Without much thinking the alpaca made his way out of the crowd and through the dim alley. The only person crossing his path was a fox in a trench coat and his red scarf swaying behind him intact with his tail. He seemingly was involved in a pretty heated conversation with himself.

Around the next corner the backstreet split into a staircase. One side leading up, the other led down. A dim light shone meters away from the dark patch he stood at.

However, before he was able to fully enter the light — he felt a stinging sensation hit his throat. Someone had laid a cold wing around his neck, strangling his attempt to fight back or scream out loud…

His last cry deafened down in his throat before the injection hit. Within seconds, his vision blurred, faded and at last turned dark.

After some time, slowly the alpaca regained his consciousness, though his vision was still blurry – merging into a swirl of dark colours with a bright light overhead. The air burned in his lungs as he took his first breath, coughing up a steam of build up blood.

"You're conscious." Said a shadowy figure, his silhouette barely visible - against the bright light. "It's good to see that I chose the right subject." His words carried a certain curious tone with a light sensation of anticipation.

"Im… the right — what?" The alpaca said confused, still dizzy his words were mumbled — hardly audible against the pressing hum of the stale ventilator rotating right above him. "W — where the fuck am… I. Oh, my head – it hurts…"

"You are in my lab… I have decided you are sufficient as my next subject ~" He chuckled wickedly, his frame seeming to skim through various objects on a table across.

"Your … what? What are you talking about?" The alpaca attempted to move, though with belts his limbs had been restrained to the rusty steel table … "Hey, what the fuck — !"

"Oh, your a fast one — aren't you? you will soon be released. but not after I have derived the last bit of use from you…" His words were spoken eccentrically — almost like a performance.

"Why me…" He groaned in struggle. "what did I do."

"I initially planned on extracting elderly couple — would have been a child's play " he devilishly giggled " but then you coughed up so heavy that I came to the conclusion you must suffer from Smoglung… given your physical status you won't be much of use for the society when the sickness spreads… Which is gonna be soon so It will render your useless, disposable — not a thorn in the eye of the government."

"What? You're— you're a freak!!!" The alpaca screamed with all his might.

"Oh?" The guy only chuckled delighted. "you will soon relate." The shrouded figure spun around, spreading his featherless wings wide — partially blocking out the only dim light source that loomed above. For a moment his silhouette appeared in the center of the light, like an angel descending but with malicious intent. His wings were partially transparent, it was only by the next step that the alpaca could make out the species. It was a bat… "Feel honoured, you're gonna be a participant in my Bloodshed Study..."

"W - What are you gonna do ? D - drink my blood?"

"Your what?" He repaired disgusted. "NO, Just because im a bat - doesn't mean I drink blood okay? Damn prejudices people have these days. I'm merely gonna sever your limbs, take you apart — in the name of science. Perhaps I'm able to aid after all..."

"What!? What does that mean!" He said with a shaky voice. "They're, they're gonna stop you!"

"Hahahaha, the PTC? you're funny kid… Each 'crime' I commit saves them wasted tax money ~ plus my sheer presence gives them a reason to up Enforcer density. If they really wanted to — they could have long stopped me, though why should they?" The bat snickered, as he spun around with his wings waving in the air. He seemed to pick up a syringe, eyeing it closely he snipped its pointy top with his pinkie.

"That should be enough to keep you stationary. Don't worry, you wont be paralyzed for long ~ you'll still feel it though." He chortled wickedly before injecting the needle right into the alpaca.

"HEY! " Each attempt to fight back was pointless and as the injection merged with the blood the screams and kicks slowed down to a weak strangle, "AHhh – ahhhh …."and lastly died completely static. "ah… a—h—hhh….." He whimpered to himself.

However, despite the bodily paralysis, each cut was still palpable. The pain made him scream from the inside out, faint moments - individual cuts went as smooth as through butter with a sharp scalpel- transitioning in and out of consciousness between the pain and agony. Scissors cutting flesh, saws sowing bones or drills whirring with blood-splatters. The alpacas body felt like it went up in flames, before inevitably passing out.

Meanwhile the bat was astonished, with blood-dripping hands, he noted down new ideas new theory and new disgusting methods, in between each scribble inspired murmurs escaped his mouth — "Yesss… this will be satisfactory. " He said in delight. "You were an astonishing subject, at last you were of use, you're welcome."

"Another one to the streets —"

Slowly the alpaca woke up, face down on the wet concrete. It was flushing so water filled the streets of the city to reduce smog levels. The alpacas first inhale seemed to be blocked off somehow… He couldn't inhale — so panic took over. Wanting to support himself, he attempted to raffle up though when he wanted to shift his arm he grew aware of his bodily status and the deepest of shivers ran down his soul.

His right arm has been completely amputated, down to the stump of his elbow, his right arm barely a shred of what it used to be — unrecognizable a mix of torn flesh and bones. Both legs, too, were gruesomely butchered. All wounds, still open spilling red blood which tainted the already wet floor. Though the color quickly dissolved in the body of water — like the city was washing its sins clean right as it happened. There was no sensation, but the pain in his mind.

His heavy breaths hurt, hardly giving justice — purely breathing in through his nostrils. They hurt almost like his sown off limbs. He couldn't glance at them for too long, for else he felt like puking.

It was a gross picture. His bones were visible at the end, splintery — between the raw flesh and tendons. The exhaustion made him cough and more blood flooded his mouth. Unable to spit it out he had no choice but to swallow it… he nearly choked on it.

Terror arose inside the alpaca when he heard the same familiar voice behind him speak, slow and rehearsed.

"How much blood until you can't move… Your heart rate. Woow — it's dropping again." The sound of a pen hitting paper, scribbling down in anticipation — with pondering murmurs in between thought-breaks.