It's the same guy as before, that greets him when he reaches the end of the Never Ending Hallway. He's still in his Wall Window, and he greets Marley with;

"Mr. Nocona." The same as last time, Marley remembers because he's rarely ever referred to as Mr. anything. Marley just smiles. The one mainly reserved for politics, but this seems like the appropriate situation.

That's the only greeting he gives, until the guy says, "Doctor Rellik will see you, whenever you're ready."

Marley just nods, not wanting to say anything because there's a pretty high probability right now that his voice will crack and he doesn't need that.

He opens the door, feeling the guy's eyes on him the whole time, and steps through on shaky legs. Calm down, Marley, your pain tolerance has always been pretty good. You can make it through this, no problem. It'll all be fine—

Okay, yeah, that's not working. Just because he can deal with some cuts and bruises does not mean he wants whatever is in store for him here.

What is Doctor Rellik gonna do? What should Marley be expecting, here? Is everything that the people say here true? Is Marley really about to be seriously harmed all because he can't be seriously fucking harmed?

Like last time, the room is white and there's a chair in the middle. Marley immediately walks to the chair and sits down. Fuck it, let's just get it over with before he breaks down from nerves. Wouldn't be the first time and definitely not the last.

He waits for a moment. For the voice over the intercom thing to talk. However, the voice never comes, because metal cuffs appear from out of freakin' nowhere and trap his wrists and his ankles, effectively scaring him to death.

Well, okay. That's over with.

A few seconds later, the side door is opening and Doctor Rellik himself is stepping out. He looks the exact same as he did last time, white coat and all. He looks like a doctor.

"Marley Nocona, nice to see you again." He greets without making eye contact. He has a clipboard in his hand that he's looking at. He begins writing some stuff so Marley decides to survey the room, for lack of anything else to do. The first thing he notices is the whole hospital situation next to him. It's an IV and a heart monitor, from what he can tell. There's some other stuff that he sees but he really doesn't know what it is.

He's only been in a hospital a few times, and he has never even tried to understand anything medical—he has a hard enough time with exterior intersections, thanks—so the rest of the freaky machines and such in here are a mystery to him.

After a moment, he looks back over at the doctor, who finally decides to make eye contact with him. He's making a weird face, like one that you'd use when you're about to tell a kid their goldfish died. Marley already knows this visit will not be fun.

"I'm going to get right down to it, today I'll be seeing how you react to blood loss. I can do this two ways, one is going to take longer but not be as painful. The other will be quicker but you'll definitely feel it. Which one?"

Choose the form of torture. Okay, what should he go with? He doesn't really have much left to do, aside from lunch. It depends on how much time, but Dr. Rellik didn't specify and Marley doesn't want to ask.

Also, if it takes long he'll probably be bored. Or have to sit still. Both of those things would be absolutely horrible because they will both most likely end in him messing this up.

"I'll go with the quick one, please," he responds. His heartbeat is getting faster because however this guy is going to make him lose blood, no matter how, will absolutely suck. If it's going to be quick... what's he going to do? Stab Marley? Now that he's really thinking, that was probably the wrong decision. Crap.

"Okay," the doctor replies, and walks somewhere behind Marley. He comes back with some sticky things that are attached to wires. "I'm going to hook you up to an EKG to monitor your heart rate. I'll be making an incision on your body, and you'll bleed a lot. If you're sensitive to that then I'd recommend closing your eyes. I need you to change into your uniform."

Marley can't help but wonder who exactly isn't sensitive to bleeding out. Then, it occurs to him. "Uniform?"

Dr. Rellik looks back up from his clip board. "You were supposed to be given a uniform when you got here. If you don't have it I'll have to do this with your normal clothes. Well, unless you want to be naked."

Ah shit. Marley distantly remembers being told he needs a uniform but nobody actually gave him one. Was he supposed to ask for one when he went to the front office on that first day? Probably. He'll have to make a note to do that. Also, what's with that second option? No thanks.

"Yeah, you can just- I'll wear this."

Rellik raises an eyebrow. "You realize you'll never be able to wear that again, right?"

Marley just nods, avoiding eye contact. Like he has an actual choice here. Whatever, Mr. Rellik sir.

"Okay, lift up your shirt." He directs. Marley does as he's told and the doctor stars attaching the sticky pads onto various places on his chest. There are about five of them—two near his collarbone, one next to his heart, and two that feel like they're above the far sides of his rib cage—and they don't feel uncomfortable. Really, they're just sticky.

"I'll let you choose again. Would you rather me cut your aorta or your carotid artery?"

Jesus. This man is actually going to stab Marley, holy shit. Calm down. Breathe, come on Marley. In and out. He should have gone with the slow way. Is it too late to change?

"I-um..." Marley takes a deep breath. Is this actually happening? "Which one will hurt less?"

Rellik pauses, seeming to actually think about it. "Probably the aorta. Won't matter, though, you'll pass out in seconds either way. It'll just take longer to bleed out that way."

That does not make Marley freak out any less. He honestly doesn't even know where the aorta or the other one even is on his body. Actually, that would be something important to know. "Where are they at?" He can only assume that they're arteries, and aorta sounds vaguely familiar. Still, he'd like to really weigh his options.

"Your aorta is in your abdominal-diaphragm area and your carotid is in your throat."

Dang. Which one would hurt less? Getting shot in the throat absolutely sucked, so he doesn't know if slicing would be any different. Does he want to get stabbed in the stomach? Even if it's medically?

Well, he for sure knows that getting injured in throat hurts like hell. However, he doesn't know about his abdomen or diaphragm or whatever. So, "you can just cut the aorta." Because it might hurt less and he'll take what he can get.

Maybe Marley should have just left the decision to Rellik. He is the doctor here.

"Alright," Dr. Rellik replies. He pulls out some sort of marker and begins making a line where he said he would. He presses his hand under Marley's diaphragm and pauses for a moment. Honestly, Marley just wants this to be over.

"So how have you been settling into 1-A?" The doctor asks.

Marley looks at him like he's lost his mind. Small talk? Right now?

"Fantastic," he replies, voice strained. Rellik nods, finishing the markings after a moment and taking his hands off Marley altogether. Yeah, Marley is definitely going to pass out. Any second now—actually, as soon as he sees blood he's gonna he down for the count. There's going to be a lot of it, and it's going to go everywhere. This he can tell by the plastic the doctor is putting on over his clothes and the goggles. He's got the face mask on and a weird swim cap over his hair.

Yeah, this is gonna get messy. Rip Marley. Just kidding,

"Normally I'd tell you to calm down, but panicking makes the blood flow faster. So be my guest." There's a hint of humor in the doctor's voice and Marley would be thinking not so nice thoughts if he wasn't so busy trying not to combust.

After that sentence leaves Rellik's mouth, he feels it. Marley had been so lost in his thoughts he didn't see the doctor grab the scalpel looking thing. Now it's too late, there's no going back, and Marley is being sliced in half for science.

Rellik was right. Marley can only assume he finished cutting where he needed to because he can't see beyond all the blood spurting everywhere. The doctor is holding his hand above where the most of it is shooting out, but that does little in comparison to what's pouring over the sides of the bed. The pain is excruciating, resulting in him choking and coughing out—you guessed it—blood.

His vision swims, going dark around the edges. The last thing he sees is the blurring lights on the ceiling before he's out cold, about ten seconds after the doctor began.

-

When Marley wakes up, he's not surprised to see himself in the exact same place he was before. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lights, but when they do, he finds himself drenched in dried blood.

The doctor seemed to have had the courtesy to wash off his stomach a little bit, since he can see that the place the doctor cut is completely healed over. The only evidence of what he'd done is the blood everywhere. He also takes notice of the lack of metal cuffs around his wrists. There's also a bit of a sinking feeling in his gut that he definitely doesn't appreciate.

"Ah, you're awake." Marley hears a familiar voice from a few feet away. He twists around the best as he can in the chair and finds the doctor sitting at the other side of the room, examining something on a lap top. He notices that the floors look to have been cleaned up. That's proven correct when he sees the mop in the corner of the room, sitting in a yellow bucket and leaning against the wall

Something feels odd.

It's a rolling chair, apparently, as the doctor rolls himself over to his desk mounted on the wall. He grabs his clip board and gives Marley a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, you were only unconscious for about three hours."

There's something wrong.

"What... what happened? You did something to me." Marley's sure of it. Yes, he's positive. Something's amiss and he's about to get right to the bottom of it.

He just can't put his finger on it. He feels weird. What the hell did this guy do?

"Alright," the doctor responds, looking a little disappointed. "I was hoping I could wait to tell you this. I didn't think you'd bounce back so quick."

Yeah, well, I did. Now tell me what's wrong.

Marley just... he feels strange. Empty. Like there's something big—huge—wrong here, but he can't put his finger on it. He knows that the doctor drained his blood, and he should expect to feel weird after that, but—

Marley healed, though. He should be back to normal.

...right?

Wait a second.

Marley, slowly, reaches his hand up to his heart. Where he should feel a steady beating. The organ doing its job, regulating his blood throughout his body.

He doesn't feel anything. A fluke, he's sure of it.

Actually, he feels... he feels cold.

"After I drained you of blood, I had to stop your heart. You know, to make sure it didn't pump any more. It didn't seem to hurt you. In fact, you looked to be doing almost better than before. To put things simply, I decided to test it and the best way was to remove your heart entirely. Almost five minutes afterwards, you woke up."

This... no... this means that- Wait, he's... he doesn't-

"Your heart is currently in a glass case, in my office."

Marley's wants to go back asleep.

"Wha-" he chokes on his words, unable to think clearly. "How... why? Are you gonna put it back?"

"Actually, I was going to let you go a few days without it. You know, just to see how you do. The surgery to put it back won't be a problem. I'll actually give you anesthesia for that."

Actually, Marley's still unconscious. That's the only explanation. He needs to wake up, not go back to sleep. There's no way...

He lifts up his hand and begins to examine it. He looks like a corpse, that's how pale his skin is. He reaches up to press his palm to his chest and once again, he feels no heartbeat. Just cold skin. Like a zombie. Marley wants to scream.

"But what if I actually get hurt? What then? What if I really do die?" Marley's voice cracks at the end. He can't believe this. He reaches his hand up to his neck. His cold, dead neck. He feels nothing. His eyes feel watery but he's not crying. It's more like frustration and confusion trying to find an outlet. He can't think.

"You have a roommate. You should be fine. There are also emergency buttons under the light switch in all rooms in the facilities." He dismisses. Marley has no idea what to do. Like Nero would actually care if Marley was seriously hurt. What makes this guy think he will even be able to do that? That he'll have the strength to find an emergency button if he's in trouble? If he's really dying?

However, maybe the worst part is that he feels fine. Aside from the distinct sensation of something missing from him, he's doing alright. Sure, he's really cold and covered in dry blood, but health wise, he doesn't feel like anything's wrong.

"You can go when you feel up to it, come see me if you have any concerns." Then, leaving a very large amount of questions unanswered, he walks back into his little secret door place.

This feels like a freaking fever dream. Marley grasps the arms rests and hauls himself up to a standing position. He's a little disoriented, but is able to snap back after about a minute.

Okay. It's alright. He's fine. Sure, he's missing a vital organ and he sort of feels like he's about to puke. Other than that, though, everything's peachy. It's all good.

Marley is covered head to toe in blood. A quick survey around the room shows no other articles of clothing to cover himself with. Well, okay then. Guess he's just going to walk across this whole establishment with dried blood all over him. He needs a shower.

Holy cow, the thought of a shower is borderline orgasmic. Marley wastes no time, walking over to the door to the room. He opens it and doesn't spare the guy a glance as he walks down the long hallway. He sways a bit, leans against the wall a few times. After a few minutes, though, he's totally fine.

When he reaches his room, there's nobody in there. Absolutely fantastic. The rest of it is honestly a blur, he just grabs some clothes that don't match and walks out of the room. He notices people looking at him funny. Mostly in alarm. He doesn't care, though, as he reaches the showers.

Marley's horribly exhausted, he realizes once he makes his way back to his room after the best shower of his life. He doesn't know where Nero is and at this point he doesn't really care. Maybe the loss of his heart is taking a toll on him? He feels both unstoppable and agonizingly weak. It's a conflicting feeling, one that he doesn't want to deal with.

So, he does the one thing that's been on his mind since he woke up. He goes to sleep.