You stepped forward, your legs shaky beneath you. The next station was worse.
A red-haired giantess loomed over the table, fumbling with a needle the size of a javelin from your perspective. A tiny man lay on the steel surface in front of her, already pale and slick with blood. She’d clearly missed his vein — several times. The stainless-steel table beneath him was stained red.
He whimpered, barely able to move.
— “Please... stop… please…”
She didn’t even hear him. Or didn’t care.
With clinical indifference, she stabbed again, the needle punching through his skin like paper. The man let out a hoarse cry, legs twitching. Blood welled up around the puncture.
You watched in horror as he trembled, his voice fading into a soft, choking sob.
Then, another woman arrived — older, stern. Her white coat fluttered slightly as she walked up, her heels loud against the tile.
— “Melissa! Take your time and aim properly. That’s lost money, and it’s already the third one you’ve ruined this week!”
Melissa looked ashamed. The older woman grabbed a rag from nearby and gently picked up the little man, wrapping him in it like a broken doll. He cried harder — not in pain this time, but gratitude.
— “Thank you… thank you…”
Then you heard a metallic click.
The trash bin opened.
The woman casually let go of the rag.
The tiny man fell screaming into the dark container below.
— "Sorry. I'll do better with this one," Melissa said quickly, turning toward you.
Your breath caught in your throat. Her gloved hands reached for you. You were placed onto a sticky plastic sheet. The adhesive clung to your back, holding you still. You squirmed — it didn’t matter.
She brought the needle down.
It pierced your leg cleanly. You cried out — a short, sharp sound — as she drew your blood, her fingers steady this time. The pain was sharp, but nothing like what you’d just seen.
Once finished, she peeled you free with a loud rip and set you down.
— “Urinate in the jar,” she said flatly.
She slid a small clear container in front of you. You stood there awkwardly, waiting. Time dragged. Finally, your bladder responded. You relieved yourself, cheeks burning with shame as she watched you like a lab animal.
She took the sample and waved you forward.
You moved on, legs still shaky, eyes glancing back at the trash bin, half-expecting to see a hand reaching out from inside.
You stepped into the next station…
And froze.
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