New Home

As always I begin to remember. The pain searing through my body as the needles pluck on my nerves in my head, arms and legs. Black oozing puss dripping from my wounds, as I cry in a deep terrified voice from my chest. My screaming torment, echoing within the capsule, shifts and morphs into a sound to praise the new reality.

I only remember these things, after I have placed a new soul to be tormented to sustain the cycle. So that we may never perish.

I have no regrets. No sympathy. Because I could be in that chair instead.