Poisoned

Acacia
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YEAH MORE LAB HORROR AND STUFF. It's really not that bad for Acacia, but... you know... Sister is all eeeeviiiiillll and stuff... That's horrific, right? RIGHT? I'm saying it is.... xD Here's her next experience! ALSO, the plot has now caught up to the present. THIS IS IN REAL TIME PEOPLE. HOW SCARY IS THAT. Well... yeah... <3

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As I started to come to, I noticed right away that the room was dark. Cave dark, like the bottom of an eternal abyss.

Unaware of anything beside my rapid pulse, the table beneath me, and the cuffs that bound me, I hated the fear that swelled inside of me, a meek whimper coaxing itself from my lips.

When silence was all that met my sound of terror, a frantic, desperate scream tore itself from my lungs, echoing off of the unseen walls.

I’m going to die. The thought was sudden, unwelcome, but, the more I considered it, the closer it came to being a reality.

Where is the sun? How long have I been here, in this despicable place?

Throat raw, I settled back onto the table, panting and heart racing. It was futile to try and escape.

A few tears escaped from my closed eyelids. The darkness provided there did nothing but worsen the situation.

After what seemed like an eternity in the endless hell, a light burned through my closed eyelids, forcing them open in a flash and blinding me.

Mon Dieu!” I couldn’t help but cry, turning my face away from the source. Vision clouded, I gritted my teeth, struggling to adjust my eyes.

I wished I hadn’t.

The instant I could see properly, I happened to glance down toward the doorway, expecting someone, but caught sight of my arm instead.

Quoi? Qu'est-ce que -

My thorns, prominent and sharp, were bursting from my skin, every two inches marked by the little daggers. No recollection of summoning them reached me, and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t withdraw them. This.... this is impossible.

“I see you’ve noticed some of the changes we’ve made,” a familiar voice laughed, shutting the door behind her. My shock had paralyzed me, focused my sights on my body and ignored the threats available. “How do you like them?”

“Cecile, what.... what did you do to me?” I demanded, trying as hard as I could not to hyperventilate. This was a nightmare. Wake up. Wake up! Wakeupwakeupwakeup—

“Oh, just made some modifications on your makeup.” With that, she crossed over to me, hand on her hip. “You’re now one step closer to being a perfect weapon.”

“I am a Mandrake like you!” I snarled, thrashing. “Or, at least, like you were. I’m not a weapon!” Rolling her violet eyes, she sighed.

“Acacia, I can’t believe how naive you are.” She brought her clipboard closer to her face, scrutinizing the ink scrawled over the papers. “Everyone was created to be used. Every being is a weapon, no matter how weak or fragile.” Sneering, she tilted my chin up, examining my neck. With a quick motion, she plucked a single thorn from my skin, showing no concern for me as I let out a pained cry. “You’re weak. But I’m going to fix that.”

“Why would you do this to me?” I whimpered, losing the will to fight back.

“Why not?”

“But—”

“Look here, Acacia,” she ordered, brandishing the clipboard and holding it in a firm grasp before my face. With a pointed nail, she tapped a section of the first page, leading me to the paragraph in her graceful penmanship.

18 September: Subject injected with a combination of atropine, hyoscyamine, and scopolamine extracted from the Angel’s Trumpet plant (Datureae Brugmansia). Due to adaptations and automatic chemical functions in subject, transfusion was success. Inflammatory toxins were injected along with the poison, forcing the thorn-like appendages to remain exposed permanently. No reactions to chemicals have been noted; overall process documented and claimed triumphant.

Je ne comprends pas,” I muttered, taking my eyes away as she drew back. Poison? They made me... poisonous? I was... so pure...

“I thought it was rather fitting to use the Angel’s Trumpet in this experiment, don’t you?” she queried, brushing me off. “Now you and your precious Dante are,” she donned a mocking falsetto, “like, perfect for eachother!”

Clearing her throat, she continued with, “At least, you both are one step closer to being perfected.”

As if on cue, a resounding scream filtered through the thick walls, the owner obvious.

Dante!

“Silence, dear sister,” Cecile soothed, snatching a device from the table at my bedside. “By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be lucky if he can even stand to look at you, let alone love you.”

Love?

For a few seconds, she frowned, hand moving toward me to brush through my hair. “You’re as beautiful as a rose, Acacia. No wonder you’ve caught the eye of your Angel. Such a precious flower...” Grinning, she wielded the electronic device in her hand, flicking a switch to power it on. A loud whirring followed. “I’ll fix that for you.”

Laughing like an insane mad scientist, she took the razor near my hair, my eyes widening. What purpose does this serve? Humiliation?

“Maybe when you aren’t pretty,” she snapped, holding my head still with her right hand as she used her left hand to guide the machine to my head, “you won’t feel the need to be so helpless.” Shutting my eyes for a few moments, I steadied my breathing, no longer attempting to break her hold. “That’s right; stay still. It’s only hair, after all. It’ll grow back... then again, maybe it won’t. I haven’t decided.”

I made no sound, not even a sigh, as she sheared my hair, the white locks tumbling past my face as she chuckled. You’re crazy. Something is wrong with you.

“There! All finished!” she sang, shutting the device off and grabbing a mirror as she sat the razor down. The instant she brought it before my face, I felt my eyes widen.

Not only was my hair—the one thing I’d ever remotely liked about my appearance—cropped to a mere two inches above my skull, but my face was covered in purple-tipped thorns while dark green circles resided beneath my eyes, both effects of the poison.

Monster. I swallowed. A freak, like you always were on the inside. Now you look the part.

Running a hand through my hair, Cecile pursed her lips.

“Hmmm... I guess you don’t look terrible...” she mused, shaking her head in disappointment. “Ah, well, with luck, by the end of the week, you’ll be as repulsive as I think you are. The poison has barely set in, after all. Don’t worry; it’ll only get worse.” After setting the mirror down, she leaned closer to me, whispering into my ear. “Little sister... such a pathetic excuse for a creature. I’m only trying to give you a future where you’re useful and not such a waste of space.” With that, she turned on her heel, heading toward the door and smirking back at me as she rested a hand on the knob.

Je te déteste,” I snarled, shaking with anger and emotions I wasn’t used to. Laughing, she nodded, opening the door.

“And I love you, too, Acacia,” she called, grinning as she flicked the lights off and shut the door behind her, enveloping me in an unbearable darkness.

“It’ll be okay,” I murmured, my mind frazzled as I struggled against my restraints. A tear slipped from my eye. “Ça va bien se passer. C'est tout un rêve. You’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.” No matter how much I repeated encouraging words to dispel my fear, the tears that streamed down my face and the trembling that overwhelmed my body disregarded them.

Heart heavy and exhaustion sweeping over me, I stilled on the table, my quiet sobs the only sounds to accompany me in the utter blackness that now served as my hell.

I wished for hope, for a sign, a miracle, but all that I was rewarded with was silence.

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It's actually... almost annoying as much as it is fun to write about Acacia like this... That made no sense, did it...

Ah well; c'est la vie.

I hope you enjoyed it! THEY MESSIN' WITH HER CHEMICAL MAKEUP THOSE BAAAD BAAAD PEOPLE Hope everybody can post soon with their character(s)'s POV! :3

End