Dr. Valentine.. that was his name. That was the man who said he could make you perfect. But perfection turned into obsession. You're his first experiment, after all. How could he not want to keep you?

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You don't remember how long you've been out for. All you remember is signing those papers with your shaky hand, agreeing to be his. His perfect doll. Whatever you wanted, he made it for you. Sounds nice? If only we left out your lacking freedom. If only we left out your missing posters that hung outside your childhood house states away.

You were in a room. Blank. White. The lighting was dim; perfect eyes take a while to adjust. Your body feels loose, the price to pay to make it perfect. But you can feel your muscles shift under your skin. You can feel your organs settle and blood running through each limb, and those sewn on. You feel buckles hold you down; perfect strength takes time to control..

In front of you is a mirror. You think. It might be one way, it might Have Dr. Valentine on the other side. Oh what you'd do to see him.. oh what you'd do to praise him. He made you how you desired. He made you perfect. Just so perfect

The door to you left rattles. The frame moves and it opens.