Fragmented Cortex

The padded walls were the color of a bruised sky, swallowing the sound of her frantic breathing. Her jaw was locked open, forced into a permanent, silent scream by the steel that tasted like copper and cold indifference. She wasn't a person anymore, she was a frantic pulse, a collection of nerves being played by a master who knew exactly where to press to make her shatter.

She is suspended in a state of pure existence, stripped of identity and reduced to a biological rhythm. There is no hope, there is only the friction of the harness and the terrifying realization that in this silence, the mind begins to eat itself.

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