A/N: Honestly, I'm gonna have to put a trigger warning here before you read it as some of the content may offend you. Weird experimental, graphic stuff ahead, but if you think it'll be fine, then go right ahead. But yeah, enjoy!
…
I'm considering to bite off your finger.
There you are, cheeky smile.
Humans. All the same. Poking at my face like I'm a stuffed doll on display. Compare a local to you, makes me wonder how long you'll last here.
Lucky. That's my name.
Glad you didn't ask.
I'm too old for this. I'm actually a dog, see? Lived in this city for all my life if that says anything.
You have a reason for being here though.
Maybe you're here to see the Doctor. You'd been walking till you saw me, but then stopped. Bent down to my level to see me. Everyone says the Doctor can perform miracles—because that's what people want. A miracle. Pathetic.
To find him, go round the street corner and head east. A long way to get there, but try not to get yourself killed along the way—
Wait. Changed my mind.
I'll take you there myself.
The way your eyes swirl around night sights bores me. Like you've never seen rusty back alley balconies, piss-stained garbage crates, or eyes of living carcasses staring back as we pass by. A boy with bandages over his bald head walks in front of us. In his hand, a string tied to the neck of a smaller boy laying on a skateboard. Wheels drag across the pavement, the boy dead.
"Can you wake him up?" he says. "Couldn't carry him in my arms, but he's been asleep for a while."
Doesn't reek of alcohol, but the smell of piss and rot already does wonders. Your face turns green, so I start talking. "Pretty sure your friend are dead, mate."
Eyes widen. Yours, not mine.
"My brother, he's asleep," he continues. "I went to the Doctor to get him to wake them up, but he told me no. Said I should try making friends to other people, but I like talking to them. He's my only friend. No one else would talk to me."
The Doctor's no god. Don't need to be human to know that.
"How long haa he been asleep for?"
Pause. "Two months."
You're staring at me again. Didn't expect me to talk?
Surprised you didn't decide to speak yourself.
The Doctor put a microchip in my tongue a long time ago. Lets me speak in human speech. You're still staring though. Dumbfounded. Don't blame ya. Or is it the Pikmin bugging you? Best leave the man be, I figured. A lost cause.
Out of the alley and into the streets, barks and growls welcome us. I want to sing. Join them. Become nothing more than a feral animal like my predecessors before me. You wouldn't understand.
This city feeds on the weak.
Apartment door bursts open to our right, and a woman's tossed out like trash. Blonde hair's in shambles, mascara running deep down her cheeks. Hear her pleas as she scrambles to her feet. Rushes up the stairs. Door slams shut in her face.
I knew her when she was younger.
Used to be a plump, human girl.
Cuddled me in thick, warm arms. Played with me.
Pampered me like a doll.
Now look at her. Half the size she used to be wrapped in a tight, glittery blouse. Short skirt, and dark leggings to show off her thin curves. And eyes so blue, one can't help but fall into a trance. Painted nails dig into the door as she yelps pleas like a desperate canine. I still remember the old her. Fat, cuddly human girl.
I continue crawling forward, but don't hear you following me. Turn back, and there you are, eyes tranced to the woman at the door. She screams. Stomps down the stairs while wobbling on her heels. Don't know what to think when I see your reaction though.
Eyes wide as you step back and watch her glance your way—her makeup-caked face studying your clean clothes while hers reek of semen. How thin her limbs. A walking skeleton covered in glitter. It's a wonder how her body fits in her outfit. Does she recognise me, I wonder? Doesn't even look my way. Only yours as she searches for someone who doesn't see her the way you do me—like an animal.
Imagine if you ended up like that.
"Hey, peachy. What's a beauty like yourself doing out by yourself?"
A man emerges out of the alley beside the apartment. You lift me up and hide in the shadows on the other side of the street. The man grabs her wrist. Drags her across the floor as she struggles to rip herself free.
Many used to mock her, or disregard her existence altogether, so she asked the Doctor to do this to her. Trim her fat off till she matched the size of a "fashion model". Fascinated me to watch the Doctor cut her open, digging her insides out. The blood that pooled, the tears that fell. Now she screams in the alley as she's ♥♥♥♥ for nothing.
'Tis the price of human beauty, he told me.
At least others acknowledge her now.
You never once tell me your name. There you are walking close beside me, knowing I speak, yet you follow as if prisoner-chained. Surprised you didn't called me cute either, though I'd rip off your tongue if you did. Glance in your direction. See your hand rubbing your arm, lip bitten. Wonder why you want to see the Doctor.
Easy for me to pick out foreigners like you. Only one with dirt-free clothes and clean skin. Living corpses emerge from behind tinted windows, peeking out as they watch you move.
Head shoots up. Spot shadows flickering in the left alleyway. Hear moaning. Whispers. A girl and boy.
"Haah, haah, t-there— ahh…"
You can't help yourself it seems, brushing past me to peek. Scramble behind you. Then you stop, leaving me to crash into your leg.
Stumble behind a garbage crate. Scene plays in front of us. Finally see why you stopped.
A boy in blue has a girl in pink crushed between him and the brick wall. Moaning in each others' mouths. Quick glimpse, the girl looks exactly like the boy.
Siblings.
Twins, no less.
But look closer, and both are missing an arm.
I know them too. Saw them in the Doctor's office two weeks ago. They'd been attached together as one body; two arms, four legs, two heads. I can only imagine how other humans see them as.
Monster of their own rite.
Awkward wobbling for walking.
Begging the Doctor for their separation.
He sat them on his table. Strange sight, but I considered them the lucky ones. They sighed as one. Sad smiles as they removed their clothes. Found myself scrutinising the bruises on their bare skin, each one the size of a wooden bat.
But they glanced at one another, neither flinching nor drifting away.
No one's acknowledged me like that before.
Then the Doctor's blade's held up, soon slicing the two out. Listened to their cries. Watched them bleed together. Saw them separate into two as they moaned in their own pool of blood.
Now they make love, and you're entranced. No, more of fixated to what shouldn't be. See them now, both missing an arm. Girl with only a right hand. Boy with his left.
Their eyes flicker in our direction, and you stumble back into me.
Is this not the first time you've been caught peeping?
The moment you trip over my stomach, you glance at me as if remembering I was there for the first time. Piece of paper slips out of your pocket. Pick it up. Read aloud to myself.
An address. Doctor's, to be exact.
Glance up at you. Smile.
So you are here to see the Doctor.
Enter in a hallway of frames, footsteps dull to the growing sound of drills in the path ahead. Left and right, people move within the pictures.
To our left, a young boy with a flat face. You stare at him—or rather, the drink in his hand. Notice the scratches on his cheeks. The crusty knife on the floor. The blood crusted down the sides of his face.
His ears used to be pointed, you know.
He only did this today.
Must've hurt to slice off tips of your ears, the sharp burning sting lingering, left screaming so loud you could puke.
The boy's hands tremble as he holds the vial up to his lips. And you just watch. Letting green liquid slip down his throat.
Did you know he comes here everyday?
The drink's only temporary.
But you just watch.
Swallow. Sweat.
His skin begins to bubble and burn.
You don't continue walking forward like you're supposed to. Instead, remain in place watching from a distance. Documenting the boy's face to from flat to round, hearing skin sizzle as if on a grill. Shrieks screech my ears, but still, you stay.
How is it you manage to watch without trying to draw away? Once heard an expression about people like you. Cursed with curiosity. I think I know why you're here.
You saw something you weren't supposed to.
So what are you?
Perv.
Masochist.
Or just curious?
Sound of glass smashes. Attention snaps back to the front. Spot dark silhouette moving through a room. Turn back to the boy, and you gasp. Eyes widen.
He's looking at you through a mirror on the wall.
His face no longer flat, but round.
Normal.
You shuffle back before walking farther down the corridor, breathing heavier, heading far away from the boy's room. Glance behind you. I chuckle. So you scrunch your eyebrows at me. For someone so observant, no wonder you're always caught in your peeping. But you're too late. Body crashes into another figure in front of you.
The Doctor. "Why hello." Wears a white coat covered in blood. His moustache only sweetens his smile. But I've seen him do more than enough for me to think otherwise. "You made an appointment to wipe out your memory, correct?"
You nod, then glance back at me. Memory's a funny thing, you know. Can see why you wouldn't want yours. You're my opposite. Funny.
Doctor points to the room behind him. "Head in there for me, and we'll begin shortly."
Then you disappear behind the door, closing it shut. Doctor walks up to me, bends down, then speaks. "You picked a decent one here, Lucky. Once I'm done, will your operation be next?"
"Yes. My brain, that human's body."
"We'll make the switch shortly."
Follow the Doctor into your room, and you stare. Eyes flickering between him and me. Smile. I consider you as a lucky one. Unfortunate you don't see otherwise.
Doctor snaps on his gloves. You swallow. I grin.
"Ready to begin?" he says.
But you've already closed your eyes as you nod.
You're the closest thing to normal.
And I don't have a lot of years left.
Doubt you'd understand who I am.
You're only human, after all.
