"AGHH! HAHAHAHAHA!"
Laughter burst from my mouth, a crazed, almost inhuman sound.
I felt the laughter rumble up from deep inside, but it wasn't mine. My lips moved, my body shook with that sick laughter, but it wasn't me.
I watched, stunned, as my body moved on its own.
[What is happening to me?]
I tried to scream, to speak, to at least move, but I couldn't. It was as if I was a spectator, watching someone else puppet my body. Panic surged through me, a cold fear that wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed.
[My body… how is it operating on it's own?]
Fear clawed at my mind. This feeling, the loss of control—it was far worse than any torment I'd endured.
I couldn't understand. Questions surged, but no answers came.
I tried to reach out to anything within me, to regain control, but my body moved on its own, like a puppet on strings.
Each second, I felt the sensation of my body slipping further away, like sand slipping through my fingers.
[Am I… am I dying?]
The thought was terrifying. There was no answer, only silence.
Then, a voice shattered the silence. My tormentor's mocking laughter rang out as he stared at me.
"Hey, what happened? Don't tell me you broke from just this?"
He was smirking, wiping down the peeler with a towel.
But my body—the thing controlling me—only stared at him for a moment.
But I—no, my body—ignored him, eyes narrowing as they focused on the chains binding my wrists.
The man noticed my strange expression and chuckled, his amusement taunting.
"Hehe, what's wrong with you? Did you lose your memory or something?"
-CRACK!
The chains binding my wrists snapped, falling away like fragile threads. In a flash, my body lunged forward, slamming a fist into the man's abdomen.
He doubled over with a gasp, clutching his stomach.
"Shut up. I didn't give you permission to speak."
The voice that came from my mouth was cold, filled with authority, and yet… it wasn't mine.
I was merely an observer, watching from other side of the wall.
-THUD!
My tormentor hit the ground hard, the impact echoing through the room. He looked up, dazed and gasping, as blood trickled from his lips.
[What… is this?]
My body straightened, surveying the bloody room.
"Why is i-, haa interesting, a drug to completely suppress the regeneration, but it would only work against some nobodies."
Slowly, I watched as the torn skin of my body began to knit itself back together, the wounds closing up as if they had never been there.
The tormentor coughed, his face pale as he struggled to his feet. Blood dripped down his face from where he'd hit the mirror.
"Y-you… what are you?" He gasped for air, stammering.
"H-how… how did you heal…? The drug. It was supposed to stop your regeneration."
He coughed, struggling to pull himself up.
Fear had crept into his eyes, and I could feel his gaze darting between me and the regenerating skin. He staggered, choking out his words.
"What… what are you?"
His voice was filled with desperation, disbelief.
-CRASH!
Before he could say more, my hand gripped his hair, yanking his head back before slamming it into the mirror with a sickening crack. Shards of glass scattered around us, and blood poured from his forehead, staining the broken glass.
"I told you to speak only when given permission."
The tone was icy and ruthless.
A crazed aura filled the room, thick and suffocating. I could feel it—the sense of danger, raw and overpowering. But it didn't come from him. It came from me. Or rather, whatever was controlling me.
"Huurff… Hurfff…"
My tormentor gasped, his breaths shallow and desperate. Blood trickled from his scalp, his eyes wide with fear.
"Please… spare me… Please… please, have mercy…"
He whimpered, his voice barely more than a whisper. He was pleading, begging.
His begging voice sounded pathetic, so different from his previous mocking tone.
But my body only tilted its head, a look of disdain flashing across my face.
"Didn't I warn you to speak only when you were permitted?"
"Stop… please, stop."
"Please… please, have mercy…" he whimpered, voice cracking. His defiance shattered, his earlier cruelty evaporating in the face of the terror before him. His begging voice sounded pathetic, so different from his previous mocking tone.
-Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.
"I already warned you to speak only when given permission. I forgave you once, twice… but forget it. There won't be a third."
My body leaned forward, and I watched as my hand reached out, forcing his mouth open. His eyes widened, and he began to scream as my other hand grabbed his tongue.
-Rip.
With one swift motion, his tongue was torn from his mouth, free. Blood splattered across my face, the man's screams filling the room in agony. The sound was horrifying, filling the room, reverberating against the walls.
"UAAAHHHHH!"
His muffled cries were pitiful, barely intelligible, his body writhing on the ground, soaked in his own blood.
"Testing my patience, are you?" The cold voice that was somehow mine spoke again, almost bored. My body moved again, reaching down, my fingers digging into his limbs.
-SQUELCH.
One by one, my hands twisted and tore, ripping his limbs from his body. He was beyond screaming now, his eyes rolling back in his head, his mouth gaping in a silent cry.
Blood sprayed everywhere, pooling around us, mixing with my own dried blood, filling the air with its metallic scent.
His screams grew weaker, more desperate. Yet, I could feel nothing but a cold detachment. No remorse, no hesitation.
"No… please… stop this…"
My body took a step back, watching him struggle, his broken form twitching on the floor. His eyes were glazed, barely focusing, yet filled with terror.
-CRUNCH!
My body moved again, its hands digging into the man's abdomen, pulling at his insides, twisting, breaking, destroying everything that lay beneath his skin except his vital organs. It was as if it was toying with him, breaking him inch by inch.
-Crunch!
The sound was sickening, visceral. My tormentor was barely conscious, eyes glazed over, body twitching with the last dregs of life.
Blood and organs was spilled everywhere, yet I felt… nothing.
"Ahahaha… how does it feel?"
A twisted grin spread across my face, my voice taunting him. My body's laughter echoed, a sound even more deranged than my tormentor's had been.
"Exciting, isn't it? Come on, tell me."
He could only sob, his mouth a gaping, bloody wound. His cries were weak, barely audible, but they filled the room with a sweet melody of suffering.
"Why are you crying? Don't worry. I'll make it better."
He watched in horror as my hands moved again, grabbing his head with one hand, his heart with the other.
-CRUNCH!
The heart shattered in my grasp, its warmth fading, spilling blood over my fingers.
-CRACK!
Simultaneously, the sound of his neck breaking echoed, his head ripping from his body.
His body went limp, blood pouring from the broken corpse onto the floor.