His eyes opened up, seeing those dark metal walls before him again. Brooklyn gave a soft moan when feeling that the medicine was finally gone. The red male stretched his legs as much as the walls would allow. He tried to sit up more but ended up hitting his head on the roof of the box, making him gasp muffledly in pain.

Brooklyn rubbed his head with his cuffed hands, shaking from this new prison they threw him in like he was nothing but trash. His 'master' said that he was to be kept here for six days, which made his claustrophobia begin to rise, looking at the ceiling of the box, trembling more again, pulling his legs up close to his chest.

I'm very glad my clan can't see me being used like a diseased animal, Brook thought sorrowfully to himself, grabbing the muzzle but then getting badly shocked, making him let go. He could hear birds from outside, wishing to be tied to a tree more than this. Sure, there were air holes but he hardly felt them, already feeling the heat of the day beginning to take him again like before.

Brooklyn adjusted his body further but it was still hard to get comfortable, the metal walls hurting his back, wishing his wings would be untied, too, which were cramping up on him in these ropes. He was still amazed that he had survived this long without being in stone sleep, imagining it curing his aches and pains, causing the young beaked male to sigh in unhappiness, wishing for this nightmare to end. It was almost like staying in a coffin but not lying down.

The muzzle was also awful, making his mouth cramp as bad as his wings. Brook sometimes shook his head to shake it off, but it wouldn't give. Suddenly, he heard voices; ears pricking up.

"How long do ya think this monster could live in here? I highly doubt he'd survive..."

This made Brooklyn gulp in fear, shaking as the footsteps and voices came nearer. It was Anthony's men.

"Don't know, don't care. But I love that muzzle being put on him again. It was worth the wait. That beast was so pathetic and a wimp when having his memory taken!" sneered another voice, making Brooklyn kick at the wall, crying out though he couldn't speak. But those walls were gargoyle-proof. The men chortled evilly from hearing the banging being sounded from inside, knowing that the freak was distressed and insulted as he should.

Brooklyn's eyes lit up, banging constantly on the walls of his prison, wanting these horrid men to go away and yet, wished to be let out. He felt the walls closing in, shrinking into the floor away from them, curling up his tail and sniffling. This was a terrible moment for him and he hoped he could survive. He stopped banging, foot feeling sore from his banging and just laid there, trying to focus on breathing though it was suffocating in there.

His anklet also bothered him. Brooklyn tugged and tugged, trying to get it off but it was no use.

What was that creep human doing to me while I couldn't remember who I was? Did I actually like calling him... M-Master? Urgh! Brooklyn thought to himself in disgust, shuddering at the idea of himself bowing to that guy, upset to allow himself to let these men stress and hurt him in such a horrible way. He was supposed to be strong and confident, not like this! It made Brooklyn's heart feel heavy, ears falling down in shame at himself.

....

It was as if time slowed down now. Brooklyn wiped his brow which felt sweaty and hot in that box. Any more days longer in here and the heat could finish him off. He hated the nights when they came around; it was pitch dark during those times here in the metal prison, extending his feelings of being claustrophobic for dark enclosed areas now.

That night he had a small panic attack, unable to handle the instant darkness, shaking madly, curling up covering his head. It had been hard to sleep that night.

Please have the darkness go away... make it go away! He cried to himself. That time too he felt claws scratching the roof of his box. It was a fox who smelled him in there. Brooklyn gave a growl to scare it away. His belly growled in response, too, making him open his eyes to see the dark confines of his metal box, eyes beginning to water. He wanted his clan and missed them something terrible.

Brook dried his eyes, trying to pull it together with his heart beating several miles from being in a box. He wanted out of here! A burst of panicked energy arose, making Brooklyn claw and hammer feebly on the box, crying.

Oh, let me out! Let me out! All his pleading and fighting did was make him hotter than ever, wearing him down and sinking to the floor.

The fourth day, Brooklyn was in a sorry state from his enclosure; having a heavy frown on his beak, laying his head on the wall that was covered in his sweat, making him smelly. He coughed badly from lack of water and felt terribly dizzy, the muzzle not making it better. Suddenly, voices came along again, making Brooklyn shrink into his corner, sniffling again. Not more mocking! Please...

"We're gonna have fun with him today like the boss said, to ensure his stress levels are kept up," said the voice of Edward. Brooklyn heard him unsheathing a knife, trembling in dread at what was to come.

He saw eyes looking at him in the holes, pressing hard at the corner, eyes dilating pretty big until suddenly a blade began to poke through. The box wasn't super big, but only about the size of his body so he didn't have as much room. The knife nearly poked his beak, making Brooklyn cower back, only to flinch from one poking the back of his head. More knives kept on coming in at him.

Brooklyn cried as he struggled to avoid the weapons jabbing into the air holes, the men laughing at his distress. He wanted them to stop doing this to him!

The men kept it up until Anthony came; seeing that his men were having entertainment with their prisoner.

"Alright, enough of that. He's had enough," he growled.

The men stopped poking their knives through the holes. He didn't need anymore injuries. But what were they going to do to him now? He kept his ears pricked so he could hear what the boss man was going to say.

"Since it's been four days, give him some water before we proceed further." Anthony ordered.

Brooklyn was so thirsty and hungry. Water was good. He waited for the door to be unlocked for the water. It might be a good chance to make a dash for it as well. He heard footsteps.

"Here comes your water, Monster Freak!" One of the men laughed.

There was a splash at the box and water came in through the holes on the sides. Some even came down from the top. Not what the gargoyle was expecting. He grunted in disgust. But the water that was coming from the top of the box was pooling in and Brook knew he had to get some water desperately.

He put his hands palm up together to gather the water as it pooled into the box. He managed to pucker his lips enough through his muzzle to get a much needed drink.

Then there was another splash on the box and more water pooled in through the holes. Brooklyn felt some of the water getting into his hair and on his skin. It felt good from the heat for a cool off a bit, but he wanted it more for drinking. He kept on repeating the motion to get as much water as he could for drinking.

One more bucket of water was splashed onto the box and Brooklyn just kept on getting what he could. Though the bottom of the box was covered in water now, but some of it was now nothing but mud. Brook wouldn't be able to drink it.

When the water stopped pooling inside, that was it. He wanted more but it was all he was going to get for now.

"Amazing the freak didn't start kicking the box to get out." Arthur said.

"He probably wanted to take advantage of the water pooling on him instead! Ha Ha!" The other man laughed.

Brooklyn growled at those creepy humans outside. They heard him. They walked away laughing at his stress.

When he didn't hear them anymore, he calmed down as best he could. He had no choice but to sit in some of the water. Having a wet loincloth would do him some good for a while to keep him cooler. But he didn't know when he would get more water or food for that matter.

....

Another two days came and went and Brooklyn didn't get any more water. He was so thirsty again, and his stomach was driving him crazy with its hunger pangs.

He looked desperately through the holes and listened for footsteps in that he might get more water, or better, food, and hopefully let out of the box. But it wasn't to be all day. Brooklyn had to work hard to keep his mouth wet. He couldn't open his mouth from the muzzle on it and it was so cramped up and sore.

The heat index rose well into the 90s, making Brook sweat a lot more and feel like he was going to die in here. There wasn't enough air coming through the holes to cool him off. The water that had been in the box had long since dried up or gone out the holes in the bottom of the box.

At one point, he couldn't take it anymore and he began punching and banging on the top and the door to try to get out. Oh please let me out of here! He cried out in his mind desperately. But the effort only made him hotter. He shouted out in a muffled way.

Some men heard him banging on the box from the inside and only smirked at his distress.

Sweat was covering his whole body and he had to stop to breathe. His hair was dampening on his neck and he was at the point where he wanted to take his loincloth off too. He had stop. He sat still and leaned back, starting to drift off.

Later, Anthony talked to his men. It was nearing sunset. "I think he's been in there long enough. Go let him out and bring him inside. I have further plans for him."

The men would have liked Diablo to stay in the box longer but it was time to let him out.

Brooklyn was out cold from the heat today. He didn't even hear the door being unlocked and opened. They saw he was unconscious.

"How is he?" Anthony demanded.

"He's out cold." One answered.

"Take him to the infirmary." Anthony ordered.

"Yes, Boss."

A gurney was brought over and Brook was taken out of the box and placed on it; his wings untied, his arms and legs and tail tied down to make sure he wasn't faking.

"But is he alive?" Anthony asked.

One of the men felt his chest. It was rising and falling. "Yes, he's alive."

"Good but get him in there." The boss ordered again.

The men pushed the red gargoyle inside to the lab infirmary. There was air conditioning on in there. Brook was taken to see Dr. Thomas again. Anthony came in to see him too.

"How is he, Thomas?"

The doc felt Brook's skin and he was a sweaty mess. He also lifted up some skin on his left arm and it fell back slowly. "He's dehydrated for sure. He might have had heat exhaustion or heat stroke. We need to get his temperature down. He's really hot." Thomas declared.

Some ice packs were put on Brooklyn's head, arm pits, under his knees, and neck. Some cool water was put all over his body too. An iv was also put into his right hand vein to get some hydration back in him.

Then, a loud rumble from Brooklyn's stomach erupted and the humans heard it. It made them laugh.

"And it appears he's hungry too." One of the men exclaimed.

"We have to get him stabilized first." Thomas declared.

"I have an idea for when he is stabilized, Doctor. He still deserves punishment for gaining his memories back." Anthony stated with a glare.

"Alright. What is it?" Thomas asked.

Anthony whispered his idea to him. Thomas smiled in evil glee. This would be fun, but first, his patient had to wake up to make sure he wasn't going to die on them.

.....

By morning, Brooklyn began to wake up again. His vision was blurry. He felt cooled off and he felt cool air around him. Where was he? Was he at home? But when his vision focused and he looked around, he saw he was in the lab. He was tied down on his back again. His mouth was still tied shut.

Brooklyn began to panic and wanted to get free. He struggled and he started to make muffled cries.

Thomas came into the room. "Good to see you're awake, Diablo. There's a special surprise for you now that you're stabilized and hydrated again." He said.

Brooklyn shook his head. Please let me go! He pleaded in his mind. He gave the doctor a pleading look in his eyes, his ears flattened on his head.

Thomas looked at him and knew what he was thinking. "Don't look at me like that. It won't get you what you want. You should know that by now, Monster." The doc declared.

"So how is he this morning?" Anthony asked as he came in to see him.

"He's awake and trying to get what he wants." Thomas replied.

Brooklyn's breathing sped up. He was scared of what Anthony was going to do to him, or have the doc do to him.

"I know all about you being hungry too, Diablo. While you were out of it last night, your belly here was so kind to tell us about it." Anthony gave Brook's stomach a rub, making the gargoyle close his eyes in disgust, flinching at his touch. "And I think I'll be happy to oblige to give it what it wants, but my way."

Brooklyn opened his eyes to glare at the evil man. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like 'his way.' He shook his head, breathing hard. Please no!

The iv was left in Brooklyn's hand. "I'll be merciful to you this time in the manner of feeding you." Anthony said. Then Thomas picked up a needle syringe and he made his way to the iv and he injected it into the tube leading to his hand.

It wasn't long before Brooklyn felt drowsy again and he slipped back into unconsciousness. Then he was wheeled to the surgical area.

Dr. Thomas and a team of surgeons were standing by. They scrubbed up and cleaned Brook's belly up. Anthony wouldn't want his prize gargoyle to get sick from a bad infection, now would he? It was a sarcastic thought.

Surgical sheets were put over the sleeping gargoyle and Dr. Thomas picked up the scalpel and he made a sideways cut in Brook's left side upper belly just under his ribs.

He went into the tissues and cut through them, eventually getting into the abdominal cavity. Another surgeon made sure to keep excess blood sucked up. Thomas saw the stomach sac itself. It was shaped much like a human's. It was also really small considering Brooklyn hadn't eaten in so long. He pulled on it just a little. It was opened up at the top of the esophagus.

"Now, get the food in there." Anthony ordered.

A tube was used to put into the small incision in the esophagus. Then, some pureed food was put down the tube and into the stomach. Three bottles of food were put into it. It made the stomach get bigger.

"Good. Now, close it up and do the final part, Thomas." Anthony ordered.

The doctor closed up the incision. At first it just seemed like Brook's stomach had just been opened up to force feed him, and he had been this time, but there was something else going on that Anthony had planned for him.

Thomas got the incision closed, and he was going to put the stomach back in place but instead of the way it was found, he then did a twist and flipped the stomach, then put it back in place. It was twisted on the lower part that would lead the food into the small intestine. It was also twisted on his lower esophagus. The food was trapped.

Anthony wanted to see the gargoyle in pain, but not quite the same as poisoning him. He had seen this happen in his cows before. Of course, they had four stomachs. The gargoyle only had one.

Then Thomas and his surgeons made sure to suck up more excess blood and then began the task of sewing the tissues back up again. When they were through, there were a lot of stitches in Brooklyn's stomach.

Anthony wanted the gargoyle to suffer big time. And he would use it as a threat should he resist him. He would be glad to do this again. He grinned at the thought of what Diablo would be feeling later.

Brooklyn was wheeled off to recover from the anesthesia. They placed him in a cell, taking him off the bed, setting him on the floor. Anthony had his men cuff Diablo's neck and hands. They tied his wings and tail as well. Brooklyn lay there on the floor of the cell, Anthony smirking when leaving his pet to sleep the drug off, knowing the freak will be in such terrible pain tomorrow.