Team Savage

Tales

I Dream of Oblivion

Draft 3:
Every day they come in and look through me. They prod at my flesh, tear at it whenever they feel necessary. Once in awhile they even break my bones. They study how it grows back, how I can keep living through this torment.

They use my identity as an excuse, to make it all ok in the end. That my suffering is justified by the "ends" they seek to reach. That's what I can glean from his conversations, but I know that he only wants to see me suffer. Everything else is just a charade to keep his entertainment.

I'm tied down to this table, hoping the next time they come it's the last. I wish for this nightmare to be over, to let me rest. Waiting till I am allowed to see the light again. Dreading the moment I hear him tell me "It's time scp-2430."