When you woke up, your mind was hazy. You couldn’t remember a single thing. All you could feel was open wounds and a throbbing headache that pounded around your brain.

You looked up to see a surgeon, a tall man with eerie blue eyes. You saw the surgical mask, and his gloves, stained with blood. Was it your blood? It couldn’t have been.

“You’re awake,” he spoke, his voice cool and calm. He stroked your wounds that ran down your stomach. Large stitches and surgical scars. “I have a couple more things I’d like to do. Do you mind?”