Doctor Angel, such a horrible cretin of a man. He performs unforgivably invasive experiments on us, the ones that over time erodes away the essence of who you once were. I have long since forgotten my full name, but in here I am called Valentine. I am one of his research subjects, already prepped and ready for another fun time as he likes to call them. The extent this vile man has gone to in the name of science is quite sickening. I can give you a very personal example of the extent of his insanity. He somehow managed to turn my twin sister into a damned raven in one of his explorations to find the truth. After the initial shock had worn off, they had already moved her to a different wing. I need to find her and escape, but I need a plan first.

I bet you're a little curious as to what this bastard does right? Let me give you a quick crash course into my cluster fuck of daily life. The tests he performs on me works as follows. He takes the essence of an element, such as fire or water and injects them into my bloodstream. I bet this sounds fun, yeah, not so much. This the process is horribly painful, and so far I've rejected every element. Rejection is the most painful experience you could ever imagine. How I've survived this long is one hell of a mystery, or you could just chalk it up to my stubbornness and my iron determination to cling to this pathetic existence.  

What happens when my genetic make-up attacks this foreign invasion, easy, it causes the essence, to seep out of my flesh. If you thought that was the worst of it, you are mistaken. I always seem to get the extreme side of each element. For example, when he shot me up with Fire, my skin burned and crackled as the fire slowly seeped from my pores. Today is my final chance before he disposes of me and finds his new subject, oh happy day!

I sit here in my room of all white in a white jumpsuit and white slippers, wondering who's fetish we were living out decked all in white. Dr. A seemed to enjoy us dressed this way; it no doubt served as another reminder where we were on the food-chain. The waiting is what always got me, wondering what messed up shit they had brewing on the other side of my white box. Well, it's my turn again today, so the waiting was mercifully cut in half. I hear someone knocking on my door and smile, not because I was up for testing, more that they actually knocked. The guard, who was also wearing a full white protective armor suit wielding an assault rifle, pushed the door open. I studied him and was a little surprised to see that his gun was white too. What was this fuckers obsession with white, like seriously? This much white could not be good for one's health. I snort as I recognize the guard, he was less of a dick than the others. Tard-face's name was Logayn, a brute of a man that enjoyed his position a little too much.

“Hey Logayn, what do we have for breakfast today?”

“Hello Miss Val, today the good doctor wants to try a combination.”

“What's that?”

To say I started sweating a little would not have been a lie, I was a little confused and a whole lot scared, Dr. A has never tried two elements before. Was the man getting desperate or was he just reaching a whole new level of insanity? Logayn walks over to me, and I stood up, my legs giving a little wobble. Logayn places two silver cuffs over my shaking arms, his lips stretching into one of glee as he sees my slight tremble.

“He thinks, Shadow and Void. Should be interesting,” he smirks. He spins me around, shoving me against the wall because this makes sense, right? No, I have no clue what these people think I could use as a weapon in here, but paranoid minds tend to be creative minds, so maybe they believe that I can use my hair or pillow as a weapon!  He unclasped the item detection wand from his belt and flicked it on using the switch on the bottom handle. He waves his wand over my body and gets no indication that I'm holding anything. Color me surprised! He pats me on the shoulder, signaling me to turn around. I lift my arms, spreading my legs, his wand moving across my front, but no satisfactory beep sounds.

“Shadow and Void, eh.” I reply, “That's a pretty chaotic combo, dontcha think? If I didn't know any better, I would say Doc's trying to kill me.” I smile sweetly. Logayn clears his throat, his eyes scattering all over the room.

“Doctors orders.” Logayn says apparently not interested in any part of my small talk, “Let's go.” He nudges me with his gun, and I walk out of the room. He follows behind me with his gun pushed into my back, another sign that that these assholes owned every inch of me. They could take my life at any moment, but they choose to make me suffer the endless torment day after day. Such is their torture. I make my way down a long hallway that had the same white walls, tiles, and doors as my room. Everything in this damned place is white. I know exactly where I’m going, though. I stride through the halls effortlessly as I’ve made this walk so many times before. I finally reach the room with a white door and a large, black, letter V on it. I was code named Patient V. Doctor Angel switched between calling me V or Valentine on a regular basis, for him it's another form of torture. He reminds me that I’m still human even though I'm just a glorified lab rat.

   I open the door to see yet another spotlessly white room, this time; there is a white table with white leather straps and harnesses. I dread this place, I hate that table, and I’m disgusted by Dr. A. I creep into the room, and Logayn was staying close. He hooks his rifle to his back with some magnetic device. I lay on the table and place my arms and legs into position. Logayn clasps the straps extremely tight on my wrists and ankles. He practically cut off circulation and by the look on his face, he knew it. He quickly leaves the room, his role for the day done. Another door opens, and the embodiment of evil strides in. I really disliked this man. He lifts his hands and presents a syringe full of black liquid to me. I look the thing up and down, and for a few seconds felt like I was going to burst into tears. The needle was huge; it was at least 8 inches long.

“Is that a needle or are you just happy to see me Doc?! Don't you think you're taking this a little far? I thought you enjoyed hurting me more than killing me right off." Dr. A says nothing, only studies my sweaty brow and racing heart beat.

"Doc, you know that shit's not gonna work on me either, right." That was when he did something so weird, so out of character; I nearly lost control of my bladder. He smiled, and I'm not talking a little smirk, hell no, I'm talking full on teeth and twinkling eyes smile.

“Not this time, V. This time we succeed.”

“Oh shit.” I say just as he pricks my arm with the massive needle. He pressed the syringe into my flesh, and the obsidian fluid of death enters my bloodstream. I feel calm and quiet for a moment. Then I see blackness, something I’ve not seen since I was captured and sold as a slave to Dr. A. Even in my sleep I see white. Out of nowhere I feel a jolt of pain. I arch my back as it pulses through me and I thrash, jerk, and struggle for release. All I see is blackness and feel immeasurable agony burning through my veins.

   I black out; my mind catapulted into oblivion. I wake up into a dream-like state. I'm standing in a jet black void; the blackness so thick I could cut it with a knife.  Finally, I begin to see a light in the distance, I walk towards it and see that it's a torch. The torch is just floating there, seemingly not affected by gravity. Shadows are dancing around me, but they suddenly freeze into place, as if stopped in time.

I look around me to see the shadows begin moving again slowly. I look at my hands in the torch light, utterly confused with what is happening. I see my hands are completely black, dark as the void itself. I see what appear to be black strings coming from my fingertips. They lead from my fingers to the dancing shadows around me. As I work my fingers and move my hands, the shadows begin to dance to my will.

Am I controlling these shadows? What is going on here? How do I get out of here? I thought as I watched in wonder at my strange theatrical performance. Then it all went black, and I could see nothing once again.

A few seconds later I see a torchlight in the distance. I start walking towards it again, but it seems to be moving with me. I can't get any closer to it than where I am. It's almost like walking on a treadmill. I get irritated and focus on trying to get there. That's when it happened; I appeared right in front of the torch, standing just feet away instead of hundreds. My mind is churning with questions, but no answer seems to present itself. What has happened to me? Did I just teleport? Seriously what is going on? A tingle of pain slithers down my spine, tingling my nerves as it slowly rises like the mercury in a thermometer. The pain is paralyzing; I can only stand there stiff like a board while the sensation goes up my body.

I black out when the pain reaches my head. I wake up immediately, and I am back in my room, laying on my bed. The white compared to the utter darkness I witnessed nearly blinds me. I stand up from the bed; it's perfectly white sheets are wrinkled where I was laying. I look around my room to see nothing has changed.

I don't understand. How did I get here? What's going on? My thoughts run wild in my head. I'm still at a loss but feel that I should not think too much about this. I notice in this room there is so much light that I can't see any shadows. It's very strange. That’s probably why this room was so blinding at first.

I walk over and reach for the doorknob. I twist it, and it pops open, forcing me to take a step back. My door was always locked. I pulled the door open and looked outside the room. The Guard was gone and the only thing visible in this stark whiteness, was a single jet black feather on the ground.

  What in fuck’s sake is going on here? Is this Stella? Did she get out? I feel my pulse racing as the thought of us finally breaking free takes hold. My resolves steels in my spine and the only thing I can think of was to find my sister and get the fuck out of dodge!

I burst through my door, as the smell of freedom burns through my system. I run down the hall to the right. Left is where Dr. A is usually waiting; they never have me go right. This place still reeked of white, but it was all unfamiliar. The turns, twists, and stairs are all confusing to me, but I just follow the strange trail of black feathers until it leads me to a closed door. Of course, this fucking door is white like the rest of them. All this Ivory-colored shit was starting to wear on me as time progressed. I stand in front of the door for a couple of minutes, unsure of what I should do. I finally reach out for the doorknob when I hear something. It sounded like a….A BIRD! I rush through the door to find a raven sitting on the table in front of me.

“Stel-la, is that you,” I ask, nervously waiting for an answer.

“Caaaaw!” the bird replies while excitedly dancing around with her wings open. Overjoyed I run over to her and hug her, I make sure not to squeeze too hard.

“I've missed you, how long has it been? Like at least six years since we saw each other last! We need to go. I don't know what you did to get here, but we need to find the exit!” I say, starting to act frantic after I release Stella from my arms. She waves her wings rapidly until I look at her.

“What is it?” I ask. She waves one of her wings signaling for me to come closer, so I approach the table once again. She jumps and flies up onto my shoulder. We turn around to face the door when I see the knob turn and the door pop open.

What I see frightens me, but I remain calm. I feel Stella step towards my neck until her foot touches my neck. I feel a strange pulse of energy; then I hear a voice in my head.

“Val, we have to run. Charge this man, but focus on getting to the other side. That should activate your powers.” The voice says in my head.

“Stella, is that you?” I ask aloud.

“Yes but we don't have time right now! GO!” She screams into my brain. I charge the guard and before I hit him he disappears. I am running down the hallway, but I look back to see the guard looking around in shock.

“Take this left!” Stella says. I take the next left and keep running. The next thing you know, The white turns red, and I hear a dreadful voice over an intercom.

“Val, Stella, please stop this charade. Come back to your rooms and we can talk this out.” Dr. A says over the loudspeaker.

“Fuck you Dr. Asshole; I'm getting the hell out of purgatory!” I scream back.

“Now that wasn't very nice Val, I’m going to have to punish you for that one.” Dr. A snears.

“Oh shit,” I say while still running.

“Do not fear; he won't harm us anymore,” Stella says, calming me down a bit. I continue running down the hall of ivory.

“Left, Right, Straight, Keep going.” Stella orders as I sprint down this corridor as fast as I can. I see a door; it says exit on it in flashing green lights. It's the only thing I saw from here that isn't white. Two doors at the end of the hall open and four guards walk out with assault rifles. They take aim on us and fire. In an instant, I close my eyes when I thought death was about to approach us. Instead, I hear four bodies hit the floor. I open my eyes to see the four men on the floor each with a bullet wound to the head.

I stand here in shock and confusion. What the hell just happened? I take a moment to collect myself before Stella screams at me.

GO!! She roars inside my head. I bolt for the door, hurtling over the dead men. I bash into the door causing it to fly open. I see sunlight and white clouds lying across a massive blue expanse.

The next thing you know I see a beautiful meteor shower, but something is wrong. I feel a horrible weakness in my inner being while this is going on. Stella rocks on my shoulder. I fall to my knees, and Stella jumps off my shoulder and stands a few feet away from me. She gives me looks I've never seen before. It's fear; she has never once in her life showed me fear until now. My heart is racing but not for long. The encroaching weakness is weighing me down; soon I fall to the ground and black out.

You are walking home as night approaches, your nightmare. As you walk down the street, you see the light fading from the sky. There is enough light for you to see where you are going but enough darkness that the street lights are flicking on. The nightmare of sleep is making your eyes dark. You dread the very thought of sleep. Every night you wake up to the same nightmare and tonight should be no different. You cautiously approach your front door and turn the key, allowing yourself entry. The fear weighs heavily on your shoulders as you sit on the couch to watch some TV before bed. You turn on the flat screen, but nothing happens. The TV is still showing a black screen and the lights begin to flicker.

There is nothing unusual about this; the lights often flicker in this house. The TV not turning on is trouble, but you do your best to remain calm. You only stay in this wretched house because no matter where you go the same thing always follows you. It's almost like an apparition, or maybe even a demon but no matter what it's there. Of course, this is another reason you choose to live alone. You don't want to hurt anybody with this condition.

So you sit there, fear building in your heart as it pounds in your chest harder and harder. You can hear the beating. It's like somebody is knocking on your chest like a cop pounds on a door. Thud, Thud, Thud. The sound echoes in your brain as you feel the rush of sleep starting to overwhelm you. You fight it and even start a pot of coffee, hoping to stay away from the dreadful thought of sleep.

I only need to make it through the night. You think to yourself, but night has only just begun, and your eyes are already feeling heavy. It must be this nightmare that haunts you luring you to a humble grave. It's kind of sick when you refer to your bed as a grave but every night that's how it feels. Some night it will be the end of you, all of this, this nightmare. You gulp down your coffee in hopes to gain some energy; it seems to be working but still it's only stalling the inevitable. You will fall asleep and dream it once again, but it never feels like a dream. A dream that never seems real. You begin to tremble slightly, and fear is finally starting to overwhelm you. The lights flicker one last time and finally turn off on their own.

It must be time, the game of cat and mouse begins. You stand up from the couch and approach your doorway, leading off to your bedroom. You turn on the light and see that your bed. Your bed is neatly sorted and made up. There was something troubling about this. You didn't make your bed this morning, but here it is as it prepared itself for you.

You feel drawn to fall into yet another slumber of no rest; maybe you did something to deserve this torture. This agony of never able to love, never able to take on somebody else's embrace. It's like your love is a disease. It happens to be something that causes your infection. Infected with your love, if life isn’t a bitch, you don't know what is. You quit trying to fight it and soon enough and dress for bed. It's a long white gown that hangs down to your knees. You feel a small breeze roll in behind you, almost as if it's pushing you to your bed. You give into the drive and step forward and step one foot after the other, creeping to the edge of your bed. You lay down with a gentle sort of ease as you have done so many times before.

When you are comfortable in your bed, you gently close your eyes, and that's when it starts. The nightmare, the hell of your sleep awakens just as you go under, and darkness overtakes you. Moments later you wake up unable to move, but you can feel it. You can feel their hairy legs as they glide across your body. There must be ten or more tonight. What is normal anymore? You have felt up to thirty at a time before. The weight of each step they take has you suffocating in fear. You can't move, and you can feel them climbing higher and higher onto your body. Soon enough you can feel them on your chest and neck. These hairy bastards never seem to give up. You feel a strange sensation when you move your fingertips. You can move for the first time while dreaming. This hell could finally be over. You rapidly sit up and start swiping all the spiders off your body but in the process, you feel several sharp pains on your chest, hip and shin. You rip off the blanket to see a tarantula biting you in each of those locations on your body. When they pull their oversized fang from your flesh, you can see the venom and blood dripping from them. You swipe the remaining spiders off you and look in fear when you see a horde more surrounding you and engulfing your body. You let out a bloodcurdling scream as you are being eaten alive by hundred of tarantula’s. You can feel them draining your body of all it's essential fluids.

Soon enough you are a fraction of your former self, a sack of bones in a nightgown. The spiders soon disappear leaving you helpless and half dead. You feel a strange sensation in your stomach. It almost reminds you of butterflies in your tummy but more painful. Almost like actual butterflies are flying around in your guts. You look down your body to see your stomach moving around like there are thousands of living creatures inside of you. Your stomach begins to swell and grow. It looks like a balloon full of monsters. This swelling becomes so much to the point that you don't know what to do. It pops, exposing what was inside, it's thousands upon thousands of spiders. All of these babies scatter after this forced c-section. Your children are gone leaving you broken and exposed, your insides exposed.

In the next second, you wake up from the nightmare but are in an all white room in a white gown, strapped to a different bed. Finally, you feel at ease; the nightmare is finally over. You look down at your wrists and see they are red around the restraints; you must have lost control while you slept once again. To the right of you is a man sitting in a chair holding a notebook on a clipboard. His long white lab coat had his name tag on his right breast pocket, and it read ‘Dr. Angel’.

“How are you feeling now, Ella? Did the nightmare happen again?” Dr. Angel asked while his pen was in the writing position, almost as if he was going to record what you said.

“Yes doc, it happened again. How many times must I go through this?” you asked with the energy sapped from your voice.

“As many times, this is necessary darlin’. Good luck next time.” He said before finished writing my answer down. He stood up and walked out of the room through the heavy white door with a wired glass window. You lay there confused and exhausted.

Good luck next time he says. Fuck you Dr. Angel.

You are standing in a crowded room; it's full of people. They are all after different things but right at this moment several are after the same thing you are after. The Painting, it's an old vintage oil painting of a man in a suit leaning against some sort of table or bar maybe. It's not particularly attractive but it's draw sucks you in. You can hear the auctioneer speedily shouting numbers and trying to make the sale. You have been saving up for over a year to buy this painting. You finally notice the bids are slowing down.

“$2000, do I have $2100?” He shouts. You hear another holler his bid.

“$2500!” he replies back to the auctioneer. This was your opportunity, he probably just gave away his total. You take your chance to secure it.

“$2500, do I hear $2600? Going one, twice, Sol--” The auctioneer announces but you interrupt him.

“$3000!” you shout. You slowly begin to revel in excitement as he begins his finalizing of the sale.

“$3000, do I heard $3100? Going once, twice, SOLD!! To the man in the black leather jacket!” He announced. You remain quiet but inside you are ecstatic. Finally, you get it. The painting that has been haunting your dreams drawing you in.

You grab your ticket, signifying that you are to purchase the painting and walk to the requisition desk. You stare at the receptionist and hand them your card. They sort through several items looking for the art, but that's when they find it. They bring it up to the desk and place it on it.  You pay for it and receive this horrid painting. You will never understand why you bought it, but that's matters little now. You take it home and hang it behind your couch. It fits the spot perfectly.

Over the next several days you notice something strange. The painting seems to move when you aren't around. After the third day, you stand in front of your couch staring at it, almost hypnotized and lost in thought. The painting seems to draw you in, emanating innocence. You know you should be questioning why this paint is moving when you aren't around, but something about it keeps you wanting more, so you never question it.

A loud knock on your door snaps you out of your trance, and you leave the room.  When you answer the door, it's your mother. She has a worried look on her face but seems to loosen up once you respond to the door.

“Thank heavens; you haven't answered the phone in at least three days, James Alexander!” She says in a half angry, half worried tone.

“I'm sorry mother; I've just been preoccupied is all,” You reply, trying to soothe her.

“It's okay; I'm glad you are fine.” She says relieved. You invite her in, and we sit down in the kitchen to have a long boring discussion about how lazy my father is and other family dramas. you listen to her to humor her but after a couple of hours she stands up.

“Well I should really be going now, I need to see if your good for nothing father will mow the yard tomorrow or if I'll have to do it.” she says annoyed.

“Mom, why don't you just ask? I’ll be there at 8 am tomorrow to do it.” You tell her with a smile on my face.

“Jimmy, no need.” she answers.

“Alright, well I'll see you tomorrow then, right?” You ask as a smirk curls onto my lip.

“If you insist,” she replies as a smile curves onto her mouth, and she shrugs her shoulders. You lead her out of the house and return to the living room, where the painting resides.

You look at the picture for something is very wrong. The man in the piece of art is gone like completely disappeared. You stare in awe; it’s one thing for it to be moving but for it to be gone entirely is very troubling. You become lost in a trance once again, staring at the now empty painting.

You see something from the corner of my eye, and that snaps me back to reality. It was a dark figure, so you turn to face it. It's a man in a suit; it's the same man from the painting. He has a knife in his hand and bloodlust in his eyes. He remains still while we continue our stare off. You look away to look out the window and to see that it's now dark outside. You are stunned by this; your mother was just here, and it was daylight. How long did you stare at the empty painting? Only the man in front of you knows for sure.

He lunges at you, stabbing the knife through the air in your direction. You were slow to react but still barely dodged a lethal slice. He cut your shoulder, and you are bleeding, but this has now become a fight for your life. You turn around and run through your home and pick up a fire poker from the fireplace and turn around to defend yourself, but he is gone.

You stand there tensed up, waiting for him to show himself once again, but you start to feel the wind on the back of your neck. You turn around to see what it is.

“Boo!” he says and stabs his knife towards you once again. You step back and block with the fire poker you picked up. The slicing, grinding sound of the knife is all that's heard while his blade rubs against your tool.

You run away again and find your way to your room. You lock the door behind you and hide in the closet. You reach your hand into your pocket to find your cell phone but there is no service. The closest makes you claustrophobic being as it's so small but it's the best you can do while this killer is in your house. You hear the floorboards creaking outside your room, and somebody jiggles the handle.

It's him. you think as you contemplate your situation. An idea finally strikes you now that you can think clearer. You step out of the closet and go to the window, but it won't open, you check the lock, still nothing. Getting frustrated you forcefully swing your weapon at the window. Nothing happens, all you hear is a loud ping. You begin to get angry and scared at the same time. Goosebumps form on your arms. That strange wind feeling is on the back of your neck once again.

“Hello, James.” You hear behind you, but before you can turn around, you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your back and into your chest. As you look down at your chest, you see the point of the knife poking through your shirt and blood pouring out like a crimson waterfall. The blade is slowly retracted, and you turn around to see the face of the man in the painting once again.

“You are but one of few my boy.” He says as he watches you fall to your knees. Your fire poker is still tight in your grasp. You don't give up, even with death staring you in the face like you're staring into a mirror looking at the ghost of yourself. You reach up with your rod iron bar and shove it with all your might into his chest. He seems to be genuinely surprised at this.

In the next instant, he begins to howl something demonic, and his body starts to glow.

“What have you done? You ruined it all.” He shouts, His body burst into white fire and what you can only describe as white wisp’s begin to fly from his mouth but this is the last thing you see before blacking out entirely.

You wake up completely unharmed and appear to be laying down. You sit up and look around. It appears to be a therapist's office, and a man is seated at a desk filling out some paperwork, but when he hears you stand up he looks up. A feeling of utter terror fills your being as you stare at the face of the man who just killed you. You begin to panic and attack him but with your aggressive thunder, he pulls a gun from his desk before you reach him. You don't care and keep charging him but feel a piercing pain in your leg, and you hear a quiet pew in the air. Before you know it you are blacked out and on the ground once again.

You wake up from the darkness in a padded cell, and you now realize you are home. This was your room. You hear the sound of sliding metal from your door, and a voice comes from the small square opening.

“James, you have experienced no change and shall remain in solitary until our next session. That is all.” The masculine voice says.

“Fuck you, Dr. Angel.” You shout before the metal slides back, and the light disappears from your room once again.