AVA'S P.O.VLiquid strangled me, unending and smothering until the last wisp of air dissipated from my lungs.Then it cut off.I gasped, sputtering and coughing as icy water dripped down my pebbled skin.Bright light flared above me.I shied away, trying to shield my eyes as low voices resounded around me, but my hands wouldn't move. They felt like wet bags of cement.My chest heaved as I manically looked around me.I was in a room. A large, freezing room with a large mirror on one side.Surgical tables were shoved against the walls, clumsily arranged to make space. The floor was littered with track marks and sand.A lot of people were here.I gulped. I'd take an infinite loop of that lucid dream over whatever was happening.My eyes trailed back to the mirror on my right.The beaming light above me was so bright and obscuring that it was the only thing I could see in it, along with my quivering frame, despite the tangible presence behind me.Sucking in a breath, I forced my erratic breathing to slow.Something cold and hard pressed into my back.I ran a finger over it.They'd put me on a table and cuffed my hands to the side rails.The metal was as piercing as the chill in the room. I winced, slightly bending my body when I felt sharp pain lance through my torso.Another pierced through my arm, back, and chest, hard and sharp, until they connected and singed me inside out.I screeched, my eyes rolling to the back of my head from the growing pain."Start the surgery," I faintly identified Harry's voice from the far end of the room, "and make sure she stays conscious through it. She's going to be the scapegoat."A second later, something black descended over my eyes and wrapped around my head.I couldn't move, but I could feel my consciousness starting to fade. I refused to let myself go.Swinging my head to the side, I slipped out of the blindfold.Someone smacked my head and pressed it down. "Sit. Still."They stood behind me, but the light was too bright to see anything.Fingers pressed into my brows, harshly plastering my head to the table as another pair of hands joined in and tied a knot at the back of my head.My breath slowed.It was silent again.I blinked.Did they leave?A bead of sweat slid down my neck.Who was going to-Something dug into my side.It sliced across the bullet wound, triggering a frosty cry from my lips.I thrashed and struggled, but firm hands secured my position as the blade dug deeper.The pain burnt its way to my toes.As another slice followed. I barely recognized the toe-curling cry ripping from my lips.The sound bounced off the four walls of the surgery room till it rang in my ears like high-pitched chimes.After several rips and pulls, the blade was replaced with tweezers.It prodded around in my flesh.I wheezed.A second later, a clatter rang out as the bullet was dumped into a rusty metal dish.Sweat rolled into my hair.I gulped, trying to grasp something, even one of the restraining hands, to ground myself, but I didn't get the chance.A needle broke through my skin."Stab a little harder, will you?"Black spots crowded my vision.Air fell from my lips in short pants.I wasn't going to leave this place alive."Eyes open," a harsh smack dug so hard into my cheek, my head bounced off the table.I felt like I was bloating and spinning all at once.For what felt like hours, the pain never stopped.I thrashed from side to side, my throat tight with suppressed sobs.My teeth clamped onto my lip, and I vigorously sawed at it, trying to reduce my squirming as it only heightened the agony.Tears drenched my hair like the alcohol soaking into my wounds.It almost took a herculean effort to breathe."Take her to the Tally," Harry ordered when the surgeon yanked the last thread through my flesh.It was easy to spot his tensed figure leaning against a chair in the corner of the room.His arms were crossed behind him, but his movements were jerky and rough.His eyes slid to me for a moment, and I looked away in unwarranted disgrace.The steely binds left my wrists and ankles, allowing cool air to brush over blistering imprints I was sure were left behind, but they quickly pressed against my shoulder blades and shoved me off the metal table and to the floor.Groaning, I tried to touch my stitched shoulder but was yanked by my straps, across the wet tiles, through the dimly lit corridor, and into the infamous Tally.If I wasn't already broken, then I was sure to do so here.I wearily peered around, my gaze flitting over wood and cement, never settling on any particular thing.A light flickered on, and arms seized my waist to pull me to my shaky feet.Biting my tongue, I struggled to suppress the pain. My stitches had to have been strained by now.I shivered, pressing my thighs together and curling my toes for warmth.Ropes pulled around my wrists, then wrapped around my ankles to wooden figures crossed like the multiplication sign.I sagged, and my head settled on my right arm tethered above my head.My skin joined my endless list of burdens, heavy and sensitive, making the binds around my wrists all the more painful.I drowsily peered at the yellow walls —some parts stained with red— a lone wooden chair in the middle of the room and a trolly next to it."Leave, all of you."I stiffened.That voice.It had been ingrained into my memory, although I'd only heard it once.Pashvik. 'The Out'.That was what he was called. He was a way 'out' for people here.A ruthless tormentor.He was known as a lethal synonym for death.With his straggly blue hair, misshapen nose, and lazy eyes, he presented himself without difficulty.Terror electrified me as he slowly closed the door behind him.This was happening.I wasn't just going to die.I was going to beg for it.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------———thoughts? Votes! Love and smiley rainbows.<3