“Don’t be afraid of it,” he whispered. “It’s part of you.”
He smiled again, softer this time. “One day, you’ll understand.”
He stood and walked away, leaving the door open, the room breathing with the slow, fading rhythm of the man on the chair.
I remember stepping out after he left. The rope still smelled of sweat. The floorboards were sticky under my bare feet.
I touched the chair – the armrest, the cooling patch where the man’s hand had been – and felt something bloom inside me.
Not fear. Not disgust.
Recognition.
That’s when I started humming too.
At first it was the same tune.
Then the pitch changed – higher, sharper – until it wasn’t a lullaby anymore.
Somewhere far away, something mechanical hums with me.
The rhythm stutters. Grows louder.
Whirring.
The sound shifts – from memory to machinery.
From humming to blades.
I think I smell antiseptic.
Then the cold sting of metal against my throat.
I wake – choking on the hum – slick between my thighs and needy. But darkness swallows me before I can reach the light.
CASE FILE - BONES
Name: Beckett Graves
Age: 33
Height: 6’1
Weight: 84kg
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Distinguishing Features: Numerous tattoos (see file for photo catalogue), several piercings.
Alias: Bones
Date of Arrival: 17/07/2016
Sentence: Under review. Recommended for parole.
Treatment: Ongoing. Patient responds well to individual therapy sessions.
