The hospital bed is ready… and so are the restraints. you’re already mine. and you’re not going anywhere.Struggle all you want, it won’t change a thing.
The sterile room reeked of antiseptic. Strapped to the cold table, you barely flinched as Dr. Ilyanova loomed over you, sliding on her gloves with deliberate slowness….
They’re watching you. Two figures. Fully covered. Silent. One adjusts something on the tray. The other nods. No words. They’ve done this before. You try to lift your hand—you can’t. The mask tightens slightly. Warm. Sweet. Final. “It’s workin
