Bright lights glared in my eyes, and there was a constant soft hum of the whirring machines around me. I tried to shift out of my uncomfortable position, but the binds all over my body were too tight. How long had I been strapped to the cold table? An hour? Ten hours? A day? Every time I was in the Operation Room, it was as if I was in a time warp, unable to determine how much or how little time had passed. I was trapped in a horrible nightmare, unable to escape the never-ending torment I was faced with each day.Oh, how I wished it was just a nightmare.For a long time, the lights were the only thing I knew, and the machines were the only thing to pierce the cold silence. I strained to tilt my head up to survey my surroundings. Out of the corner of my eye, a tiny Asian woman with thin-framed glasses was standing at a table full of macabre instruments. I knew them by heart, and had experience with many of them. My least favorite was a mix of a scimitar and a saw. It had a curved, serrated blade with a long, blood-stained handle.

Dr. Euterpe’s back was to me and the soft ping of glass against fingernail met my ears. She turned and click-clacked towards me with her pointy heels, placing a gloved hand on my shoulder. “Eliana, you’ll be okay,” she said in a pseudo sweet tone. “This is your last injection for the day. You can go back to your room when I’m finished.”

Prison cell was more like it.

The woman pierced my skin with the syringe gun in her hand and I winced. In my peripheral vision the green liquid seeped into my arm, making tingles spread throughout my whole body. Once the syringe was emptied, she pulled it out of my skin and put it back where it belonged. Snapping off her gloves, she switched off the light hanging over my head. I blinked as bright circles entered my vision.

“Well, we’re all finished here for today, Eliana!” the woman bubbled. I groaned at her enthusiasm and she glared at me. “I’ll have Bruce and Octavious bring you back to your room.”

The woman pressed a red button on the wall and sauntered to the sink to cleanse her hands, humming as she did so. A few minutes later, two armed, muscular men strode into the room, hands on their guns. One of the men, Bruce, had a huge scar running down his face, making him much more intimidating than Octavious.

“You called, Dr. Euterpe?” Octavious asked in a gruff voice.

“Would you please escort Eliana back to her room?” the woman asked the men without turning away from the sink. They grunted in response and came to the table I was lying on.

“What nice weather we’re having, huh?” I asked. “Well I wouldn’t know, of course. I’m always locked away in my musty little cell.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at them. They never struck me as smart people. And I was pretty sure they weren’t. They were mindless idiots, always lumbering around like robots and taking orders from people. Only an imbecile would want to work for Paragon Corporations.

Bright lights glared in my eyes, and there was a constant soft hum of from the whirring machines around me. I tried to shift out of my uncomfortable position, < What about the position is uncomfortable? More details here would be nice. but the binds all over my body were too tight. How long had I been strapped to the cold table? An hour? Ten hours? A day? Every time I was in the Operation Room, it was as if I was in a time warp, unable to determine how much or how little time had passed < This is implied by “time warp” and her questioning of how long she’d been there.. I was trapped in a horrible nightmare, < I’d prefer if you could show what is horrible about it. unable to escape the never-ending torment I was faced with each day. < If she knows she is there each day, then it seems like she has a better grasp on how long she’s there than the previous sentences imply.

Oh, how I wished it was just a nightmare.

For a long time, the lights were the only thing I knew, and the machines were the only thing to pierce the cold silence. I strained to tilt my head up to survey my surroundings. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see < Add this or cut “out of the corner of my eye.” Otherwise the wording seems strange. a tiny Asian woman with thin-framed glasses was standing at a table full of macabre <“Macabre” doesn’t seem like the right word to me (it means pertaining to death), but others might disagree. instruments. I knew them by heart, and had experience with many of them. < I don’t think you need this because it’s telling what is already apparent based on the next two sentences. My least favorite was a mix of a scimitar and a saw. It had a curved, serrated blade with a long, blood-stained handle.

Dr. Euterpe’s < Is this the Asian woman or someone else? If she knows the Asian woman’s name, it would probably be clearer for her to use it straight away. back was to me and the soft ping of glass against fingernail met my ears. < What makes this sound? She turned and click-clacked towards me with her pointy heels, placing a gloved hand on my shoulder. “Eliana, you’ll be okay,”  < I think Eliana needs to indicate in some way that she’s not okay. Otherwise, it’s not clear what Dr. Euterpe is responding to. she said in a pseudo sweet tone. “This is your last injection for the day. You can go back to your room when I’m finished.”

Prison cell was more like it.

The woman pierced my skin with the syringe gun in her hand and I winced. In my peripheral vision the green liquid seeped into my arm, making tingles spread throughout my whole body. Once the syringe was emptied, she pulled it out of my skin and put it back where it belonged. Snapping off her gloves, she switched off the light hanging over my head. I blinked as bright circles entered my vision. < “Entered” seems a tad too formal. Perhaps something like “flashed across my vision” would work better? 

“Well, we’re all finished here for today, Eliana!” the woman bubbled. < I didn’t realize the doctor was supposed to be enthusiastic. I’m not exactly sure if she’s faking and is actually malicious or if Eliana just finds her genuine enthusiasm frustrating given the circumstances. I groaned at her enthusiasm and she glared at me. “I’ll have Bruce and Octavious bring you back to your room.”

The woman pressed a red button on the wall and sauntered to the sink to cleanse < “Cleanse” seems a tad too formal. Perhaps “clean” or “wash”? her hands, humming as she did so. A few minutes later, two armed, muscular men strode into the room, hands on their guns. One of the men, Bruce, had a huge scar running down his face, making him much more intimidating than Octavious.

“You called, Dr. Euterpe?” Octavious asked in a gruff voice.

“Would you please escort Eliana back to her room?” the woman asked the men without turning away from the sink. They grunted in response and came to the table I was lying on.

“What nice weather we’re having, huh?” I asked. “Well I wouldn’t know, of course. I’m always locked away in my musty little cell.” < I’m not sure if she’s saying this as a joke or if she’s serious.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at them. They never struck me as smart people. And I was pretty sure they weren’t. They were mindless idiots, always lumbering around like robots and taking orders from people. Only an imbecile would want to work for Paragon Corporations.