As he fought to awaken, he became aware of a foreign feeling at the end of his right arm. He realized that someone- something- was grasping at his hand. That had never happened before. Without fully realizing it, his hand clenched of its own accord. His eyes opened and glared daggers at the demon that was so presumptuous as to touch him. Something had reached up and was attempting to pry his fingers away. Sudden nausea overtook him and his grip relaxed. The figure snatched its hand away. Looking down, he noticed something bright on his hand. Except... he didn't remember them cutting him open this time. He didn't feel the familiar pain of a healing wound. Something was stuck under his nails, but he couldn't quite tell what it was.

His eyes focused on his fingertips, aware of a new, alarming fact. Nails. He had nails. Before, they had been so carefully trimmed by his captors. His shoulders relaxed and he became aware of sound coming from the right of him. His ears struggled to hear the sound of multiple voices, coming from the monsters. A single voice stood out to him.

"Get out. You'll scare him even more! I'm okay, I swear!" The source of the sound seemed to be on the verge of tears. How did he know what that would sound like? Ignoring the movement that continued at his side, he stared at his hand. The wet was starting to go away, growing even darker on his fingertips. The sounds went away, leaving him alone.

No, one still remained. He had the urge to stretch his hands up to its neck in order to take away its life like they had done to him over the course of many years. He longed to see firsthand the peace that would come after the struggling. A tugging at his arms. He had forgotten about the straps that limited his movement.

A sound from his right. He must have lapsed out. Turning his head, he saw the demon sitting on a chair next to him, concealing something in its hand with a cloth. Calm eyes met his crazed ones. Why was its face shimmering like that? He didn't know any wet thing that wasn't brightly colored. His eyes traveled from the thing to the tips of his fingers, frantically trying to make sense of the situation. Are there... different types of wet?

He remembered the demon was seemingly waiting for him. Patience was not a thing any of them had. Was it trying to trick him? He wouldn't let himself fall for its tricks. He made eye contact with the creature once again. Surrounded by white was a pool of dark, almost black. He stared into the abyss, pleading for something, anything.

A sound came from the monster, but he was too focused on its eyes to listen. Maybe he should listen, but any speech that came out of the thing came out garbled like a secret code. After a while of the thing making nonsensical sounds with no response from him, it moved away, out of his line of sight. The room went out of focus as he was forcefully dragged back into the clutches of sleep and the nightmares that he knew would follow.