Chapter Text
Sam had frozen, the hair on her neck, the skin that felt like itching had completely stopped as she realized just where she was. The room was filled with mirrors. From the top to the bottom. It felt endless, seeing herself over and over again. The worst of all was when she would look to closely at herself in the mirror. Seeing something wrong with it, but not being able to put your finger on it. Like trying to hide from something without realizing it was behind them.
This place, where ever it was, wasn’t a kind one. No, it was a place where it made boys men, and broke men into boys. Sam had seen it while walking in those dreadful hallways, filed with people, no things that were close enough to pass as human, but not enough to look right. And the itching under her skin had gone down. But the voice didn’t. The one screaming nothing but pain and sorrow. One that could break yet fix you all at the same time, leaving you an empty shell of yourself. Mayne that was the point of this place? To drive her crazy. Maybe rip her skin off like the others. Or write ‘get me out of here’ over and over with their own blood and waste.
Sam could finally hear herself from the screaming, the voice growing higher and more agitated. *’what if the point is to turn you to those things?’* It made her shudder. But she’d soon come to realize very soon after, that the truth wasn’t anything except for that. She’d soon come to be one of those things. Her face torn, yet stitched back on by demented people. Sick, and heartless people who claim to do their actions for knowledge and the good of people.