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Description

Dr. Tariq Faheem watched dispassionately as nurses and technicians swarmed his terrified patient. She was mummified in an ultra-tight rubber restraint suit, offering her no freedom of movement, save for her exposed bare feet. She could wiggle her toes, but little more. Six heavy-duty straps connected to her suit and suspended her vertically in the middle of her small, featureless cell. A large standard issue ball gag had been lodged in her mouth, silencing her frantic pleas for mercy.

Mostly silencing them, anyway.

“Pmmnphm, N'm phnrrm, N'm phnrrm, N nnn'ph mmnnph phn gn nnphn nphnmnphnnn ngnnn, N'mm hm gnnn, N'mm hmhnfm, N prnmnphm, N PRNMNPHM, PMMNPHM!” patient 0855 burbled as tears leaked down her cheeks. She was ignored by all; no-one had the time or the empathy to try and understand what she was attempting to say. They’d heard it all before anyway. The technicians were far more concerned with ensuring that the life support mechanisms feeding into her suit were working properly.

She was going to be locked away for a very, very long time…

The final stage of her long-term encapsulation had begun. With practiced ease the nurses held the girl’s head still while a stony-faced technician pulled the gag from her mouth, offering patient 0855 a few seconds of unrestricted speech.

“Please, PLEASE, I’m sorry, I don’t want to - No, no wait, please, I’m SORRY, I’M-MPPPHH-”

A thick rubber hood was forced down over her head, an invasive feeding tube shunted into her mouth and throat to quickly shut her up again. 0855 gagged and choked on the hard plastic tube, her eyes watering as it was pushed down her throat. The two prongs of a nasal cannula were plugged into her nostrils, a stream of oxygen flowing directly into her lungs. 0855 whimpered in terror. She had been robbed of her freedom and her movement; now she’d even lost control of when she ate, drank and breathed.

Headphones were being secured around her ears. As they went on the sounds of the bustling technicians faded to a barely perceptible murmur. Now she didn’t even have a choice of what she heard. With just her vision left to control the technicians fitted a pair of customized VR goggles over 0855’s eyes, the thick rubber and foam lining preventing any light from penetrating. With that final addition 0855’s senses were completely at the mercy of the Maelstrom Rubber Asylum. 0855 whimpered and trembled in her bondage, terrified of what horrible sights and sounds she was about to be subjected to. She had no way of knowing that her experience was going to be far, far worse than what her imagination could conjure up.

The cell had been vacated, save for Dr. Faheem, who proceeded to pick up a small microphone, allowing him to speak directly into 0855’s ears through her heaphphones.

“Patient 0855. Curl your toes if you can hear me.”

Dr. Faheem looked down, watching as the girl’s toes curled up against the balls of her feet.

“Good. I will be overseeing your participation in this experiment. For the next two years you will be taking part in research designed to -”

He got no further; at the mention of ‘two years’ 0855 launched into a frenzy, struggling wildly in her bondage as she screamed out in horror at the prospect of spending the next two years at the mercy of the Asylum’s sadistic research team. Dr. Faheem sighed as the wretched girl jiggled about uselessly in her restraints. He walked over to a panel and adjusted a dial, her life support system delivering a small dose of short-acting muscle relaxants. A moment later 0855 sagged in her bondage, conscious but with no control over her muscles. All she could do now was listen.

“Now that you’ve calmed down 0855 I can continue. As I said, for the next two years you will be participating in Project Pasithea. We are going to determine what two years of non-stop virtual reality simulations do to your psychology. As part of this you will be continually dosed with a powerful hallucinogenic drug that distorts your brain’s ability to distinguish what is real and what is not. As a result, to you these simulations are going to seem as tangible and real as reality itself. You’re effectively going to spend the next two years living in an inescapable series of horror movies. Most of our researchers agree that the psychological damage will be irreversible.”

With that bombshell dropped Dr. Faheem went back to the control panel, scrolling through a list of programs. He clicked on one to load.

“This simulation, for example, will have you experience being the victim of a sociopathic chainsaw torturer for a few weeks. If you’re wondering what that involves you’ll find out in a few minutes. Once it loads the simulations will play out one after the other, so this will be the last time you hear a real person’s voice for the next couple of years. See you on the other side, 0855. Or at least, what’s left of your broken mind…”

And with that Dr. Faheem exited the cell, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him. The program would run automatically, with technicians keeping remote track of 0855’s vital signs. There would be no chance of 0855 ever coming to physical harm…

Within her dark cell 0855 whimpered fearfully, her heart rate and breathing elevated as she stared up helplessly at the dark screen in front of her eyes. She could almost feel the drugs pump into her body, working their way into her brain to twist her perceptions of reality. A moment later searing red text flashed up on the screen:

SIMULATION COMMENCING

0855’s eardrums were suddenly pierced by the deafening sounds of revving chainsaws and high-pitched screams of terror. Were they her screams? 0855 whimpered feverishly, her heart rate skyrocketing as disturbing imagery began to flash up on the screen in front of her. Was that her in those images? Where was she? She was being chased! She was running through a forest, trying to escape a masked man with a chainsaw! 0855’s breathing spiked as she sprinted, looking behind her in wild-eyed terror. He was gaining on her! She had to go faster! Desperately, 0855 raced as fast as she could, her lungs burning with the effort. She tripped and stumbled, her foot catching on a tree root, causing her to collapse onto the forest floor. The demented man loomed over her, his rusty chainsaw sputtering and whirring inches from her face.

“Which limb first, girlie?!” he cackled.

As the chainsaw descended upon her 0855 screamed out in abject terror.

From the control room the technician team cheered as patient 0855 let out an ear-piercing shriek through her tube gag. Her heart and breathing rate were through the roof. She had already lost her grip on reality after just eighteen minutes, and the simulation wasn’t even running at full capacity. Dr. Faheem watched in silent satisfaction as 0855 screamed and flailed about in her mummification suit, her drug-addled brain clearly overwhelmed by the tortuous sounds and visions assaulting her senses.

It was going to be a very long two years for patient 0855…

---
Another snapshot of life in the Maelstrom Rubber Asylum's research department, featuring more beautiful artwork by the amazing Sleepystephbot . You can check out the original version, without text, here on their page:

Mature Content

Credits:

Original image: Sleepystephbot

Image text and story: Myself

Description

Dr. Tariq Faheem watched dispassionately as nurses and technicians swarmed his terrified patient. She was mummified in an ultra-tight rubber restraint suit, offering her no freedom of movement, save for her exposed bare feet. She could wiggle her toes, but little more. Six heavy-duty straps connected to her suit and suspended her vertically in the middle of her small, featureless cell. A large standard issue ball gag had been lodged in her mouth, silencing her frantic pleas for mercy.

Mostly silencing them, anyway.

“Pmmnphm, N'm phnrrm, N'm phnrrm, N nnn'ph mmnnph phn gn nnphn nphnmnphnnn ngnnn, N'mm hm gnnn, N'mm hmhnfm, N prnmnphm, N PRNMNPHM, PMMNPHM!” patient 0855 burbled as tears leaked down her cheeks. She was ignored by all; no-one had the time or the empathy to try and understand what she was attempting to say. They’d heard it all before anyway. The technicians were far more concerned with ensuring that the life support mechanisms feeding into her suit were working properly.

She was going to be locked away for a very, very long time…

The final stage of her long-term encapsulation had begun. With practiced ease the nurses held the girl’s head still while a stony-faced technician pulled the gag from her mouth, offering patient 0855 a few seconds of unrestricted speech.

“Please, PLEASE, I’m sorry, I don’t want to - No, no wait, please, I’m SORRY, I’M-MPPPHH-”

A thick rubber hood was forced down over her head, an invasive feeding tube shunted into her mouth and throat to quickly shut her up again. 0855 gagged and choked on the hard plastic tube, her eyes watering as it was pushed down her throat. The two prongs of a nasal cannula were plugged into her nostrils, a stream of oxygen flowing directly into her lungs. 0855 whimpered in terror. She had been robbed of her freedom and her movement; now she’d even lost control of when she ate, drank and breathed.

Headphones were being secured around her ears. As they went on the sounds of the bustling technicians faded to a barely perceptible murmur. Now she didn’t even have a choice of what she heard. With just her vision left to control the technicians fitted a pair of customized VR goggles over 0855’s eyes, the thick rubber and foam lining preventing any light from penetrating. With that final addition 0855’s senses were completely at the mercy of the Maelstrom Rubber Asylum. 0855 whimpered and trembled in her bondage, terrified of what horrible sights and sounds she was about to be subjected to. She had no way of knowing that her experience was going to be far, far worse than what her imagination could conjure up.

The cell had been vacated, save for Dr. Faheem, who proceeded to pick up a small microphone, allowing him to speak directly into 0855’s ears through her heaphphones.

“Patient 0855. Curl your toes if you can hear me.”

Dr. Faheem looked down, watching as the girl’s toes curled up against the balls of her feet.

“Good. I will be overseeing your participation in this experiment. For the next two years you will be taking part in research designed to -”

He got no further; at the mention of ‘two years’ 0855 launched into a frenzy, struggling wildly in her bondage as she screamed out in horror at the prospect of spending the next two years at the mercy of the Asylum’s sadistic research team. Dr. Faheem sighed as the wretched girl jiggled about uselessly in her restraints. He walked over to a panel and adjusted a dial, her life support system delivering a small dose of short-acting muscle relaxants. A moment later 0855 sagged in her bondage, conscious but with no control over her muscles. All she could do now was listen.

“Now that you’ve calmed down 0855 I can continue. As I said, for the next two years you will be participating in Project Pasithea. We are going to determine what two years of non-stop virtual reality simulations do to your psychology. As part of this you will be continually dosed with a powerful hallucinogenic drug that distorts your brain’s ability to distinguish what is real and what is not. As a result, to you these simulations are going to seem as tangible and real as reality itself. You’re effectively going to spend the next two years living in an inescapable series of horror movies. Most of our researchers agree that the psychological damage will be irreversible.”

With that bombshell dropped Dr. Faheem went back to the control panel, scrolling through a list of programs. He clicked on one to load.

“This simulation, for example, will have you experience being the victim of a sociopathic chainsaw torturer for a few weeks. If you’re wondering what that involves you’ll find out in a few minutes. Once it loads the simulations will play out one after the other, so this will be the last time you hear a real person’s voice for the next couple of years. See you on the other side, 0855. Or at least, what’s left of your broken mind…”

And with that Dr. Faheem exited the cell, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him. The program would run automatically, with technicians keeping remote track of 0855’s vital signs. There would be no chance of 0855 ever coming to physical harm…

Within her dark cell 0855 whimpered fearfully, her heart rate and breathing elevated as she stared up helplessly at the dark screen in front of her eyes. She could almost feel the drugs pump into her body, working their way into her brain to twist her perceptions of reality. A moment later searing red text flashed up on the screen:

SIMULATION COMMENCING

0855’s eardrums were suddenly pierced by the deafening sounds of revving chainsaws and high-pitched screams of terror. Were they her screams? 0855 whimpered feverishly, her heart rate skyrocketing as disturbing imagery began to flash up on the screen in front of her. Was that her in those images? Where was she? She was being chased! She was running through a forest, trying to escape a masked man with a chainsaw! 0855’s breathing spiked as she sprinted, looking behind her in wild-eyed terror. He was gaining on her! She had to go faster! Desperately, 0855 raced as fast as she could, her lungs burning with the effort. She tripped and stumbled, her foot catching on a tree root, causing her to collapse onto the forest floor. The demented man loomed over her, his rusty chainsaw sputtering and whirring inches from her face.

“Which limb first, girlie?!” he cackled.

As the chainsaw descended upon her 0855 screamed out in abject terror.

From the control room the technician team cheered as patient 0855 let out an ear-piercing shriek through her tube gag. Her heart and breathing rate were through the roof. She had already lost her grip on reality after just eighteen minutes, and the simulation wasn’t even running at full capacity. Dr. Faheem watched in silent satisfaction as 0855 screamed and flailed about in her mummification suit, her drug-addled brain clearly overwhelmed by the tortuous sounds and visions assaulting her senses.

It was going to be a very long two years for patient 0855…

---
Another snapshot of life in the Maelstrom Rubber Asylum's research department, featuring more beautiful artwork by the amazing Sleepystephbot . You can check out the original version, without text, here on their page:

Mature Content

Credits:

Original image: Sleepystephbot

Image text and story: Myself