CWs: Gore, noncon body mod (amputation), probably not accurate medical procedures, description of gore/dissection of an arm (?)
Gore will be under the cut and in italics, skip pats the italicized section if you don't want to read gore.
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You accepted the rubber bit.
Wordlessly you opened your mouth, allowing Berkley to forcefully shove it in, and bit down. Your vision was blurring now to the point you could look at the would-be corpse and not feel sick. Though you weren’t sure if it was the result of your erratic breaths or the seemingly infinite number of tears that stung your eyes, or more likely- a combination of the two. You watched as the blurry mass slowly hobbled around the room to gather various equipment, only to be brought back and placed neatly on a rolling metal cart beside you. You forced yourself not to look at the tools he’d grabbed.
You saw the glow in his eyes flicker for just a second before he finally turned to you and gave an incoherent gurgle. That was all the warning he gave before he started.
—
He started with a scalpel. Cutting a thin, deep line down the forearm of the arm you’d used to hit him over the railing. Then cutting two shorter lines at the top and bottom of the first. Gloved hands expertly pulled apart flesh. Your flesh. He reached back to the table and found a pair or clamps, allowing him full access to skin, muscle, blood and bone. If you could think anything beyond the pain, you might have felt disturbed by how skilled he seemed.
He cut thin slices out of muscle and tissue, along with delicately shaving scraping pieces of bone off, and placed them in a metal dish on the cart. Through your screaming that felt so distant from your own body, you briefly asked yourself what those could possibly be for…
Once the last sample was placed he put down the scalpel and removed the clamps, closing the flaps of flesh. He then steadily began the process of stitching the intrusion up. You forced yourself to breathe through the pain, even though your head was swimming. That had to be it, right? He’d said he wouldn’t kill you…
It was not in fact “it”...
Once he’d finished with the stitches, done with clinical perfection, your heart leapt as he reached for the strap around your wrist. But rather than undoing it, he made it tighter. Much tighter. So tight it was cutting off what little blood flow there was. Your heart sank again, a fresh wave of terror washing through you as you watched him pick up a saw and hold it over your hand. You wailed into the bit, pleading, begging. You went ignored.
New, sharp pain exploded at the first pass along your wrist. The next dozen were no easier. You screwed your eyes shut and screamed until your voice couldn’t take it anymore. Then the sawing stopped… And all you heard echoing in your ears was the wet, fleshy thud of your hand joining the previous chunks.
Swiftly he got to work in closing and bandaging the gaping wound.
—
You didn’t dare open your eyes until you’d heard him push the cart and all it’s… Contents… Away from sight. Your whole body screamed at you in pain. And any hope of fighting or running were wiped from thought. Not when your tormentor could do what he’d just done. He gestured for you to open your mouth again and you obeyed without hesitation, allowing the bit to be removed.
It was then that the doors swung open. Berkley wasn’t alone in this place…
What do you do?
Lift your head to look who was coming
Don't look; you'd rather not know
close your eyes and let your body crash into "sleep"
You reached out your hand, touching the sleeping man's shoulder, and gently shaking it. You pulled your hand back when his eyelids moved and his hand twitched. You waited a few seconds as nothing else happened and began to reach out to try again. Only for the “sleeping” man the recoil from your touch. His eyes shot open and he scrambled to quickly get out of your reach.
You paused watching him with wide eyes. He seemed scared… Of you? You tilted your head, putting your hand up in a placating gesture. One thing you noticed about the cowering man now was that his eyes were still black, but the irises were a different color. Presumably, they were back to what they were originally, instead of Berkley’s eye color. He stared back at you, watching for any sudden movements.
“Whatever he did to you, I had nothing to do with it.” Eventually his small voice spoke, clearly afraid. His eyes were staring at where your missing hand would be, and his own hand thumbed over his shoulder with his prosthetic.
“Did he do that to you too?” You calmly ask, gesturing to his prosthetic. He nodded. “And he took you too? You aren’t helping him?”
He tensed up, “That’s a… Complicated question. Yes he took me. No I don’t help him willingly. But he has… Leverage.”
“Leverage?” You raised an eyebrow, caution ringing in your mind.
“It’s… Also complicated… But yes. He has ways to make me do things.”
“Like earlier? When you came and got me. Was that-?”
“Possession.” He interrupted. “But that’s only half of the picture.”
“What the fuck do you mean possession? You’re the one that looks like-” you paused, gesturing to his horns and eyes. “Well… Something that can possess people…”
“A demon?” He hesitantly offered.
“Exactly… But that’s-”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I am. And I’m not the only one. If you wanna survive here you’ll get used to it.” His voice seemed more forceful than it had been. Not as scared anymore. At least not of you.
“Is Berkley a demon?” You asked, not quite sure if you would rather one answer or the other.
“No…” He paused and glanced at the door. “He’s an angel… And a powerful rogue one at that.”
“That thing is an angel?!” You shouted, making the man cover his ears.
“He is.” His voice was quiet again, and he shrank away slightly. But he spoke with such finality you didn’t doubt it. What use would he have for lying? And today had already been so crazy it might as well be true.
“What’s your name?” You changed the topic, wanting at least some sense of normalcy. If you were gonna be here for a while you might as well get to know the other people living under this maniac’s thumb.
“Rain. My name is Rain.” He offered, straightening up slightly. You got the sense he hadn’t been asked that question in quite a long time, and he hadn’t been expecting you to ask it. “Yours?”
“You can call me Mx. Doe. Or just Doe. That’s what I told Berkley to call me. I don’t want that crazy knowing my actual name…” You gave a gentle smile at the man.
It was two figures. The taller one shuffled quickly towards where Berkly was somewhere out of view, a quick gasp of surprise and concern. They spared you a quick glance as they passed. They looked very worried. Though if it was a worry for you or Berkley himself you weren’t sure.
The shorter figure however walked right up to you. They looked at you with a dead eyed and empty expression. Their eyes were the same as Berkley’s, an unnaturally glowing green. Only this person’s eyes had black where the whites should be, making the glow even more prominent. They moved stiffly, but swiftly, as they undid the straps pinning you to the operating table. Steadily they helped you sit up. Not that you wanted too of course… But you were far too tired and far too weak to fight back even the slightest right now. And, though you hated to admit it, they were being gentle… And you were afraid of the loss of that almost kind touch after something so traumatic.
They leaned you against them as they picked you up into a bridal carry, your amputated wrist left on the outside so as to not irritate the wound. Your head was spinning and everything was finally going fuzzy again. You focused on the pain radiating up your arm to keep you awake as they carried you off to somewhere else in the lab. You didn’t know how long you were being carried for when they stopped in front of a heavy looking door, but it felt like a long time with the snail's pace the person moved at. They shifted you and your feet finally touched the ground. They held you upright as they opened the door for you. You thought that maybe now the gentleness would end, as they would toss you in and lock the door behind you. But instead he walked you in and closed the door behind, which felt somehow just as bad.
The room itself was larger than expected, but not “large” by any stretch of the imagination. It had a mattress against one corner, a medium size trunk placed against another, and a mostly empty bookshelf against the far wall. They walked you over to the mattress and helped you sit down. You watched as they silently took a few stiff steps back, before the glow left their eyes, a pained and deeply regretful expression took over their face, and they crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll. Were it not for the subtle motion of their chest rising and falling you’d think they died… Which leaves you alone for now.
You wait a few minutes to catch your breath, letting yourself slowly come down from the adrenaline rush. But also just to make sure the person in front of you was truly unconscious. You stared down at them, trying to figure out what you could now that you had a chance.
The first thing you noticed was their hand was metal. A prosthetic, you assumed, but you’d check once you got closer. Had Berkley done to this person what he’s done to you? The second thing you noticed was a slight glimmer around them. It looked similar to how heat warps the air around it, but the concrete was definitely cold.
You slipped off the mattress and inched closer, knelt down. You hesitantly pushed up their left sleeve revealing that the metal arm was indeed a prosthetic arm. But theirs went far past their wrist. It went all the way up to their shoulder.
You rolled their sleeve back down and kept looking, an odd sense of empathy for them, and a wave of dread over yourself. Next you decided to look if they had any sort of keys on them. Patting their shirt and pants for pockets. In doing so, the fabric on their shirt shifted and gave you a clear view of their neck. There was what appeared to be a light blue dog collar fastened around it, which you got the feeling it wasn’t there by choice.
You did manage to find their pants pockets, but you didn’t find any keys. Just a pen and some other trinkets, so nothing of use. You did think to check their boots, if only to make sure they weren’t armed. Thankfully they weren’t.
You then shifted towards one of the warped glimmers, reaching your hand out to touch it. Your hand stopped short though as you felt something scaly before retracting your hand in shock, not having expected something solid. Once you touched it though, whatever was making it hidden seemed to go away. As you stared, something started to appear. At first you didn’t know what it was, but then you realized it was a thin tail with a diamond shaped tip. Your eyes widened and then drifted to the glimmers around their head. Now you could see two grey horns growing from the top of their head, long pointed ears, and just the tips of fangs peeking out from his lip.You thought back to the book you read in Berkley’s library and a single word floated to the fore-front of your mind. Demon.
What do you do?
Try and wake him up for answers
Investigate another part of the room (put in tags)
I know it's a shorter one, but I promise next one is gonna be a longer one. (warning that the next installment will have a gore warning. And will be when the physical whump will officially start)
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You chose to investigate downstairs.
Gripping the metal equipment, you hurried down the stairs, only focused hard enough to make sure you didn’t slip and fall. Once you reached the bottom you rushed towards the walls, resolutely refusing to look over at where Berkley’s mangled corpse was laying motionless.
It was pitch black, so you resolved to feel across the wall to find the door. You reached one hand out and placed it against the cold gray wall. Once you made contact though, you jerked your hand back as it felt… Wrong… Wrong like everything else in this hellhole of a place. It felt like the wall was very faintly vibrating. Not like an earthquake tremble, or any normal building strain… But a feeling of life. Of breath.
You shook your head. You didn’t have time for this. You reached your hand against the wall again and… Nothing. Good.
You swiftly swept your hand along the wall, trying to find the shift where the wall becomes the door. Becomes freedom. But as you went… It slowly dawned on you… As you counted too many corners, felt the same ridges over and over, and walked far too long for the size of the room… The door had seemingly disappeared. As this realization hit you, you just froze. Any hope of escape drained out of you as you fully leaned against the wall. You closed your eyes and finally felt the tears forming. Your whole body felt numb.
And then you heard it. The shifting of a body somewhere in the stairwell. You slowly turned your head to see two glowing pinpricks in the darkness staring directly at you.
You were tired, and tired of this shit. You were getting answers whether Berkley wanted to give them or not. You’d had enough. Anger and fear fuel you as you stand up, starting towards the door. But pausing after just a few steps, looking back at the desk. Slowly you turn and head towards that first.
You shoved papers around, eyeing the clean cut envelopes. With a huff you moved to the drawers, yanking them open and digging through until you found it. Your hand wrapped around the weighty piece of metal, and pulled it out. In your hands was an antique looking letter opener, all metal and heavy, but not sharp enough to do much damage if it came down to it.
You hoped it wouldn’t…
Carefully, you slipped it under your shirt and tucked it into your pant’s waist. Then, taking a deep breath and steeling yourself, you finally go to the door and open it. Berkley is standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall.
He greeted you with a smile, pushing himself off. “Ah, good. Mx. Doe, if you’d just follow me, I’ll bring you-”
“No.” Your voice is firm.
“No? I thought-” He tilted his head, fixing you with a confused expression.
“No.” You repeated. “You need to start making sense and answering my questions, now.” You square yourself up and take a step closer. Hoping you came off more intimidating than you felt.
Berkley took a step back, however, ending up back against the wall he’d just pushed off of. “Mx. Doe, I can see you’re very clearly stressed. Let’s-”
“NO!” You lunge forward. “I came in from a road. The woods were dead silent, no hunters, let alone animals. That book was not a fucking fairytale. And whatever that was on the phone was not my parent!”
Berkley flattened himself against the wall. “Mx. Doe. I-I don’t-” he was eyeing you with wide eyes.
“What the hell are you up to Mr.Johnson? Why- and how are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?!” You finally closed the gap.
His arms flung up in front of his face and over his head protectively. As though defending himself from an incoming attack. “Mx. Doe, you’re scaring me. Please… Just Calm down. I don’t understand!” His voice sounded strained. Afraid.
That got you to pause. Maybe you were wrong… Maybe Berkley didn’t know what was going on… Maybe-?
No.
No… You knew you were right. You had to trust yourself… Otherwise, who could you trust?
“Last chance Mr. Johnson.” You set your jaw, bracing yourself to pull the letter opener on him. You were pretty strong. Maybe you could do enough to make a distraction, giving you time to run?
You couldn’t see his face. Couldn’t read his expression. But you could hear his shaky breaths and it sounded like he might be crying… He seemed genuinely afraid. “Please Mx. Doe. I don’t know what you want from me!” he hiccuped.
You took a step back and time seemed to stand still, while moving far too fast, all at the same time. You swiftly pulled the unconventional weapon and rammed forward with all your force. You felt it make contact and break skin somewhere. Though you quickly turned to run, not waiting to see what happened.
However… You didn’t get very far.
Lightning quick, you feel his hands wrap around your wrist. It’s crushingly tight. Pain shoots its way up your arm and makes your head spin. You know before you even look that he broke it.
Before you can even process that, you feel him yank you back, and you’re quickly shoved against the wall. His other hand clamps around your neck. You can still breathe, but just barely.
You get a good look now, and everything about him seems to have shifted.
His smile seems much colder. Though under it you get the sense of amusement. His chest is scratched and bleeding from where you nicked him… But he doesn’t seem phased at all.
The closer you looked now… The more your brain screamed “wrong”. Screamed that what you were looking at was merely an imitation. Something looking human, but was anything but.
“What are you?” You rasp. Kicking out against him, clawing at his arm. Anything. But he was just too strong.
He let go of your crushed wrist and put a finger to his lips. “Shhh. Mx. Doe. Try to save your energy. I quite like you. You’re clever.” He leaned in. “I’d be very disappointed if you turn out yet another failure.”
His eyes glowed, quite literally now that you really looked, with a sick giddiness. His grin, much less comforting, became predatory. And his grip became crushing, leaving you gasping for air.“Now, Mx. Doe. Please get some rest. I promise you’ll need it.” His voice became distant as the edges of your vision became fuzzy, and you could feel yourself slipping into helpless unconsciousness…
Pick Your Poison is a choose your own adventure/choose your own whump story where you character is/will be a whumpee.
Some general CWs for this series: Gaslighting, horror tropes, whumpee POV, lab/experimentaion whump.
Though I will add more as needed. Most individual chapters don't have warnings aside from tags as of right now.
*note- Due to a url change, and the inability to edit posts with polls all the links up until chapter 11 are broken. Chapter 11 and onward will link back here to the masterlist.
Perhaps it would be beneficial to stop and get some sleep. Taking a deep breath you nod, much to Berkley’s visible relief. “Ok. Thank you. But before I do, is there somewhere I can make a phone call?” You reach for the phone on the table, waiting for his response.
“Oh, I suppose I can step outside until you’re done. Then you can come get me and I’ll take you to your room.” He gives a slight smile before starting towards the door. However, he quickly pauses to add some clarification. “This place is very big and very old, it’s really easy to get lost. I wouldn’t recommend wandering off without me.” His tone was much more serious than it had been previously. You felt an odd chill run down your spine at the warning, glad you chose to stay in the library before.
Once Berkley left the room, you fully picked up the phone and dialed your parent’s number. Hopefully they would pick up despite the random number combined with the ungodly hour of night.
Ring.
Ring…
Ring…
Rin- “Hello?”
You felt a wave of relief wash over you as the groggy and confused, but unmistakable voice greeted you over the phone. You managed to keep your voice calm, “Hey. Sorry to wake you up but, I kinda have a situation”.
“Oh! It’s you. I didn’t recognize the number. What’s going on?” Concern flooded into their voice and you could hear them shifting in bed. A slight wave of guilt tugged at you for waking them up.
“Well… I went for a walk, right? And I don’t know how, but I must’ve gotten turned around somewhere. Because I have no idea where I am, and weird things keep happening.”
“What?” That concern turned to panic, and you heard the rustling as they started to get up.
“I’m ok for right now though!” quickly you tried to calm them down at least somewhat, “I ran into someone and he’s letting me stay with him. So I’m not just wandering outside all on my own. It’s this huge building in the middle of the woods. Which… sounds bad… I know. But he told me there were hunters and things in the woods, so it could be worse I guess. He told me his name is Berkley Johnson.” you tried to laugh it off. Pretend like you weren’t terrified.
“Oh honey, I’m so sorry. Just hang tight. Do you need me to come get you? Though, you said you had no idea where you were, so I don’t know how I would be able to-” they were rambling but you weren’t listening.
Honey.
You’ve never been called honey by them before. Never.
“Hey um… Humor me?” You couldn’t hide the tremble in your voice.
“Oh? I- sure? What do you need?” the voice on the phone spoke.
“What’s my name?” Your tone is as firm as you can muster.
“Your name?” confusion in its voice.
“Yes. My name, what is it?” a growing pit of dread settling in your gut. You hoped you were wrong. Hoped you were just being Paranoid.
“Why are you asking such a silly question? I don’t understand what that has to do with anything…”
“My. Name.” Rage started to seem into your terror. Making for a volatile concoction of emotions. “Tell. Me. My Name.”
“Look- I know you’re scared, but you sound paranoid-”
You didn’t even bother hearing the rest of the voice before you hung up. You chucked the phone away.That wasn’t your parent, no matter how convincing it sounded.
What do you do?
Pretend like nothing happened. Don't let on you're suspicious.
Confront Berkley, you're done playing around. You want answers.
Open the door, push past Berkley, and make a break for the door.
Let Berkley take you too your room, but try to slip away after.
