It was hardly sleep, that thing that happened when I closed my eyes. Rest was the last thing that ever came, and in it's place was a dizzying scramble of threads that played in my mind like I was strapped into a madman's theater playing a frame from a different movie every second. I couldn't tell what was real. Not anymore. Faces, moments in time, sounds and tastes. Were they real? Was any of this real? Who was that I always heard singing? Who did that concerned face belong to? I cannot place it. For every blurry frame, for every twisted thread I thought I was finally grasping there was an entire sequence of nightmares that played on repeat in crystal clear clarity.

And these were so much more real.

Every abuse. Every cut. Every harsh word. I remembered what it felt to have every sinew in my arms cut. I remembered what it felt to nearly bleed to death numerous times. I could not forget what it felt like to think this was it, that he was finally going to let me die, only to be brought back in the end just so I could do it all over again as soon as I was healthy again. I don't even think I remember what it feels like to have real arms, to have fingers that can feel things. I know enough that what I feel now is not that. Not right. But I cannot remember what it was like. That memory, that sensation, it has been tortured from me. Not an inch of my body has not been molested in some or another. I feel like I'm losing myself, that it's not just what real skin and nerves feel like but that I don't know what it feels to be human. Am I human? He tells me I'm not. He tells me I am a weapon. He treats me like a thing.

I think he's right.

There is no dawn, there is no change in the light. My cell is always lit. I wake as I always do, to the sound of him coming. I won't allow myself to be asleep in his presence. I won't let him see my tears. My hands are not built for delicacy but nonetheless I must wipe my face with the scraps of my clothing. Whichever spot is the cleanest. The least bloodied. I must compose myself from a night of crying myself to sleep. I do not doubt that he watches me from hidden cameras. I cannot help that. But he will never see that from me in person. I must be empty. Detached. It's the only way I can ever make it through the day. I try not to think about it too much. I'll start crying if I do.

I cannot care. I cannot hope.

The footsteps drew closer. The sound echoed through the hollow structure of the facility. The door to my chamber opened, and through the bars of the cell I watched with held breath as his face came into view. The light off the hallway reflected off his glasses, like a beacon in the dim light of my prison. Even brighter was the smile on his face, but there was no real warmth there. Only cruelty. With white coat and stethoscope he played the role of doctor but I knew better. I knew he was as monster, a madman, and a fiend. His little pet nipped at his heels, bowing and cowering in fear. Rethguals hated Kane, but I always felt sorry for the twisted creature. In it I saw my own future, my only dark hope in this place that I would someday find myself in Kane's position; a twisted, broken thing that my master was so bored with that I was relegated to the position of servant.

"Wakey, wakey! It's a new morning, Yvette. It's a beautiful day outside. The flower gardens are quite a sight. Everything in bloom! Now get your collar on. We have a, ahem, new training routine today. Quite exciting. Hurry, the day is wasting."

Every word was a knife in my soul. He spoke with such happiness, such cheerfulness, like this was the greatest moment of his entire life. I couldn't even remember the last time I smiled, or remember what my laugh sounds like. When I try to remember, it is always replaced with his laugh. I had nothing to say to him. I never did. Speaking as little as possible was best. It was best to take my beatings, my abuses. There was no way to stop them, and he never stopped. My arms pistoned loudly as I reached for the circle of metal in the corner of my cell. The collar was my yoke, and yet I felt naked without it. It was the key to me cell, but also a prison I took with me. He liked to remind me that it could blow my head off, or deliver a shock that would stop my heart. I believe him. He speaks too plainly for it to be a lie, but I am afraid that the glint in his eye is there because he revels in knowing that there are way fail safes. There have to be. A chip in my brain, a bomb in my lungs, a program in my arms that will tear me apart. I think about it a lot. It could be anything.

Everything is a trap.

"Where... Where is Rethguals?"

"Rethguals? Oh, right. Rethguals. That one. He won't be joining you today. He is... indisposed. You won't be seeing him for some time. You better be on your best behavior, then. He won't be around to carry you this time. You are all alone. Try not to die."