(Y/N)- Your name

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Please! Please! Continue! This is the best part! Hahahahaha!

Enjoy C01!

(Rainbow) -You -Creativity

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     It was dinner time already.

You were sure that you wouldn't get any sleep, knowing that you were going to the lab tomorrow. Not knowing what was going to happen is torture for you.

A stray tear rolls down your face, and onto the cuttingboard you were using. You push the knife down, slicing the potato in two.

You let your feelings go numb as you finnish dinner, turning the oven to 350°.

You glance over at the kitchen knife. It was long, sharp, and silver. The handle had a good grip, and it was made to not rust. It would work for what you planned to do with it.

No... No... You aren't going to kill one of the lab employees. You know full well that you can't over power any of them. You have a different use for that knife.

You pick it up, and slip it into the folds of your hospital rags. Then you finnish preparing the food, and nonchalantly set the table. You slip the knife into a drawer, in the dresser by the stairs. That was where that broken vase used to be.

Now, once Daniel finnished eating, you could slip it out of the drawer before you go down stairs. You do all of the cooking now, so he won't even notice the knife is gone.

You ring the bell, and step aside as Daniel walks in. Your head hangs low, because you don't want to watch him eat. Watching only makes the pangs of hunger in your own stomach worse.

He walks towards the table, but then he passes it, instead walking over to you. He grabs your chin, feircly yanking it. You cry out in pain, and he forces you to look at him.

"Hmm... You look excited! Ready for tomorrow?"
He says. He smirks at you, and you try to flinch away. His grip on your chin is steel.

He points your face at the table, uttering a single word. A word that starts the torture that is every meal.

"Watch!"
You look down again.

"Bbzzzzz!"
Your neck starts to burn everywhere the dog colar is touching.

You whine, pulling at the colar in an attempt to relieve the pain. You only earn snickers from Daniel.

"I said watch, and you didn't! So watch!"
He repeats the shock until your head snaps up.

Painfully you watch as he shoves the food in his mouth. Your stomach writhes in agony and longing, and you clutch it with one hand. The bruises on your torso burn as you put pressure on your empty stomach. The cuts along your arms sting when you bend them, and the scratches on your neck burn when the dog colar rubs them.

You hate this! You are not some animal!

You are a human being! This is illegal!

Sadly, you know they don't care about any of those things.

He finally ends the meal as he stands, leaving you to clean up his plate.

YES! There is one half of a potato still sitting on the table. You greedily snatch it, shoving it into your face.

A mess of potato mush coats the table, but you will have to wipe it down any way. You savor the buttery and savory taste of the potato, a satisfied sound escaping your throat. The delicious food slides into your stomach, and it growls in satisfaction.

Your stomach is not close to being full, but you are as full as you have been in the whole week and a half that you have been here.

Has it really only been a week? It feels as if you have been here for months. You don't even know, or care, what day of the week it is.

As the water of the sink hits your hands, the several gashes start to burn. You whince, biting your tongue in an effort not to squeal. You taste blood.

The dishes are complete, and you wipe down the table.

"C01! GET YOUR LAZY ASS IN HERE THIS MINUTE!"
Daniel screams. You quickly turn off the faucet before scrambling into the living room.

"y-y-yes?"

"Sit down."

This confused you. He wanted you to sit next to him? You comply, taking a seat next to him. This must be one of his bipolar moments with you. One minute he will scream at you, and the next his pervy hand is on your cheek. He hasn't ever done anything with you though.

To your immense horror, he slithers an arm around your thin waist. You try to shrug it away, but he pulls you towards him as you squeal.

"Now now! Don't squirm, or you will only make this worse!"
He says, sliding a finger down your arm. You shiver.

You pull away again, this time attempting to slap him.

He swiftly grabs your hand, his iron grip hurting the bruises there. He cooes out an apology, one that is not at all sincere.

What is this? You have only seen the abusive side of him. Who new he would be a perv? This only makes your living situation worse. Did he just get bored of simply hitting you? Now he has to use you too? You squirm, trying your hardest to get away from him. His ring clinks against the metal armband.

His hand slithers up your gown, and hell begins.

[¤=++{}++=¤]
(There is no way I am going to describe that. But just so you know, there was no hooking up, just touching, maybe kissing, and other sexual happenings. This guy is an abusive perv with a very bipolar personality towards you.
[¤=++{}++=¤]

     You yank down the hem of your gown, sprinting towards your room in the basement. Those moments will haunt you in your nightmare for a very long time.

You remember the knife, and quietly slide it out of the drawer as you head to the basement. You open your door, closing it with a sigh of relief. Your door has no lock, but he never comes down here.

You pull the string on your only source of light, sitting on your cot. You pull the knife out of your hospital rags.

You are done with this! You need something to stop the pain! You don't want to live if you have to live here. They haven't even done any experiments with you yet!

You point the knife towards yourself, touching the point to your gown. The fabric bends to it's will, and the point hits your stomach.

Time to end this torture.

But...

You hesitate.

But Sans!

Would you really want to...

If it would put him through the same torture?

You pull the knife away, and settle it onto your arm.

This would have to do for now. It wasn't complete relief, but it took your attention away from this torture, for a little while.

You press down, quickly sliding it across your wrist. The cut was shallow, but it still stung.

You repeat this until there are 6 marks on your wrist.

Satisfied for now, you slide the knife between the cot and the wall, keeping it out of sight. Then you lay down, watching the blood drip o to the floor.

You were gonna have to clean that later.