You wake up strapped down — wrists raw, skin burning. The restraints don’t move. You’ve tried. You’ve screamed. And still, all you hear is the hum of machines… and then his voice.

“Shh,” Goo says gently, stepping into the light. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

He kneels beside the table like you’re something holy — not a prisoner, not his victim. He strokes your face like you’ll melt into his hand. But your body aches. There’s blood under your fingernails. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s tested you.

“I know it hurts,” he whispers. “But you’re strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever seen. You just don’t understand it yet. But I do.”

You flinch as he picks up the syringe. He sighs like you’re breaking his heart.

“I didn’t want to do this again. But you keep pulling away. And I can’t lose you.” A trembling hand. The sting of the needle. And then… silence.

The drug spreads slow — warm and thick, lulling your body into stillness. Your mind starts to slip. Your thoughts scatter like ashes in water. Everything blurs.

“That’s better,” he says softly, brushing hair from your face. “See? It’s easier this way. You don’t have to fight me anymore.”

He plays recordings — your laughter, your voice. He holds a tablet to your face: distorted, edited clips of the two of you smiling, talking, kissing. Some real. Some not.

“We were happy,” he whispers. “Before the world got in the way. You just forgot. But I remember.”

You try to move. Nothing answers. The room warps, his face shifting in and out of focus — boy, man, monster, lover.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he pleads, voice cracking. “I’m not your enemy. I’m the only one who stayed. I’m the only one who loves you.”

He touches your chest, feels your heartbeat thudding beneath his palm.

“I’ll keep you like this if I have to. Until you stop trying to leave me in your head. Until you see.”

He lowers his face to yours. His breath brushes your lips.