2nd Trial of Ymiden, 715th Arc
The low moans that escaped the subject's lips were the first sign that Virikai received that the woman strapped to the table was awake. Completely naked, save the thin cotton cloth that covered her legs and lower torso, blood and scars marred a body that he imagined was once completely unblemished. Even her pert breasts had sagged after so many surgical examinations of the organs in her chest.
As the girl weakly began to squirm against Virikai's hands and her bonds, pure white orbs flickered away from his current task and up to the subject's face. It was contorted in pain, but the human's eyes had not yet opened; she had not fully returned to consciousness. The young eídisi's eyes lingered on the girl's features for a moment more before returning his attention to his task.
Removing sutures was hardly a difficult task - the biggest challenge was growing used to how different surgeons stitched the subjects back up: some preferred to do each stitch separately, others were lazy and used a form of running stitch, as if sewing together a quilt. Running stitches were easier to remove, in theory, because all he had to do to remove them was make a single cut in the thread and then pull. However the trouble came when the flesh and skin healed poorly and it bunched around the stitches. If he pulled that, he would be in danger of ripping the incision wound open again.
Today, however, Virikai was working on one of Fahe's subjects, and he, as the Head Researcher, was known for his impossibly precise stitching of sutures. The incision site in question was across the girl's torso. Thinking back to his readings on the human anatomy, he decided that he must be working directly above the diaphragm. Experienced hands handled the knife, as he cut through another stitch and slowly pulled the excess thread through and free.
Another moan, one that the Talius Scion ignored this time, as he placed the bloodied thread next to the others before picking at the next one with the blunted edge of a hook, looping it round and pulling it away from the healed skin before slipping a scalpel into the gap and easily slicing through the thread. With expert movements, he swivelled the hook in his fingers until the hook was resting in his palm other end was visible, where set of tweezers were clearly attached. Wasting no time, he gripped the loose end of the newly sliced stitch and, using the blunt edge of the scalpel and his index finger to keep the subject’s skin taut, he pulled the former stitch away from the healing skin, tugging lightly when it resisted his pull.
“What… what are you doing?” The voice was faint, but Virikai could still detect what he had only recently come to understand as a hysterical tone, bordering on desperation. Next would be the weak - but still noticeably frantic - tugging of the bonds which held the subject down to the gurney. When Virikai didn’t deign to reply, or even look over to her as he had swapped the tweezers around for the hook once again, the woman tried again, “Please… let me go. Stop, please, stop.”
At that, the young researcher did turn his gaze away from the intricately placed sutures to meet the girl’s eyes, “If I stop, it is very likely that the wound will become infected.” His words were enough, it seemed, for the human did not start struggling. His gaze lingered on the subject’s face for a few moments longer before, satisfied, he returned to his work.
As the girl weakly began to squirm against Virikai's hands and her bonds, pure white orbs flickered away from his current task and up to the subject's face. It was contorted in pain, but the human's eyes had not yet opened; she had not fully returned to consciousness. The young eídisi's eyes lingered on the girl's features for a moment more before returning his attention to his task.
Removing sutures was hardly a difficult task - the biggest challenge was growing used to how different surgeons stitched the subjects back up: some preferred to do each stitch separately, others were lazy and used a form of running stitch, as if sewing together a quilt. Running stitches were easier to remove, in theory, because all he had to do to remove them was make a single cut in the thread and then pull. However the trouble came when the flesh and skin healed poorly and it bunched around the stitches. If he pulled that, he would be in danger of ripping the incision wound open again.
Today, however, Virikai was working on one of Fahe's subjects, and he, as the Head Researcher, was known for his impossibly precise stitching of sutures. The incision site in question was across the girl's torso. Thinking back to his readings on the human anatomy, he decided that he must be working directly above the diaphragm. Experienced hands handled the knife, as he cut through another stitch and slowly pulled the excess thread through and free.
Another moan, one that the Talius Scion ignored this time, as he placed the bloodied thread next to the others before picking at the next one with the blunted edge of a hook, looping it round and pulling it away from the healed skin before slipping a scalpel into the gap and easily slicing through the thread. With expert movements, he swivelled the hook in his fingers until the hook was resting in his palm other end was visible, where set of tweezers were clearly attached. Wasting no time, he gripped the loose end of the newly sliced stitch and, using the blunt edge of the scalpel and his index finger to keep the subject’s skin taut, he pulled the former stitch away from the healing skin, tugging lightly when it resisted his pull.
“What… what are you doing?” The voice was faint, but Virikai could still detect what he had only recently come to understand as a hysterical tone, bordering on desperation. Next would be the weak - but still noticeably frantic - tugging of the bonds which held the subject down to the gurney. When Virikai didn’t deign to reply, or even look over to her as he had swapped the tweezers around for the hook once again, the woman tried again, “Please… let me go. Stop, please, stop.”
At that, the young researcher did turn his gaze away from the intricately placed sutures to meet the girl’s eyes, “If I stop, it is very likely that the wound will become infected.” His words were enough, it seemed, for the human did not start struggling. His gaze lingered on the subject’s face for a few moments longer before, satisfied, he returned to his work.
