Chapter Text
The first thing I noticed in this world was the extreme, excruciating pain all over my body. Between being pressed down by a thousand trucks and the heat of a million stars, this was far worse. A pain that is indescribable to anything I’ve ever felt before. It was definitely worse than that one time I stubbed my toe and went to the hospital.
At that moment, I wondered if I became my own shadow that remained after being struck by the blast of an atomic bomb.
Evidently, I wasn’t, as the pain subsided almost instantaneously.
As I was left to wonder what the hell happened, loud chatter carved itself in between the white noise drumming in my ears. Memories swirled in my mind, a big soup of experiences throughout my life. What was I even doing beforehand? I think I was sitting on my couch after a long day at work, or I was waiting for my train to arrive while it was late yet again…
What happened for me to experience something like this? I still had my eyes closed, perhaps I was afraid of facing the truth instead of laying down the questions in my mind to rest.
Am I dead? Am I alive? Am I something between living and unliving?
But despite my heart beating in panic, I faced my fear and opened my eyes.
My flesh, which was previously pooling around, was quite literally putting itself back together. Blood weaved like thread knitting up my skin, undoing any and all wounds I had beforehand. Wounds I don’t even remember having.
I didn’t have time to question this further, as I noticed I was sitting on grass. And wearing a uniform I didn’t recognize having in my wardrobe.
Wait. I did recognize that uniform. But from where? Not outside a cosplay convention, that’s for sure. But it still felt familiar. My memories were still swirling around like whirlpools inside my head, momentarily useless for me to draw from.
Looking up, my vision went blurry and the white noise intensified. I saw… People? And lots of red stuff- blood, is what I was guessing. It felt like I was in a bad slasher film with the amount of gore there presumably was. Like Evil Dead or something.
I closed my eyes again. The headache I was having could rival Zeus’s. Maybe I was nearly dying all over again.
Hey, at least I was alive! Just gotta check in to the local hospital and I could go right back to doing whatever I was doing beforehand!
…At least, that’s what I hoped. But the worming feeling in my stomach already made me quite uneasy about what’s to come. Somehow, I already knew this wasn’t gonna be as easy as I hoped it to be.
I didn’t know I could miss being in an overcrowded train this much…
To my luck, the headache lessened in intensity until it became only a slight thrum. Ah, much better. I could’ve almost fallen asleep then and there after all the exhaustion of the pain. When did I even last sleep? Maybe it was only some nightmare, or one of those freaky sleep paralyses I experienced once. It couldn’t hurt, right? I had all the reasons to just doze off on the comfortable grass-
“You’ll suffer aplenty from now on, Dante.”
Instantly, I snapped my eyes open.
I knew that voice.
Memories previously unrecallable suddenly flooded into my mind. The group of people that were too blurry to make out became extremely detailed. Fourteen people stood there, all of them from a game I played.
It couldn’t be. No, this had to be some halloween thing or something.
But the guts splattered about and the dark forest surrounding me, and quite literally the person with a flaming clock for a head standing not too far from me proved otherwise.
This was real. If my eyes were betraying me, then the extreme pain beforehand wasn’t.
I was quite literally in the world of Limbus Company.
Oh god.
My mouth opened, then closed, then opened, then closed again. I felt a chill run down my spine.
This is… Fine. Everything’s fine. I can totally handle this well. Yep. I am comprehending everything and I am adjusting to this new development quite well. So well, in fact, that I am standing up like a normal person.
Well, and then immediately fall down again because my knees are shaking too much.
Yep. This is… Cool. I am cool with this. I am cool with dying immediately in this godforsaken city.
I am cool with… Never seeing my friends again, or ending up in the missing persons report back home, or not seeing Saw on the weekend like I wanted to, or working my ass off for that goddamn promotion, or…
…
Oh, who am I kidding. I am shaking and sobbing at this very moment. I’d normally consider myself to be a calm and collected person, but this was very much an exception. Much like how this entire situation… Is an exception.
I didn’t even notice the bus arriving and everyone else getting on it. I wasn’t a part of this. I was just a random stranger, transported to fuck-all. I’d be dead come morning anyway, right? Maybe death means I could go back home and not be stuck here.
Or death could just be death. But honestly, I was placing all my bets on the slimmest of chance I could get back home.
I never really realized how much worth my life had back home until that moment.
The bus was still standing there, waiting to drive off. The incessant rumbling pissed me quite a bit, to be honest. I just wanted to have some peace and quiet crying my eyes out, thank you very much. But it didn’t leave its spot waiting there.
“Uh, bud? You alright there?”
I looked up to the source of the voice. One of the characters, Gregor, was standing there looking kind of concerned. He was the only sinner left behind from boarding the bus.
I scrunched up my nose. Why was he giving a shit about me? Sure, he was one of the nicer sinners, but that doesn’t mean he was giving pep talks to complete strangers like me-
Wait. I was wearing the uniform of Limbus Company, wasn’t I? That explains why I felt so much pain and was alive after all. So putting two and two together…
My scowl deepened. I’m a sinner, aren't I? But I clearly saw all the other sinners, including Dante just now…
So… The universe just added me to them, without explanation or fanfare? That means I wouldn’t die out in the backstreets. Or well, I wouldn’t suffer a real death. In fact, I would suffer lots and lots of deaths without being granted any sweet release or hope to come back to my original world.
And just when things couldn’t get worse…
“... Did I do something wrong, or why are you making that face at me?”
Ah, shit. Wouldn’t wanna make Gregor feel bad for my current crisis. I have… Plenty of time to think about this later. I wiped away my tears and forced up the closest thing to a neutral face I could manage. “Ah, no, everything’s alright. Just aren’t used to being sliced up like this.”
Gregor's wary expression didn’t go away completely, but at least his tense posture visibly relaxed. “Yeah, I can understand that. Never experienced dying like that either. Gotta say, I’d prefer it if we didn’t go through something like this again.”
Gregor turned around, facing the bus now but still slightly tilting his head towards my direction. “Just, uh, I don’t wanna rush you, but I’m pretty sure they’re all waiting for us. So it’s better we get on quick, okay?”
I nodded and Gregor quickly hurried to the bus's open doors. I took a deep breath and sighed. Tears were still threatening to come out, but I managed to force them down much better. I just gotta lock them up and not address them again. There was no time for crying here- Not when I was living in a literal dystopia.
I stood up from the soft grass. A cool breeze whipped from the forest. I did my best to ignore the scent reminding me of nostalgic times in my original world and strode up to the bus. When the bus doors closed behind me, I tried my best to forget I was ever in a forest at all.
Inside the bus, I immediately flopped down on the nearest seat I could find and sank into it as far as humanly possible. The other sinners were sitting as well, either watching as Vergilius explained to Dante about the current state of things or looking somewhere else entirely. I wasn’t paying any attention either. In my defense, I was too tired to, and frankly it was unnecessary for me.
I mean, I’ve already played the game. Not completely, mind you- I’ve played up to canto eight, after that I was patiently waiting for canto nine. That gave me enough knowledge to know about the next eight very bad events awaiting me. And after that? Well, I was gonna find out what happens in canto nine one way or another…
There was also the whole thing with Dante being an amnesiac. While that was a completely separate can of worms, at least my new manager and me had something in common: We both know jack shit about living in the city. I knew all the trivia, maybe a bit too much trivia, but that trivia was quite useless when compared to my behaviors and skills. I never wielded a weapon and I never had to worry about my safety.
Hell, I never even really watched someone die in real life. I may like horror movies or games that may have some gore in them, but I’m all too aware how different that is compared to watching someone actually dying.
Not minding the fact living in the City means watching hundreds of people die on the regular.
Not minding the fact I will have to kill someone by my own hands. Multiple times.
This was perhaps the first time I had something in common with a manager of mine- being entirely inexperienced in the brutalistic nature of this world. I wasn’t sure if that was a comforting thought or not.
“Soldiers! Stop lounging around like that! Such behavior is insolent!” An aggressive whisper came from the back and tore me from my thoughts. Looking behind me, I saw it was Outis with her usual militaristic behavior. She looked down on me, irritation clearly visible. Despite my tiredness, I immediately complied and straightened up. I didn’t wanna make Outis of all people angry.
“Ahhh, don’t be so dramatic~ We just fought, no need to be this uptight…” Rodya, who was sitting right besides me, slung her arm around my shoulder in a playful manner and mimicked a yawn. Nope, not a fan of this. She shot a glance at the ex-military. “Aren’t I right?”
Outis knitted her brows together. I felt a chill run down my back. “Our performance in battle has already been a pathetic display. We mustn’t give our new manager an even worse impression of us.” She crossed her arms and kept staring us down, yet strangely she didn’t argue further. Maybe she was tired too but was hiding it better.
To my luck, Rodya retracted her arm from my shoulder and opted to lean on the window instead. I let out a barely noticeable sigh- I didn’t want to make it too obvious that I didn't like being touched. My eyes looked forward and I started paying attention to the conversation happening at the front of the bus.
“... If you can understand what I’m saying, give me some kind of reaction, Dante.” Dante nodded as per Vergilius’s request. It’s funny, Vergilius always addressed Dante, yet I felt spoken to nonetheless. I suppressed the urge to nod as well.
“Good. At least your hearing is functional. Charon, let’s drive.” Vergilius turned his head towards the driver's seat where Charon was sitting.
“Now departing. Vroom-vroom.” Charon started driving the bus in a much gentler fashion than I was expecting. Well, she wasn’t driving gently exactly, just that she wasn’t driving so recklessly we would’ve all fallen back from the force.
Still, could’ve been much gentler. But people here don’t worry as much about driving innocent people over… Not when those people usually serve as fuel. At least it’s more ecologically friendly than using oil?
“Do you remember who you were?” Vergilius continued questioning Dante. Dante shook their head.
“I suppose you want your memories back. Am I right?” Dante nodded this time. Yep, all stuff I already know from the tutorial.
“Smooth as it gets. What’s to stop the rest of you from adopting this gesture-based communication?” Vergilius suddenly looked towards the rest of the sinners… Us sinners, I mean. I shrunk back a bit from his gaze. Definitely don’t wanna anger him sometime soon. Or ever, really. Even if it seemed like he was in a joking mood.
Aside from that, this felt… Incredibly wrong. Being viewed as being a part of the sinner group. I wasn’t a part of them. I was just some… Glitch in the matrix. And yet, Vergilius was looking at me just like how he would look at Sinclair or Rodya. As if any of this was… Normal. And totally planned by the Company.
Could they at least act as shocked as I do?
Vergilius turned his gaze to Faust. “Any words of yours, Ms. Faust?”
Said woman was looking to the side, eyes as expressionless as they always were. “Faust will kindly reject the offer.”
Was this meant to be lighthearted? Definitely didn’t feel like it. The atmosphere felt as tense as it did before. Or maybe I just perceived the atmosphere as tense and they were all reveling in their strange City-humor. I only knew for certain I didn’t want to be a part of this anymore.
Well to be fair, normally I’d jump at the chance of meeting the characters I’m obsessed with and escaping my boring old life. And surely it could be exciting, right?
…
I’m just not feeling it though.
“Dante.” Faust spoke up again.
<Dante?> Dante repeated, slightly confused. Despite only hearing tick-tocks, I managed to understand them just fine. So that’s how it worked! Trying to imagine tick-tocks as their own language always confused me, but somehow here it was working.
As Faust started explaining that that was indeed their name, my mind wandered off again and I looked to the side. Sceneries passed by the bus, vague concrete buildings only really being the only thing you could see. I started thinking about the sinners, the people I would be spending an indeterminate amount of time with.
Ishmael was a reasonable enough person, however before her canto it might be a bit difficult to properly connect with her. I didn’t know much about sailing either to have any easy questions to maintain a conversation with.
Hong Lu is quite detached from everything with his entire trauma and… Oh god. The elders are watching. In fact, they might be watching me right at this moment. Okay, calm down, better to just avoid him…
Heathcliff has quite the temper and he also only really cares about Cathy. And with what’s to come, that… Kind of breaks my heart too much to not let it show. Better to avoid thinking about what’s in store for him.
Don Quixote is a joy to have around, but she can be quite tone-deaf. I would love to listen to her ramble about fixers though. Just don’t mention anything about Bloodfiends…
Rodya is laid back and playful, good enough to converse with, but you also can’t really trust the mask she puts up completely.
Yi Sang is… incredibly depressed, for now anyway, and I don’t know how to help him before his turn comes.
Meursault is agreeable and cooperative, but I only really know that from the perspective of Dante. He has definitely his own share of fucked up shit to carry on his back.
Ryoshu… Is Ryoshu.
Sinclair might honestly be a great person to connect with, since we’re both thrown into somehow similar circumstances.
Faust acts as a giant encyclopedia, but doesn’t interact much with the other sinners. Also a case of hiding her true personality.
Outis jumps at any opportunity to accuse someone of betrayal. Not really the best thing when you quite literally don’t belong in the group you just ended up in.
And lastly Gregor… Is just a chill guy. Despite the blunder earlier today, I don’t think he’s one to beat it over my head for the rest of my time here.
It’s not ideal, but I can probably deal with this. Probably. As long as I converse with the others normally whilst still keeping my distance would suffice enough.
“... And the people who fought in your stead moments ago.” I snapped from my thoughts and looked towards Faust, who was now looking at us other sinners. Shit, is it time for introductions already?
“What hooo!!! So thou art the final piece that completes our journey’s cast! How I’ve yearned for this moment!!” Don Quixote piped up excitedly. She immediately jumped up from her seat and looked expectantly at Dante.
Gregor stood up from his seat as well and cracked a friendly smile. “Say, pal, where’d you sell your old cranium off?”
“So it was you. Thanks for putting my spine back into place.” Ishmael was more reserved than the other two, but she showed her gratefulness nonetheless. “Were you a surgeon or something in a nest?”
Looking at the others, I felt compelled to comment something as well. However… I didn’t really have something to comment, given my time here so far has only been extremely bad. And well, I’m not a proper part of this anyway. Best to shut my mouth for now.
“Everyone, quiet. Nothing is more displeasing than hearing a choir of noises.” Vergilius commanded irritated. “I suppose you all owe them an introduction. I’ll give you all time to make yourselves known, starting with the closest one. Go on.”
While Gregor started introducing himself as the first in line, my stomach twisted into a tight knot.
I failed to consider who I even am in this world.
Given the others treat me completely normal, I’d assume I wasn’t flung into this world as brutally as I perceived it. However, I don’t remember any sort of life I led beforehand. My first memory was literally waking up from the dead.
What if the little details didn’t match up? Or worse- What if I was in the body of a regular city dweller? What if the universe just did some sort of bodyswap? I won’t be able to confirm that unless I get myself a mirror, but-
What if the name I’d state is completely different from the one in the Company documents? What if they catch on immediately that I’m not from here? Would they think of me as a lunatic? Or worse, what if they classify me as a danger for being a part of such a thing at all?
Who am I, really?
Before the spiral of thoughts continued further, I was halted by Vergilius and Dante looking expectantly at me. Shit. It’s my turn. Shit, shit, shit, shit shit shit shit-
“Frankenstein?” Faust asked, looking at me while I was staring vacantly at Dante.
Frankenstein? My favorite book? No, wait, not the book… Wait, is that is my name in this world? She said it while looking at me, so…
I’ll just have to take the risk then.
“Oh, my apologies. I’m Frankenstein, nice to meet you, Manager.” I more or less quickly garbled out before feigning a disinterested expression. Maybe if I acted aloof, my short bout of panic might get shrugged off as general uninterest.
<... Is that it, then?> Dante stared at me, unfortunately not being able to make any expression that I could read. This was definitely gonna become a problem in the future.
“Yep.” I looked off to the side, not paying any more attention to the others’ introductions. Based on the fact there was no outcry, I assumed Frankenstein really was my name.
My thoughts started crowding my head again. So, Frankenstein. Apparently I was a character from my favorite book. Very worrying, considering what kinda book it is. Not knowing a thing about my past only makes this more worrying.
I don’t know how much of the book applies here though. The other sinners' backstories aren’t necessarily connected to their book versions that much. I’d just have to hope I don’t have a monster chasing after me much like Ricardo.
Nevertheless, finding out my backstory here seemed to be the priority. I wondered if I could access the company files somehow…
Suddenly, the quiet rumbling of the bus floor underneath my feet stopped. I didn’t have much time to wonder about it until Vergilius asked about it already.
“By the way, Charon, why isn’t the bus moving? Were you dozing off?” He looked towards the said bus driver.
“A bus driver only snoozes at rest spots, Verg.” Stating this plainly, she looked at Vergilius with her usual apathetic look. “Weirdos were hanging around in front of Mephi.”
Wait… Shit, we’re fighting already? It had to come down to this sometime, sure, but I didn’t expect to have to show my embarrassing lack of fighting skills so soon.
I didn’t have much choice anyway, as the other sinners were already gearing up. I sort of just followed them as Dante and the others got off the bus.
We quickly got off the bus and came to face with the backstreet people who obstructed our way. I glanced down to the holster around my waist. Earlier, I noticed a few… Needles(?) strapped around it. They were as big as knifes and were bound by some sorts of strings. Those needles were probably the weapons I would be fighting with. Which means I either had to throw them and had to rush defenseless to them to retrieve them… Or I had to fight in close combat with. Which was truly not ideal.
I thankfully had the gift ( or curse) of revival on my side in case I ever die during a fight. However, I didn’t want to be revived in my first ever battle. I don’t think even one of my sinners died in the prologue chapter.
Then again, according to the Checkup Intervallo all sinners should be as strong as Sinclair… Me included. Though I don’t have as much experience wielding a weapon as say, Outis or Meursault.
Brandishing one of the needles I looked at the backstreet dweller stumbling towards me. I froze. They had a desparate look in their eyes incomparable to the people I’ve seen in my world. It wasn’t a begging look. They knew too well that nobody would offer them any sort of grace. It was a look showing wholly their selfish intentions.
In that moment, I only now began to grapple the fact that in my sheer unluck landing in the city I managed to have the luckiest position possible. I was already aware of that, sure, but some facts hit harder when thrown right before you, visible to even shut eyes.
One of the needles in the holster quickly entered my hand and was held out threateningly. “Don’t come closer. We’re much stronger than you and vastly outnumber you. I don’t want to kill you.”
The dweller didn’t have any sort of reaction to my warning. Almost as if he didn’t even hear it in the first place. He only staggered forward, holding a broken bottle in one of his hands.
Then, the bottle was held up high. Before I had any chance to react further, he already spun around, attempting to tackle me.
Through the panic, my body started acting out of its own will. The needle I held slashed through his face. My head narrowly avoided the bottle, though my shoulder was still struck. Thousands of glass shards fell to the ground, some cutting through my skin.
Despite my lack of combat experience, the gash across his face was very deep. Was that even possible, or is wielding a needle that easy apparently?
I barely had time to think before he charged at me again. I dodged his strike, however I did not attack him with my needle.
I jumped back, attempting to put some distance between us. “I’m warning you again. If you don’t flee, you won’t have a chance at survival”
Yet my words proved futile again. His crazed eyes since the beginning of our fight told me that much already. I wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. In the backstreets, people already had little time to survive. If they didn’t have lodging, they were basically doomed to die already. So they lashed out like desperate animals, trying to take anything they had the slightest chance of putting their hands on.
I was simply the more priviledged chance at survival they had.
When he charged me once more, yet again I weaved out of his way with surprising ease. My hand still hesitated though. I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone. I never fought anyone with actual lethal intent. In fact, I-
Nevermind, I needed to concentrate on fighting and not things from my past life. Just get over it and hit him!
And yet, I was still jumping back instead of using the opportunity. I simply wasn’t used to this. I wasn’t made for fighting people I pitied more than feared. A tight knot of guilt spread in my stomach every time I caught a glimpse of his now disfigured face.
The fight continued on, now becoming more of a dance between attacking and dodging strangely effortlessly. Until I tripped and fell to the ground.
Looking up, I saw the man standing over me. He raised up his bottle with a manic grin on my face. A fear of death, despite knowing I could just be revived, spread all over my body.
And in the next moment, his head was bashed in.
The remains of the backstreets dweller crumpled to the ground. Behind him, I saw familiar waves of orange hair.
“That was close. Are you that squeamish over finishing the job?” Ishmael looked over me with a slightly exasperated look. I scrambled to stand up, my embarrassment probably being visible on my face now too.
“I’m- simply not used to it.” I said as I brushed the dirt off my clothes. A sting of nervousness settled in my heart. I knew this was far from the only time this would happen. I had to get over this, somehow.
“Well, anyway. Let’s join the others.” The former sailor grabbed the dead body and dragged it to Mephistopheles, with me hurrying not too far after her.
In front of Mephistopheles, a commotion of people were already gathering around. Faust was concurrently explaining to Dante about how Mephistopheles operated as a homeless-crushing machine. I tried not to think too much on the moralities of this.
Looking towards Ishmael, a question was on my lip. I felt nervous to actually properly initiate a conversation with another sinner, but standing around while listening to Faust explaining something you already knew wasn’t much of a good alternative. “So, uh, Ishmael was it?”
Ishmael glanced towards me while dumping the body into the maws of Mephistopheles. “Yes, that’s my name. What is it?”
“You seem pretty experienced with fighting. Were you working as a fixer or something beforehand?” My knowledge of her backstory was probably coming in handy here. Although hopefully it wasn’t too obvious.
She hesitated for a bit before replying. “I was in a couple offices, doing some work here and there. Why are you asking?”
“Well, you’ve seen how terrible I am in combat.” Sheepishly looking off to the side, I rubbed my hand against my neck. “I know we use completely different weapons, but maybe you could show me some basics about fighting?”
The former sailor raised her brow. She seemed taken aback from the question. “Well…”
Her gaze refused to meet my eyes. “I doubt I can help you much when we use completely different weapons. There aren’t really many ‘basics’ about fighting besides the obvious ones like dodging or staying in control of your movements. Besides…”
Now her eyes were scanning me with an analyzing look. Well shit.
“I don’t even think you were that inexperienced. You managed to not get hurt too badly. You just hesitated back there for some reason.” She huffed. The calculating look was replaced by a more slightly confused one. Quite a few things seemed to be on her mind, yet she didn’t seem interested in voicing them. Or rather, she wasn’t interested enough to ask her questions.
It made sense, since the only thing she truly cared about at that point in time was seeing Ahab's corpse.
Now my eyes were the ones to look off somewhere else. It seems my intention to not come off suspicious backfired. Trying to salvage that would be difficult. “Well- I don’t engage in fights with the intent to kill all that often.”
Ishmael said nothing, ending the conversion then and there. I don’t think I was able to clear up much, but oh well. I hoped she wasn’t gonna remember this.
Looking at my bloodied hands, one thing she said stuck in my mind still. ‘I don’t even think you were that inexperienced’. Was I truly?
It felt weird. Suddenly being able to do things I never thought I’d be able to do. And yet my own mind was the barrier to even realize something was different. Ishmael was the one to notice it.
Things only seemed to get more confusing, didn’t they?
Exhausted from todays events, I followed the sinners to their sleeping quarters. I desperately needed a very thorough shower. Or two very thorough showers. Even thinking about the amount of blood on my clothes made me sick. As I watched everyone go through their doors one by one, I thought of what my own room would look like.
If I remembered correctly, each sinners room is personalized to themselves. Was my room gonna look like my old, real room? Or was it gonna be this Frankenstein-persons room instead?
I braced myself going in as I opened the door.
To my surprise, it was much like my own room... And also not. The room was very dark and dilapidated, for one. There were bookshelves lined along one wall, almost identical to the ones I had in my own room. However, the numerous medical instruments and the operational bed standing right in the middle were absolutely not from my own room.
I traced the wall with my fingers as the door closed behind me. Numerous tiny cracks littered the cold concrete, as if built centuries ago. Faint wind could be heard just outside the window behind the operational chair. Approaching the window, I saw nothing but white outside.
My sight wandered to the bookshelves lined along the wall. I could see from the spines that there very much were books I also had back at home.
To my disgust, the operational bed was stained in blood. The iron smell wafted through my nose. And here I was hoping I could get a break from all the gore and blood...
I looked to a second door just to my right. Hopefully a bathroom, otherwise I just might've gone insane.
As I opened the door, I was greeted not by a much prettier sight. To my luck though, the bathroom was not bloody. Just very dilapidated and ugly.
There was a tiny shower, a toilet, a sink and...
I stopped when I saw the mirror.
It wasn't because of the mirror itself. It was a very ordinary mirror, if a little cracked.
No, it was because of my reflection.
I truly looked like a completely different person. I didn’t even think it was possible for me to look like that, even if I hypothetically underwent multiple facial surgeries and mountains of makeup.
The most shocking part was the huge scar running horizontally under my eyes. It wasn't just some regular scar, it was stitched up. And I could swear the skin below the scar was different from the skin above the scar.
I pulled down the shirt collar down my neck and lo and behold, there was another scar running across my neck. This time, the skin below the scar was definitely not my skin.
Quickly pulling off the black gloves I was wearing just revealed more scars- Or should I say, stitches- running all across my hands.
Cooool... Just fantastic. I definitely needed to feel body horror today!
Why was the universe so much of a hater specifically towards me?
My gaze averted from the mirror. Definitely don’t need to think about the logistics behind this.
I walked out of the bathroom and was greeted by the still unnerving-looking sight of my room. I spotted a dresser near the bookshelves, probably containing company-provided clothes for me to wear. I opened the dresser and changed into sleepwear.
Wanting to remain as far away as possible from the bloody bed, I curled up in the most-comfortable looking corner ( Which was an easy task, given they all looked equally extremely uncomfortable) and let the thoughts race in my head until I was too tired to think.