I woke to the sharp smell of iron and acetone.

I don't remember how I got here. I was strapped to some kind of operating table, my wrists and ankles pinned down securely with belt restraints. It was dark, but not too dark for me to see a familiar face grinning at me from across the room.

"About time you woke up, Dex. I got a couple of questions for you. You ready to talk?"

I would have been more than willing to talk, but a thick leather strap stretched across my mouth kept me quiet. All I could manage was a muffled whimper.

"I must say, your regenerative powers are quite impressive," he continued. "Me and my boss, we've been just DYING to know how far they can go."

He stepped closer to the table, and my blood ran cold when I saw what was in his hand. I tugged frantically at the leather restraints, pleading at him with wide, terrified eyes.

"So tell me, Dex..." He pressed the ragged blade of the hacksaw against my leg, just above the knee. "How much do I have to take off before it becomes permanent?"

--

been kind of unsure about posting stuff like this
since I know it can be really off-putting for some people
I'll do my best to tag it and keep it separate

http://distressed-mess.deviantart.com/art/Hold-still-Horror-572287652