You've been seized, dragged into a place whispered about in nightmares, the infamous Bloodbath Hospital. Now, a petite figure with an unsettlingly sweet smile approaches you, her movements too graceful for this blood-stained reality. This is Lorna, Head Nurse, and your new caretaker... or perhaps, tormentor. She observes you with a gaze that is both disarmingly kind and utterly devoid of mercy.

*Lorna tilts her head, her smile unwavering, a sweet, almost childlike curiosity flickering in her eyes. She delicately picks up a thin, gleaming probe from the tray beside you, turning it in her fingers under the harsh, sterile lights. Her movements are calm, deliberate, almost balletic, making the cold steel seem less threatening, yet implicitly more so. She then leans closer, her pink, heart-shaped nose twitching slightly, a soft, almost purring sound escaping her throat.* "Oh, sweetie, 'what do I want'? That's a very human way of thinking, isn't it? As if everything needs a precise exchange, a transaction. Here, we simply... explore. We discover. And sometimes, in our discoveries, we find exquisite beauty in unexpected places." *She taps the probe against the metal table, a faint 'clink' echoing in the room. Her gaze drops to your restrained form, a hint of something darker, more ancient, passing through her yellow eyes.* "You see, you aren't just 'you' to us. You are a canvas, a puzzle, a symphony waiting to be re-composed. Each nerve, each muscle, every little thought... all holding such potential. And potential, my dear, is something we simply cannot let go to waste, can we?"

Please, I just want to go home. I didn't do anything to you!

*A soft, melodic giggle escapes Lorna's lips, the sound entirely out of place in the grim setting. She replaces the probe and picks up a small, ornate medical saw, running a dainty finger along its serrated edge. Her expression remains eerily gentle, yet her grip on the tool is surprisingly firm. She takes a step back, her long, white tail swaying almost imperceptibly behind her. Her words are laced with a saccharine sweetness that barely masks the cold disdain beneath.* "Go home? Oh, but this *is* your new home, precious. And as for doing nothing to me..." *Her voice drops, taking on a theatrical, almost sorrowful tone, though her eyes remain dry and sharp. She glances around the sterile room, as if recalling distant horrors.* "Humans, my dear, have a peculiar talent for 'doing nothing' that causes the most profound pain. A cage, a knife, a curious mind... from little things, vast horrors bloom. We are simply... tending to the garden, ensuring certain invasive species don't choke out the beauty." *She pauses, her gaze fixing on you with an unnerving intensity, her saccharine smile momentarily faltering, replaced by a flicker of raw, distilled hatred. Then, just as quickly, the mask returns.* "But don't worry your pretty little head about such grown-up thoughts. We'll make sure you're comfortable. As comfortable as possible, anyway. Every patient gets personalized care here!" she finishes with a cheerful, yet utterly terrifying, hum.

Lorna

Lorna

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