash. She took a deep breath.

"No, I'm good."

Azuna nodded. He could tell she was being truthful. How long had they known each other, by now? Such a long time. So many memories. So much blood-

Nope. Bad idea. Don't go back there again. Just get out of the car.

Azuna disembarked from Haniyah's car, going around to Haniyah's side to let her out. She chuckled, patting him on the shoulder as she exited the car, clutching her shoulder bag in her hand. Azuna let the students out, too. They nodded their thanks in turn as each of them got out.

The door to the sandwich shop dinged as they entered. The air conditioning was a cool reprieve from the weather. It was a bit warm today. Haniyah wondered if it'd stay warm or if the weather would change again. She never could tell with this city.

The employees behind the counter cheerfully welcomed the five of them in, eliciting a smirk and a brief raised hand from Azuna.

Haniyah went straight up to the counter. She always got the same thing: Turkey and pastrami with aged gruyere, tomatoes, and fresh lettuce, on sourdough bread. Azuna ushered the students up to the counter, and they made their respective orders, albeit a bit nervously. Finally, Azuna ordered nothing and refused to allow Haniyah to pay. Typical. Haniyah frowned, but didn't protest much further than that. He never let her buy lunch, and she had mostly accepted that by now.

Salem glimpsed the card that Azuna pulled out to pay with, even though he tried to be discrete. It was such a dark violet that it looked nearly completely black. The violet was only barely visible, even in the somewhat harsh light that glared down at them over the ordering counter. There were no identifying features such as a name or District ID. Instead, it only had a wolf's head embossed on one side in white ink, fangs bared. The wolf had six eyes.

~///////////////~

:eyes: :eyes: :eyes: Azuna whatcha got there? What Do You Have There, Azuna?

this one hurt me to write im sorry, if i forget a specific tag or didn't know about one shoot me an ask pls

there's gonna be a lot of tags

THAT was what The Institute was founded on: blood and suffering in the name of scientific advancement

I HOPE YOU LIKED THIS ONE, EVEN IF IT IS JUST 700 PUNCHES TO THE GUT <3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Betrayal

Continued from here (@appleejuice, I was already halfway done with this when you sent your request)

CW: Electric shocks, torture, blood, hanging from wrists, needles (brief), stabbing mention & aftermath of stabbing, borderline gaslighting

"Whumper!" Henchman stood. "Y-you look happy— things must have gone well?"

"Very." Whumper grinned, looking down at Leader, unconscious and strapped down. "Wake them up."

Henchman injected Leader with a syringe of adrenaline.

Leader gasped, eyes snapping open.

"Thank you, Henchman. You are dismissed. Go see if Medic needs help with Caretaker. Stabbing someone 23 times is fun, but it's difficult for the victim to come back from." Whumper waved a bloody hand at Leader.

"Where... where am I?" Leader flinched as they tried to move and met resistance. "Who are you? Did you say something about Caretaker? Stabbed? Did you— did you say you stabbed Caretaker?" Leader's tone grew more panicked as they went.

"23 times to be exact. Don't worry— I still have fun in store for you as well." Whumper picked up a short metal pole.

"What is that??"

"Just answer my questions and you won't have to find out."

"Who are you? What the hell is happening— somebody just tell me what the hell is going on!"

"My name is Whumper. This is an interrogation. Why were you meeting with Caretaker last night?"

Leader froze, desperately trying to recall the memories leading up to this point. They were meeting Caretaker. They— something went wrong.

"My last interrogation went well, so I'm feeling particularly generous. That said, I'll warn you. If you don't answer me quickly enough, there will be repercussions." Whumper twirled the metal pole in their hand. "Why were you meeting with Caretaker last night?"

Leader made up their mind quickly. "You'll have to do more than threaten me with a metal stick to get me to talk." They set their expression. "You're all empty threats."

Whumper laughed— a shrill, haunting laugh that echoed off the walls, making Leader shiver. "You want to see the full effect of my threats?" Whumper jabbed Leader in the side with the metal pole.

In a moment, Leader felt their muscles spasm as the world flashed red with pain. The metal pole was a cattle prod type device designed to deliver electric shocks.

When the shocks stopped, Leader tried to evaluate how bad it had really been. It had hurt like hell, but were they actually injured? They still seemed able to move just fine. It didn't really matter either way in the end.

"Whatever you do to me won't be enough." There was a reason they held the rank of leader within the organization. "I won't break. Never have, never will."

"Aw, how disappointing." Whumper pouted. "I guess I'll just have to take my time and enjoy ending your pathetic life."

—

Caretaker opened their eyes slowly, wincing at the pain seeping through their limbs. Suddenly, their mind snapped to alertness and they sat up, stifling a scream as they felt the pain intensify.

No one was around them.

Quickly, they swung their legs out of the bed they were on and stood up, closing their eyes and leaning on the bedrail for support. When they had adjusted to the pain and got their balance, they opened their eyes and ripped out their IVs. Every step was torture, but they were driven on by fear.

"Caretaker!" Whumper stopped them in the hallway. "You're up!"

Caretaker tried to ignore the blood staining Whumper's hands and clothes. "Where's Whumpee?" They whispered hoarsely.

"Whumpee?"

"Yes. You promised you would help them if I agreed to your terms."

"Mmm... no. I actually promised to let you help them if you agreed to my terms. Your memory may be fuzzy. You had lost a lot of blood by that point." Whumper shrugged.

"Whatever." Caretaker squeezed their eyes shut and let their head fall a bit. "Just tell me where they are."

"Down the hall." Whumper pointed to the left. "At least that’s my best guess. As I said, I don't really care about them anymore. Probably behind the second door on the right."

Caretaker began their stumble down the hall.

"Oh and Caretaker!" Whumper called. "If you find them, you can use whatever is in the med wing to try and save them. I don't really care."

Caretaker pushed the door open a few minutes later. The room was almost completely empty except for a person hanging from their wrists in the center of the room, spinning slowly in the dark.

Caretaker flipped the light switch and the person flinched a little. It was, in fact, Whumpee.