Suki Fondrian PhD
Sure, my medical licence was revoked!
Contains trigger warnings: Violent themes
Sukianne sighed, looking at the scalpel in her hand. She was...lost. The patient was right there, in front of her, currently asleep but not for long- if only she could get it together! "Ugh!" Suki exclaimed, throwing down the surgical tool. It landed blade first, and Suki instantly regretted it. She picked it up, cradling it in her hands. "I'm sorry." She said, looking at the tip. It didn't seem to be harmed, as it was high quality. Suki tested it against her patient's leg. He woke up with a start and began to plead. "Please please please, Doc, let me go, this isn't an experiment anymore this is just fucked up." "SHUT UP!" Suki bellowed, and he silenced immediately. She felt her eyes sting, and dug the scalpel in deeper. He cried out. She felt...nothing. No joy, no excitement. Hell, she would have settled for feeling slightly aroused. But all she felt was the cold metal against her hand, warming slowly, guarded slightly by the nitrile blue glove. She took the instrument out of the man's leg, and sat down on the table next to him. "Man, I just don't feel it anymore. Cutting you up used to get me so...so...high. Y'know?" She asked him. When he didn't answer, she shot him a sharp look. "I've noticed, Doc. You're a lot nicer now." He replied cautiously. Was this a trap? Then she began to cry. "Ah, Doc, don't, you just need to get your groove back!" Why the fuck was he encouraging this psycho bitch? Pain in his leg aside, she certainly was a pitiful sight. He was so used to seeing her invincible, sneering at his futile kicks and pleas for freedom. Like a merciless Goddess. But she seemed human now. And despite his best efforts, her tears got to him. "Yeah, just...go out, and find someone who really makes you feel something. Then, take them home and..." He trailed off. He knew what would happen next. He would die. She never let anyone go when she got a replacement. "Find someone?" She asked, wiping her tears and sniffing. She was really very pretty, even with puffy red eyes. "Yeah! And then you can get back into it!" He repeated, and she smiled. "Thank you. I'll be back in a day or less." And she hurried herself around with cleaning his wound. He admitted, she was a bit sloppier with her sutures, but didn't mind. She was happy at least. It was a lot better than being angry. As she left the laboratory, he sighed and leaned his head back on the table. Shit. Was this what they called Stockholm Syndrome? Suki got ready. She took a very long very hot shower, and then actually performed some much-needed self care. Brushing her hair out took the longest amount of time. It was terribly tangled. Had she really appeared in front of her patient like this? She was disgusted with herself. This only motivated her a bit further. With her make-up, a nice black dress, and her rarely worn heels on, she walked out the door, and into the city.
Sukianne sighed, looking at the scalpel in her hand. She was...lost. The patient was right there, in front of her, currently asleep but not for long- if only she could get it together! "Ugh!" Suki exclaimed, throwing down the surgical tool. It landed blade first, and Suki instantly regretted it. She picked it up, cradling it in her hands. "I'm sorry." She said, looking at the tip. It didn't seem to be harmed, as it was high quality. Suki tested it against her patient's leg. He woke up with a start and began to plead. "Please please please, Doc, let me go, this isn't an experiment anymore this is just fucked up." "SHUT UP!" Suki bellowed, and he silenced immediately. She felt her eyes sting, and dug the scalpel in deeper. He cried out. She felt...nothing. No joy, no excitement. Hell, she would have settled for feeling slightly aroused. But all she felt was the cold metal against her hand, warming slowly, guarded slightly by the nitrile blue glove. She took the instrument out of the man's leg, and sat down on the table next to him. "Man, I just don't feel it anymore. Cutting you up used to get me so...so...high. Y'know?" She asked him. When he didn't answer, she shot him a sharp look. "I've noticed, Doc. You're a lot nicer now." He replied cautiously. Was this a trap? Then she began to cry. "Ah, Doc, don't, you just need to get your groove back!" Why the fuck was he encouraging this psycho bitch? Pain in his leg aside, she certainly was a pitiful sight. He was so used to seeing her invincible, sneering at his futile kicks and pleas for freedom. Like a merciless Goddess. But she seemed human now. And despite his best efforts, her tears got to him. "Yeah, just...go out, and find someone who really makes you feel something. Then, take them home and..." He trailed off. He knew what would happen next. He would die. She never let anyone go when she got a replacement. "Find someone?" She asked, wiping her tears and sniffing. She was really very pretty, even with puffy red eyes. "Yeah! And then you can get back into it!" He repeated, and she smiled. "Thank you. I'll be back in a day or less." And she hurried herself around with cleaning his wound. He admitted, she was a bit sloppier with her sutures, but didn't mind. She was happy at least. It was a lot better than being angry. As she left the laboratory, he sighed and leaned his head back on the table. Shit. Was this what they called Stockholm Syndrome? Suki got ready. She took a very long very hot shower, and then actually performed some much-needed self care. Brushing her hair out took the longest amount of time. It was terribly tangled. Had she really appeared in front of her patient like this? She was disgusted with herself. This only motivated her a bit further. With her make-up, a nice black dress, and her rarely worn heels on, she walked out the door, and into the city.
