Bloody Hands

When I woke up, the room was spinning. I tried to focus my eyes, but it wasn’t working. The room was still spinning, and my eyes were going wackadoodle. “The hell..?” I said, as the faded blue paint swayed. There wasn’t anything in the room--
That except for torture tools next to me.
I was laid out on a long bed. The bed was black, with brown leather straps. The bed was comfy, but I was tied down, so I couldn’t move.
With those details, I had a feeling I knew what was going to happen next.
My first thought was I had to get out of this. I struggled to pull a plan together. It felt like my brain was spinning as well, so I’m not sure how good it may be. They must’ve put me on some drug to make me like this.
Two men walked in. One had light brown hair with hazel eyes, very tall and muscular, and the other was short, fat, and had crazy looking green eyes, and no hair. I hadn’t seem them before, so I honestly don’t know how many people he has working for him.
“Let me go at onccce...” my voice slurred. What the hell did they put in me?!
“After you tried to , I think so.” the tall one said.
“What?” I said. He repeated, and I still couldn’t hear all of what he was saying. That damn drug better wear off soon or someone’s going to get hurt.
That said, I am tied down on a chair . . . .
The small fat one lifted up a knife--a big knife, and I was sure with my wackadoodle vision it was probably bigger than I thought it was. He waved it around, as if he was playing with it.
The other one took a washcloth and draped it over my eyes. “Nooo,” I said, slurring again.
“Don’t toouch me!” I said, as clear as I could.
I felt an immense pain shoot through my wrist. I cried out. It hurt so much I could only breathe a small “Stop” that they probably didn’t hear. I could feel blood dripping all over my wrist, and it made me feel so . . . strange. The pain distracted me from paying much attention to that.
They chatted quietly for a minute while I was whimpering. I couldn’t think a straight thought, and my head was twisting around--or that’s how I felt.
They took the towel off, to expose my bleeding wrist. I winced. I’m not afraid of blood, but I don’t exactly welcome it.
Pain struck through my other wrist as I watched him slice it. “STOP!” I said. I couldn’t breathe well--I was hyperventilating.
I closed my eyes. I felt a pain a on my arm. Screeching, I opened my eyes. For a second, my vision was white, then I saw a whole chunk of skin off. The tall one wobbled it over my face. I was keeping back puke.
*WARNING EXTREMELY GROSS*
He took the piece of flesh and popped it into his mouth. I saw the blood in his mouth, mixed with my skin. The sight was unbearable. I couldn’t hold it anymore, I puked all over myself. The gross stomach fluid was all over me, for I had such little food, most of it was stomach fluid.
He continued torturing me. He cut my face, my arms, my legs, and other places I’d not like to mention. I felt like blood was covering me when he finally finished. He had to clean me up, but when he did, I still felt horrible.
I felt pain---lots of it--pain. Fire feeling, like my soul was missing before everything went black.