Trying to threaten him in return was a valiant effort, especially since the doctor knew that there was weight behind the demon's words. The creatures had more or less created the art of torture, and he knew that if she did get a hold of him, he would pay. But that simply wasn't going to happen. They held all the cards, as much as Ruby believed that her "Father" might some day come and save her
( ... )
And this was the part that he really enjoyed, because even though Ruby had believed that she'd been through the worst of it, he'd come out with something she couldn't have imagined. He'd pushed past whatever Hell had cooked up for her and dished out something entirely new. And he was able to watch, with narrowed eyes, as she was tortured from the inside out. Just that syringe full of Grace, a holy power exactly the opposite of what she was, could cause this sort of agony. It was fascinating.
And he could catalog in his mind the way she slowly broke down. How she writhed around, trying to force it out of her, trying to jump out of her own skin, but she couldn't -- she couldn't because it really was her skin now. She was trapped in that body and there was no way out even as the Grace tore through everything that made her what she was
( ... )
It wasn't stopping. You'd think that as the minutes wore on, dragging out like they were eternity, that the burning would fade and she would stop feeling like a human matchstick -- or, demon, really -- but no. If anything, the pain worsened and she continued to howl, bucking wildly and trying to free herself from the vessel or at least get to a position where she could curl up into the fetal position, writhing pathetically. That sounded passable.
But it wasn't happening. Sure, it sounded great, but she was still just waging a useless battle against her own body. Her body. Not coma girl -- if it were just a vessel, it wouldn't be hurting this badly. It wouldn't have her shrieking and crying. It was worse than the shallow cuts of a knife. Worse than the pains in the fractured reality that Hell was, that allowed for worse pains than anyone thought imaginable on Earth. No, apparently, they just didn't have the right tools down there
( ... )
As fascinating as it was to watch, the doctor grew more and more concerned as more time passed with no change. The way her body lit up was definitely interesting, and he'd heard tell of how a demon reacted to truly threatening amounts of damage, but it seemed that Ruby was holding on despite it all. That was good. If he had to report a failure to the general, there was no way of knowing how he would respond. Landel had been one thing, but
( ... )
Her breathing didn't seem to be evening out any time soon, and it was still shuddered and shallow and labored. The pain was so distracting that she didn't even notice him moving away, instead focused on trying to shift her way into something more comfortable that wasn't going to happen. She couldn't just twist her hips in a different way and get the Grace out of her. It wasn't going to stop burning its way through her
( ... )
With everything he needed to put her back together again gathered, the doctor wheeled over a metal instrument table so that he would have it all on-hand. The question that was tossed back at him seemed unnecessary, since he'd made it fairly clear what he was doing. She knew that was Grace that had been put into her, so what was confusing about all of this
( ... )
This will be over soon enough. She almost wanted to let herself believe that he was going to kill her, but it was obvious that wasn't true. That'd be too easy. And when he kept talking, it became clear. The experiments. This was just another experiment. The pain, the torture, it was just an added bonus to making her into one giant, demonic petri dish. Fuck all of them
( ... )
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
( ... )
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
( ... )
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
( ... )
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.
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And he could catalog in his mind the way she slowly broke down. How she writhed around, trying to force it out of her, trying to jump out of her own skin, but she couldn't -- she couldn't because it really was her skin now. She was trapped in that body and there was no way out even as the Grace tore through everything that made her what she was ( ... )
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But it wasn't happening. Sure, it sounded great, but she was still just waging a useless battle against her own body. Her body. Not coma girl -- if it were just a vessel, it wouldn't be hurting this badly. It wouldn't have her shrieking and crying. It was worse than the shallow cuts of a knife. Worse than the pains in the fractured reality that Hell was, that allowed for worse pains than anyone thought imaginable on Earth. No, apparently, they just didn't have the right tools down there ( ... )
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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 ( ... )
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"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.
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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 ( ... )
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