When consciousness finally returned to him, Scar could recall little of why he had been asleep. He remembered dinner, but beyond that everything was a blur. Had he fallen asleep again? A small groan escaped his throat before he opened his eyes, something he instantly regretted with the light shining down upon him. He winced slightly before he closed his eyes and turned his head. Perhaps the former lion had wanted to move his arm subconsciously - perhaps in an attempt to shield his vision from the light, who knew? - but, for some reason, his arm was stuck. And, as he soon discovered, his remaining limbs were sharing the same fate.
It was then when his brain caught up with the situation, and his eyes widened at the realization; something wasn't quite right. The grogginess disappeared, making place for alarm and, perhaps, the slightest beginnings of fear. He was already beginning to have an idea of what was going on. The King had been trapped in this place long enough, he had heard the stories. Even for someone with the brain capacity
( ... )
[How long do you intend to deny the truth, Scar? Why else do you think the herds moved on? Why else do you think there is no food or water? Why else do you think your subjects are becoming restless? Your control is already slipping, Scar. It won't be long before they'll reject you. After all, things were better when he still ruled. How does it feel, Scar? To be so incompetent? To be overshadowed by your brother in every single thing?]
Scar had wanted to yell at these voices in response, demanding them to shut up, but words died in his throat as he felt hands pulling at his head and positioning it in some sort of contraption he wasn't familiar with. He realized with a sinking feeling that... there was still one more person in this room. A faceless man he had forgotten about.
And this time, the words did get through.
A new wave of fear took hold of the former lion, and he struggled wildly, desperately against the restraints holding him down. By now, his composure had already been shredded to pieces. "No, stop all this! Please! I-I'
( ... )
Pleading wasn't going to do a thing. Even if Scar was clearly talking to him now, the doctor had already done a decent job of blocking out the man's hoarse voice. He started to hum softly to himself as he grabbed for the first item -- a razor.
"I'm going to have to remove some of your hair," he said calmly. "Seeing how you lost most of it when you came here, I doubt it matters all that much." Smiling at the joke, the man went on one knee so that he had the stability needed for the precision of the job.
Not bothering to listen to any protests, he turned on the electric shaver and then ran it over the left side of Scar's head, clearing away a spot so that he would later be able to cut through toward the skull. Chances were that the former lion had no idea of what was this was a precursor to, but it was more fun that way, wasn't it?
The pleas fell upon deaf ears, simply ignored as if he hadn't spoken them at all. No one listened. The mutilated form of his brother still stood in the darkness, eyes filled with unforgiving anger. Was it satisfying to see him so humiliated like this? Was this his idea of revenge? But why did he simply stand there? Was he waiting? It was still freaking the former lion out.
And all the while the voices continued speaking and he could no longer tell which was which, instead blurring into a chorus that continued to mock him, to disgrace him, to humiliate him. They wouldn't shut up no matter how much he yelled and screamed, they wouldn't go way and all the former lion could do was try to block them out, to convince himself that they were lying. They were wrong.
And, perhaps, the most frightening thing of it all was that this torture was anything but finished. Questions rose into Scar's head as the doctor announced he was going to remove some of his hair, questions he didn't really want an answer for. He had no idea what anyone could
( ... )
Once enough of the hair was removed (and it was hardly like the patient could complain, since he could likely covered the bald areas by pulling other strands over it -- his hair was long enough), the doctor turned off the razor and then got to his feet. Someone else could deal with cleaning up the bits of shaved hair that had fallen to the floor; he wasn't a barber
( ... )
Scar gave the device a wide-eyed stare with the understanding that it, indeed, meant pain. His expression betrayed fear and panic and helplessness, and he couldn't suppress the shudder running through his body as the doctor turned on the device and placed a hand on his shoulder. What was that doctor going to do to him?! Was he going to cut into his head?!
"N-no! Help me! S-someone help me!" Begging for help to whoever could hear him, including the owners of those voices, including his brother...perhaps he had sank to a whole new level, but right now the former lion didn't care. All he wanted was to be out of this room, for this terrible night to be over and he'd do anything to make this nightmare stop.
[But where were you when he called for help, Scar?]
The device drew closer. He tried to brace himself, but a gasp escaped his throat when metal cut through skin. He instinctively attempted to pull his head away from the pain, but the restraints didn't allow him the barest illusion of escape.
The fact that Scar was holding in his screams thus far was pretty astonishing, but the doctor didn't let that stop him. Besides, he had more to focus on right now than the patient's response, as this procedure did take a good amount of concentration. As he directed the tool in an arc around the side of Scar's head, he used his other hand to soak up the blood with gauze. Eventually, he'd cut far enough that he was able to peel the skin back and expose the skull
( ... )
Scar could smell the scent of blood in the air now, his own blood, as the pain on the left side of his head persisted. What was that man doing to him?! Why would he want to cut his head open?!
Eventually, the doctor had reached for a different device that, once turned on, produced a grating noise that was both unsettling and murder to his enhanced hearing, instantly shattering any hopes of the man being finished with whatever he was doing. The noise...it sounded painful, horrifying...making the previous device seem nearly harmless in comparison.
But Scar wasn't allowed the opportunity to respond, to even think, since at that very moment the device made contact with his skull. The sound was deafening, rattling through his skull and vibrating through every inch of his body. Forgetting everything else, his head seemed to erupt in indescribable pain that he possible couldn't have imagined. Eyes squeezed shut as he fruitlessly fought against the restraints even more wildly than he had before.
There it was. Whether it was cutting through skin or drilling through bone, people (or lions, in this case) always cracked. Unless they'd been put under extreme training against torture (and this wasn't even for the purpose of extracting information; no, their goal was much broader than that), people couldn't bite their tongue for too long. If anything, they bit it off. The doctor was honestly surprised he hadn't seen more of that during his work here
( ... )
To Scar, the experience had seemed to last an eternity. And it hurt, it hurt so much. He felt a pain that wasn't like anything he had ever felt before, and he couldn't think of anything but that very pain. The noise that kept rattling through his skull and hurting his sensitive ears...it was unbearable. Despite his attempts to shut it out, to escape it, he couldn't turn deaf to something that seemed to vibrate through every inch of his body, from the top of his head to his feet.
And after the device had finally gone silent, the noise still kept ringing through his head.
However, he had barely been given the opportunity to recover from all this horror as the doctor grabbed for another device. It wasn't over, not just yet. And when the device began cutting through bone, more screams escaped from his throat.
It was not a simple job, but it was clear that the doctor had practice with this sort of thing, as he pulled it off both quickly and cleanly. That was lucky for the patient, too, though the pain obviously wasn't going to go away that easily. Pulling away, the doctor turned off the saw and then carefully pried the piece of bone he'd cut out away to finally reveal the brain matter underneath
( ... )
The task may have been accomplished quickly in reality, but to Scar it felt as if it had taken much longer. And after the device had finally gone silent, the pain still remained. He drew in a couple of shaky breaths, attempting to ignore the pain and the voices that continued to humiliate him despite what he was going through. Wasn't it enough? Couldn't they have mercy?
In an attempt to block them out, he focus upon the words of the doctor. "W-what are you going to do?!" he managed, his voice sounding even more hoarse than previously.
"The whole point is for you to figure it out. Don't worry, you'll piece it together." Even if Scar was just an animal, he had a decent mind -- for now, anyway. Still, even after the alterations, he was certain that the patient would be able to work out what had happened to him once he'd been given enough examples.
Prodding around inside the patient's head, the doctor found the spot he was looking for. Doing it by touch like this wasn't the safest method, but it wasn't as if he had to worry too much about that. Pressing a small switch on the device caused it to send out a small shock straight into the brain tissue.
Scar didn't doubt that he would eventually learn, not at all. When it came to intelligence, he had always been the superior one. Yet, the man's words held little reassurance for the former lion. The King couldn't see what was going on, couldn't feel anything other than that terrible pain that still remained on the left side of his head (oddly enough...whatever the man was doing, shouldn't it hurt?), and he certainly wasn't going to hear it from the doctor. It was unsettling, if not somehow intrusive, to have someone poke around in your head and not being able to do anything about it or even figure out what they were doing. He couldn't quite suppress a shudder.
How long did he have to endure all this?! He wanted to leave this room, away from this torture, the voices...him, but he was not yet allowed such luxury.
It took a few more minutes of finding the right spots and then applying pressure or a shock. The results would certainly be interesting, with synapses not always shooting off when they were supposed to -- the lion was definitely going to be muddled up after this. Yet another way to point out the unfamiliarity of his body. They could keep taking things and altering things, making it harder and harder and then watching the progression.
Still, as fun as this was, he would risk causing serious damage if he remained poking around in different lobes for too long. Letting out a sigh, the doctor removed the instrument and set it down.
Grabbing the piece of skull that he'd taken from the patient, he reapplied it like a puzzle piece, and then, using the wire that was necessary for this kind of patch job, started to put the man back together. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He was being cruel, but that was part of the job description. And hadn't Scar been equally cruel in the past?
However long it took for the doctor to finish poking around in his head, Scar had no idea. An eternity seemed to have passed before he heard the man release a sigh. Dinner altogether seemed to even be a distant memory by now. And when the former lion had began to think he couldn't possibly experience any more pain, he felt more of it. He winced and hissed and gasped.
"It's over?" he pleaded weakly, desperately, pathetically. So unlike the King he claimed to be. His composure had cracked, had been mercilessly shattered to pieces. He didn't have the energy or mindset to say anything else.
It was then when his brain caught up with the situation, and his eyes widened at the realization; something wasn't quite right. The grogginess disappeared, making place for alarm and, perhaps, the slightest beginnings of fear. He was already beginning to have an idea of what was going on. The King had been trapped in this place long enough, he had heard the stories. Even for someone with the brain capacity ( ... )
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Scar had wanted to yell at these voices in response, demanding them to shut up, but words died in his throat as he felt hands pulling at his head and positioning it in some sort of contraption he wasn't familiar with. He realized with a sinking feeling that... there was still one more person in this room. A faceless man he had forgotten about.
And this time, the words did get through.
A new wave of fear took hold of the former lion, and he struggled wildly, desperately against the restraints holding him down. By now, his composure had already been shredded to pieces. "No, stop all this! Please! I-I' ( ... )
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"I'm going to have to remove some of your hair," he said calmly. "Seeing how you lost most of it when you came here, I doubt it matters all that much." Smiling at the joke, the man went on one knee so that he had the stability needed for the precision of the job.
Not bothering to listen to any protests, he turned on the electric shaver and then ran it over the left side of Scar's head, clearing away a spot so that he would later be able to cut through toward the skull. Chances were that the former lion had no idea of what was this was a precursor to, but it was more fun that way, wasn't it?
Reply
And all the while the voices continued speaking and he could no longer tell which was which, instead blurring into a chorus that continued to mock him, to disgrace him, to humiliate him. They wouldn't shut up no matter how much he yelled and screamed, they wouldn't go way and all the former lion could do was try to block them out, to convince himself that they were lying. They were wrong.
And, perhaps, the most frightening thing of it all was that this torture was anything but finished. Questions rose into Scar's head as the doctor announced he was going to remove some of his hair, questions he didn't really want an answer for. He had no idea what anyone could ( ... )
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"N-no! Help me! S-someone help me!" Begging for help to whoever could hear him, including the owners of those voices, including his brother...perhaps he had sank to a whole new level, but right now the former lion didn't care. All he wanted was to be out of this room, for this terrible night to be over and he'd do anything to make this nightmare stop.
[But where were you when he called for help, Scar?]
The device drew closer. He tried to brace himself, but a gasp escaped his throat when metal cut through skin. He instinctively attempted to pull his head away from the pain, but the restraints didn't allow him the barest illusion of escape.
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Eventually, the doctor had reached for a different device that, once turned on, produced a grating noise that was both unsettling and murder to his enhanced hearing, instantly shattering any hopes of the man being finished with whatever he was doing. The noise...it sounded painful, horrifying...making the previous device seem nearly harmless in comparison.
But Scar wasn't allowed the opportunity to respond, to even think, since at that very moment the device made contact with his skull. The sound was deafening, rattling through his skull and vibrating through every inch of his body. Forgetting everything else, his head seemed to erupt in indescribable pain that he possible couldn't have imagined. Eyes squeezed shut as he fruitlessly fought against the restraints even more wildly than he had before.
But all he could do was scream.
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And after the device had finally gone silent, the noise still kept ringing through his head.
However, he had barely been given the opportunity to recover from all this horror as the doctor grabbed for another device. It wasn't over, not just yet. And when the device began cutting through bone, more screams escaped from his throat.
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In an attempt to block them out, he focus upon the words of the doctor. "W-what are you going to do?!" he managed, his voice sounding even more hoarse than previously.
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Prodding around inside the patient's head, the doctor found the spot he was looking for. Doing it by touch like this wasn't the safest method, but it wasn't as if he had to worry too much about that. Pressing a small switch on the device caused it to send out a small shock straight into the brain tissue.
He wondered what that felt like.
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How long did he have to endure all this?! He wanted to leave this room, away from this torture, the voices...him, but he was not yet allowed such luxury.
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Still, as fun as this was, he would risk causing serious damage if he remained poking around in different lobes for too long. Letting out a sigh, the doctor removed the instrument and set it down.
Grabbing the piece of skull that he'd taken from the patient, he reapplied it like a puzzle piece, and then, using the wire that was necessary for this kind of patch job, started to put the man back together. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" He was being cruel, but that was part of the job description. And hadn't Scar been equally cruel in the past?
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"It's over?" he pleaded weakly, desperately, pathetically. So unlike the King he claimed to be. His composure had cracked, had been mercilessly shattered to pieces. He didn't have the energy or mindset to say anything else.
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