I woke up back inside my cell. The gown I wore, covered in sweat and blood, was replaced with a clean one. My body was also no longer bloody and sweaty. I looked at my arms and legs. The areas that were spewing blood from scraping against the cuffs were bandaged neatly. The chain was also back.

I remembered the feeling when the liquid flowed into me, and my stomach churned. I ran to the toilet and vomited into it, until only the yellow digestive fluid came out at the end. I then staggered back to bed, covered myself with a blanket and cried.

The following days were hell. I would be put to sleep without warning, tied up in the chair, and the blue liquid would be pumped into my body. Everytime, the vine would then move, its roots digging further and deeper, and the pain would increase ten fold.

I could never keep myself awake and always faint halfway through - thankfully, and would wake up in the cell with my body and clothes cleaned. After I fall asleep crying, the day would end - I was too tired for nightmares to come. Rinse and repeat. The only difference was that the man was no longer present in the lab to witness my screams.

I thought I could get used to the pain. It got worse instead. In the first few days, the vine was only active when the liquid was administered, and I could still sleep in peace. Then they increased the number of sessions. 

The liquid would be pumped twice per day instead of once, which meant doubling the pain, and it didn’t stop there. Now, even after I was put back in my cell, the vine would every now and then act up, sometimes in the middle of the night. 

Not just my back, but my whole body felt like there were maggots crawling inside. 

It was painful to the point where I would slam my head and fist into the walls in madness, covering them in blood. A few days later, the walls would be covered in foam. There was now a thick carpet on the floor. The toilet was switched from the sitting to the squatting kind, so I couldn’t ram myself into it. The bed was also taken away and only the mattress remained.

I tried to see if I could starve myself to death. But partly because I kept vomiting everything out on a regular basis, and partly because the food smelled so good to the point of being unbelievable despite being the same white tasteless dough and soup every time, that I couldn’t resist the urge to eat. I would tear up as I ate, frustrated with myself.

×

Even I, who never paid attention to my looks, could tell that my body was changing radically. My hair was growing extremely fast. It used to be only two centimeters long, but now it was covering my ears and touching the back of my neck. It was also gradually turning white. 

My voice was getting higher, or at least it was until I lost it. I had been screaming and crying so much that my vocal cord gave in, and now all I could do was make a growling noise with my throat like an old man without his teeth.

My height seemed to be getting lower as well. I was already short for guys my age, which made it even worse. The gown, which used to only cover up to my knees, now looked like a long dress. 

My skin, which was already pretty soft, was getting even softer, more pale and glossy. My arms and legs were becoming thiner and thiner. Not the losing weight sort of thin, but as if my bones themselves were shrinking. The same thing was happening to my waist, my ribs, and most regretfully, my buddy down there as well.

In contrast, my chest was getting bigger, and now there were two small bulges protruding from my ribcage. 

I couldn’t understand this change. Was it the liquid that was causing it, or was the culprit the vine that was consuming my body? I didn’t know, and no one told me either. They just kept torturing me for days on end. Everytime I looked at my now thin, smooth and pale arms, I teared up. I was afraid that the ‘me’ as I knew it was disappearing.