damned_institute | Night 55: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Ruby]

This was the point of no return, if such a thing existed. It was laying right in front of him in the shape of a girl, although the body did not match the soul. There wasn't much of a soul left, in fact, though there was certainly some manner of consciousness taking root in what was more or less a corpse.

It was all extremely fascinating, this concept of demons. There were, of course, many creatures that fit that term. The doctor was quite aware of the many altverses and multiverses out there, so he had an idea of the whole spectrum. They'd certainly let a wide variety of demons into this place since its inception.

This one, though, was peculiar. The hollowed soul had once been that of a human, and perhaps some memories still remained, even if there was no real capacity to care about them. The demon even possessed a name still, which was a sign of lingering humanity on its own.

All the lore said that once a human became a demon, there was no way to go back. What they needed to know was if that was really true. Humans, after all, were the easiest to manipulate. Something that felt nothing and only looked out for itself was hardly useful at all, was it? But if they could fix that, the sheer amount of experience that Ruby had, being centuries old, would certainly be of value to the general.

And so the doctor had ordered this demon up to the exam room. As usual, there was one central light shining right down on Ruby's restrained form. The doctor, meanwhile, was standing in the corner, tapping Ruby's file against his hand as he waited for her to come to.

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It was no surprise that her body was taking the added abuse so badly considering everything else she had been put through so far, but it obviously had to be done. For that reason, the doctor didn't hesitate, only reaching out one hand in order to hold her down so that she would stop jerking around as much. Stapling someone up wasn't as precise as cutting them open, but it would still be problematic if she moved around too much.

The fact that she was still conscious at this point was rather shocking on its own, but he couldn't expect any less from a demonic creature. And seeing how he'd attempted to put humans through this in the past, it would have been a bit of a let-down if she had passed out.

Though there wasn't much in the way of talking going on anymore; just her pained noises and hard breathing and the sound of the instruments he was using to put her back together.

Eventually her breastbone was back in place as well as it could be, so all that was left was to stitch her up. The doctor first reached out to try and wipe away some of the blood, since he wouldn't be able to see well enough with it in the way. Before long the cloth he was using was completely red.

When he started to clean her up she began to pull lightly at the binding again, trying uselessly to get up. Her efforts were deflated and hampered by injury and hardly anything close to what would actually make progress in freeing herself.

There was a strangeness in the way she couldn't even really feel that he was toweling her off, but she understood the idea. No sensory nerve endings. So, there was pressure, but nothing else. The same reason everyone downstairs knew to keep the cuts shallow -- it'd keep people awake, and the skin was the only place that really got them screaming.

Her movements were as ceaseless as they were slight and ineffective. Between the burn beneath her skin and the way she was trying to keep the doctor from touching her even to clean her up, it was like she had ants crawling beneath her, inciting her to squirm, but the exhaustion from the pain and the resultant screaming made each wriggle lethargic and weak.

It didn't even really process for her that it was stupid to try and get herself free when all he was doing now was closing her up and she wasn't about to gain anything from walking around with her chest cavity open. She was too busy trying to turn her face away and tug on her wrists until they were raw.

It was annoying the way the patient was unable to stay still (clearly he should have made the bindings even tighter), but chances were that Ruby was overwhelmed by a feeling of pure wrongness. Which seemed like a contradiction in and of itself, but that was what it was. He'd taken the very thing that she was opposed to and put it inside of her, so the reaction was understandable.

It didn't make his job any easier, though.

Granted, he wasn't going to let any of that show. Instead, once she was clean enough he switched out his pair of gloves for a new one and then got ready to stitch her up. This was the easiest part of this whole thing, though, since giving someone stitches was a job that he'd done so many times he could probably pull it off with his eyes closed.

Still, without any anesthetic, he got to work, sliding the thread through her skin to make sure it healed up properly. She wouldn't be without a scar, but surely a demon could handle something like that.

And it was time for some more conversation, if only to see if she could manage that. "So, Ruby... other than the pain, does anything else feel... different?" He was speaking as if they were chatting over dinner rather than an exam table.

The pain of the needle puncturing her skin was, by contrast, a welcome distraction. Still, she clenched her jaw and bit back a hissing noise every time it looped through and the thread tightened, tugging her flesh painfully closer, stretching it back over her chest cavity. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, all black ink and hollow detestation.

"Screw yourself, Mengele." She'd said it before, she was sure, but that didn't matter. And, all things considered, the added comparison wasn't that far off base. Besides, it was impressive to Ruby that she could manage even that, because it was followed by a gurgled, pained noise that had her jaw slamming shut again as a twitch ran through her body, like lightning fettering out through her limbs angrily.

Except unlike an electrical impulse, this wasn't going to just run out. It was inside of her now, and it felt like it was tearing her open even as the doctor stitched her shut like some fucked up rag doll.

Her comment wasn't an answer to his question, and so it was therefore ignored in lieu of focusing on finishing the job. She had managed to speak, at least, which meant that her demonic hardiness had been properly proved. Once she was all stitched up, he used yet another cloth to clean up, ignoring the tatters of her shirt and the way that most of her chest was now bared.

All he did was leave a towel for her at the foot of the exam table. He doubted that she would be able to move even after he left, but if she could -- his intention had been to change her, not expose or humiliate her.

Not in that way, at least.

He yanked his gloves off and let out a sigh, glancing at her once more. "Don't worry, Ruby. Whether or not you tell us anything, we will be monitoring you to see how this plays out. I can't imagine it will have no long-term effects."

And since it was clear that she wasn't going to answer his questions regardless of what he did to get her to talk, it seemed that it was time to end. So without further ado he headed to the door, looking over his shoulder once he reached it for a parting glance. "Enjoy that bit of Grace."

Once he'd stepped out and the door was shut behind him, all of Ruby's restraints suddenly came undone.

Night 55: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Ruby]

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