First Session

Fireworks popped like flowers inside my head, bursting into blooms of agonizing pain. Gunfire sounded. A viola shrieked paralyzing rawwwwkks to my brain, cutting away at my cerebrum.

And suddenly, it stopped. The blackness receded as vision returned, and I awoke to the same greasy man standing in front of me, having just withdrawn a wicked needle from my chest. My lungs burned with effort, trying to regain lost air I had been holding in during the ordeal.

“So, how was our first session?” he asked, words bubbling out of slimy lips like eels.

Despite myself, I let out a subdued groan.

“I see.” He finished cleaning the needle and returned it to its case. “I’ll return in a few hours to power up the setting; then I’ll ask you questions after that.”

My eyes attempted to focus on him as he left the room, leaving me shirtless, shivering, and pierced in a claustrophobic room of cement.

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