Based from @rainsonata‘s headcanon
Word count: 835
Times I’ve been stabbed while writing: 835 _______________________________________
A little boy with
white hair was forcefully led into a bright room. His name was Add, with the age of 5 he had his parents killed and taken in as a slave during the war. His large magenta eyes darted around the room, confused of what’s going on. He didn’t
like the way the adults treated him here and he just missed the warm embrace of his mother. The men had led Add into the middle of the room where a large chair-bed stucture was and tied him down with cold metal cuffs. The smal group left and left the child with a single man with a white coat. The mere sight of the man gave Add the creeps. It was not only that, but when he was gentlysetting a golf-ball sized object with a cirlce pattern of the color of his eyes into a bowl inscribed with tiny letters. They read: “Nasod Eye: Slave No.201” . That freaked Add out and he tried to move around in the chair, but to no surprise he can’t escape the strong grips of
the cuffs. The coated man had finally spoken.
“Child, this will hurt a little.
But it will be over soon so don’t fret and be a good boy.”
Those words started to make sense into the little boy’s head, and he realized what was happening. There was going to be pain. The thought of it made in squirm and he was scared. Really scared. Then the man put on his gloves and slowly approached Add. His bespectacled face was close to Add’s and with a hand he pulled out the little boy’s left eyelids as far as it could go. This caused Add to blink a lot, hurting a little bit in the left side of his face. Then the man suddenly-
Add’s eye out.
The little boy’s remaining eye widened and tears streamed out along with the fresh blood of his
other eye. Screams echoed down the hallways. Add panted, and his breath was ragged.
A little while
later, he calmed down a little bit, but the pain was still there, and the blood didn’t stop flowing, but it slowed down. Add was tired from all the screaming and thrashing around. The man returned again. With the spheric object in hand.It was wet from being in the bowl, but the man handled it with care. He approached Add again, with some sort of tool that helped keeping the eyelids open. Add rebelled again, but this time the tool had came in contact with his skin, and scratched a long lightning-shaped line along the left side of his face, reaching his chin. Once he felt the stinging, it calmed him down. That didn’t stop the fear he was feeling from the object being unconfortable close
to his now empty left eye socket. Add took in short, disrupted breaths and suddenly-
The pain had come again. Add yelled out in agony, but barely managed to move at all on the chair, his tears riding the surface of his cheek, wetting his shirt. It was too painful. Too painful for a small child like him to shoulder. The object now moved around his eye socket, and it was like a thousand needles were jabbed everywhere everytime it moved. He want to go back, he wanted to escape, he
wanted to come into the loving arms of his parents again, he missed them. Gradually, the area to his left came back to view, blurry at first, but then sharper than normal. Was it and eye that they replaced?…
Time sat up, his breathing uneven from the nightmare of that day. He rose his hand to touch his face, and left out a quiet chuckle.Who cares about that thing of the past anymore… He made his way to the bathroom of the small apartment he owned in the city of Velder, where he studied time and space equations. He broke away from a chain of thoughts and looked up to the mirror. And image of a boy with ruffled white hair and magenta eyes stared back at him. But only something was wrong, the left eye’s sclerae was inky
black, and the pupils were power-button shaped and glowing with the bright magenta iris he had. A thin pink lightning-shaped scar ran down his face in the same direction. The nasod energy had started infesting into the open skin a few days after the implantation, with dry blood still stained on his face, clothes, and hair. No time to worry about that either. A while later, Time stood at the doorway with a black and purple eyepatch in hand, and fully clothed. He finally secured the eyepatch on with lots of struggle. Today he was going to consult to Glave- the administrator of time and space –about traveling time and space itself. He was going to get what he longed for in desperate times.
His mother’s warm touch.