48.

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“Take your medicine, Mr. Lyle,
" they demanded. “no please no not again not the medicine please no,” I plead to them with my mind, but they can’t hear me. I begin sobbing.

“It’s Okay, Mr. Lyle. The medicine will make you feel better”, they say in calm, false collected voices.

They start to raise the needle to my arm, and I begin thrashing violently against my restraints, but they only tighten more, making it harder and harder to draw in air. I try to scream, beg, plead. I pray to God for death. I promise the Devil I will do anything if he can get me out of this.

That’s when time seemed to stop.

“Anything, eh?” A voice deep and booming from out of nowhere, and yet everywhere at the same time. Coming in from the outside and
coming out from the inside.

“Yes, please. I’ll do anything to get out of this. Whatever it takes, no matter how sick or twisted or cruel just get me out of here.”

“You’re sure, Mr. Lyle?”

I don’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

The world before me disappeared in a white flash, but when I could see again, I was in the same room still. What the… I thought, and that’s when I looked down, and knew what I had to do.
I opened my mouth and spoke the words.

“Take your medicine, Mr. Lyle.”

-- true story --















Nope, just fucking with you hehe.

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