What you saw was—

Blood....

All you could hear was static and all you could see was red.

A deep and rich crimson. It reflected the dim candle light and the red just kept on getting bigger and bigger.

Something was leaking... someone was leaking.

Crimson is supposed to stay inside.

You have to put it back.... you have to...

Put...

it...

back...

Before you knew it, you were towering over the metal operating table in the middle of the room. You were in a trance. You stepped into the the dimly lit room, not caring the the extremely heavy door had closed behind you. The only thing that was on your mind was putting whoever this was back together again.

Organs.

This person was still alive. You could tell by the movement of their heart...which you could see. You almost wanted to touch it, so you slowly moved your hand towards it... just to give it a little poke, but once your hand got close enough, the person jerked upwards, making you retract your hand back to your side. An disgusting sloshing sound rung in your ears. It broke through the static, but only for a millisecond.

The pile of red was John.

A single eye stares into yours, for his other eye was missing. The weird thing about his eye was that it was red.

"Hel..... hel..." John pauses. "Hel...p." He winces when he made the 'P' sound.

John lips were horribly damaged. He had ripped the flesh on his lips long ago. His fingers that lacked fingernails, clawed against the table. His eye was wide, and tears were streaming down his unnaturally pale face.

"So...... hun......gry...." John says in the smallest voice.

You circled John, observing him. You didn't hear what he said. You were only focused on two things...

How exactly is he still alive?

Could you put him back together?

His organs weren't covered, some were hanging outside of him. Maybe.... maybe you should just go ahead and push them back in.

How could you fix him?

"We need to get to a hospital." You whisper.

You take a step towards John and he...

John growls at you.

The look in his eyes is the look of a rabid dog. He was going insane. Your heart speeds up as you flinch, taking a few steps back.

"John..." You gasp.

You were shocked. John was a bad person, but he wasn't an animal. He never acted like that before, not even when he tried to persuade you into giving up your life for his family's. It was strange.

Your heart starts to go back to its steady pace.

"No! No... come closer! I'm not going to hurt you.., I just want a bite." John begs.

He was ignored the fact that his mouth was ripped, he ignored the pain, because he was just so hungry. The pain was nothing compared to his hunger. He needed you to come closer.

You shake you head.

"No... you need help." You say trying to stay calm.

Keeping your composure was something that was easy for you to do, but not now. You weren't really a fan of change and John has definitely changed. It felt so sudden... and just to know that this man now was capable of killing you made uncomfortable. Everyone has the potential to kill, but you had to have the mind in order to succeed. John was one of those people who weren't born with the mind, but now he has it and his urge to kill was stronger than ever.

"Come here!" John begins to struggle, is organs moving around with his movements. "Come here you bitch! Please... I'm so hungry! You enjoy torturing people don't you!?!"

John had asked you that a long time ago.... a time when you used to call him Mr. Elliot. It was a time where you could say you respected him a little more than you did now.

"Please...." John stops moving and the he begins to sob loudly. His emotions were everywhere.

You couldn't call him pathetic this time. He had a very good reason to cry. His body could no longer be called a body because he was in pieces, he's trapped somewhere away from his family that he tried so hard to protect, and now he's a monster. He turn into something he's always been afraid of. The only thing that could probably make things worse for him is death, but then again, he might be relieved if he were to die.

"John..." You murmur. "Let me help you."

"I'm sorry.... I'm sorry...please come back." John said, his voice slightly higher in pitch. There was snot coming out of his nose as he sobbed. "Please (y/n).... it hurts."

"Don't bite me John." You say, stepping towards him. "I'm going to try to help you."

"But it hurts! It hurts so bad! Just a taste to make me feel better??"

"No—"

"PLEASE! I'll do anything thing! Don't be such a bitch (y/n)!" He hisses. "Please... don't want to end up like your mother... I don—"

You kick the operating table over. John screams as the table tips onto it's side. John was still strapped onto the table, but his organs had nothing holding them in.

His organs fell out.

His sobbing became louder.

"Shut up. You've done nothing for me. Bringing you to a hospital would be the right thing to do, but...I've never been a good person. Especially not to those who have done nothing bust stress out the only person I loved. Not to mention that you wanted me to give up my life because you wanted to keep your family. Well you know what John?" You walk over to the other side of the fallen table, looking at the disgusting display.

John was looking at you with the same blank stare as the one you were giving him. The people that could mimic a stare like yours was your biological father... and dead people.

"I have a right to be selfish too."

Thinking back on it, you decide to give up your life anyway. You were lucky that the person you were giving your life to was someone who cared about you, but in all honesty, you did it with the purpose of saving a mother and dying afterwards.

You wanted to die at the time and that changed all because of Cain.

He made you happy.

"Looks like he's going feral." A smooth and silky whispers in your ear.

You quickly turn around to see a figure, about the same height as Cain, standing right behind you. His hair was black and his eyes were as red as rubies. The man and Cain would have looked exactly alike if it weren't for Cain's white hair.

"Are you telling me that he's not?" You ask, looking back at John who was now whimpering quietly.

"If he was fully feral, he wouldn't even be able to cry."

You two stood there for a while in the dim room that smelled of blood and waste.

"What's your name?" You ask.

"Is that what you want to know after all you are seeing?" The man laughs. "My name is Ebben."

"My name is (y/n)."

You two stood in awkward silence once again. Ebben was about to speak, but you beat him to it.

"Is he dead?" You ask.

"Not quite. Almost."

John hiccups. Ebben was right, he was still alive.

"What happened?" You ask. "What happened to John?"

Ebben smiles sadly, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you out of the basement.

"Let's chat about this somewhere else."