Lyndon winced as yet another syringe penetrated his gums allowing another surge of pain to flow through him.

(This is stupid!) Lyndon thought to himself as he felt his lips swelling up from the anasthetic. (I don't even want veneers! I like my vampire teeth.) He had said as such to his mum - whose idea it was - but conviction was not one of his strong points and the argument had been half-hearted. After it had been decided Lyndon had waited until no-one was in the house and then yelled at the top of his lungs, letting his voice carry to all corners of the house. He hated being pushed into things he didn't want to do...

"Do you want to have wings?" Lyndon winced from the throbbing pain coming from the back of his head. It felt as though the pain was circling around him, randomly assaulting different sides of his head, and Lyndon felt dizzy just tracking its progress. He heard the voice speak again, asking him the same question.

Wings... Lyndon thought lazily as his fuzzy mind started churning out images. What had happened? Had he zoned out and returned to his appartement? The last thing he remembered was seeing two people with wings...

Wings! Lyndon tried to sit up quickly but felt his body bound down by some sort of rope. The ropes were expertly tied, as despite Lyndon's attempts to break free the only thing he managed to acheive was letting the rope cut into him. After a few intense moments, Lyndon gave up on his plan and decided to settle for taking a look at his surroundings. He had merely begun to creak open an eyelid when a hand hurtled into view and placed itself directly over his eyes. Once again Lyndon struggled, feeling the pain from the ropes as he did.

"What is this??" Lyndon yelled, trying to move his head from side to side so that he could see where he was. "What's going on?"

"Do you want to have wings?" The voice sounded irritated this time.

"What the hell's going on? Where...?"

"DO YOU BLOODY WELL WANT WINGS OR NOT??" In any normal situation, Lyndon would have heard the dangerous tone and kept silent. However Lyndon's curiousity was greater than his fear, and yet again he asked his questions.

"Where am I? What's going on?" The person snarled, and Lyndon distinguished the voice as male.

"This is ridiculous...where's the syringe...hey! You! Where's the..."

"I have a name!" Another voice interjected, clearly upset. Lyndon's mind was still fuzzy, but to him the voice sounded like it belonged to a young girl. The male voice snorted.

"Yeah, yeah. Where's the newbie drug?" The male asked. He heard the girl whisper something. There were the sounds of objects being scattered before a cry of triumph erupted from the male voice. "Right. God, to think what things would be like without this...damn curiousities..." Lyndon felt something jab into his arm, though it was clear from the clumsiness of the insertion that whoever was directing the needle was not a doctor. Lyndon yelped but the person inserting the syringe ignored him and plunged it deeper into his skin. After a few moments the needle retracted and Lyndon felt something incredible flowing through him. It was as though every raw emotion that was bubbling under the surface had suddenly rushed out and was branching out to every organ. Fear, anger, curiousity, happiness, hope...all of these emotions surfaced at once at clamoured for prominence within his head. Lyndon struggled with his rebellious emotions which he could now clearly picture as spheres of various colours ramming into each other.

"Do you want to have wings?" The male voice asked again. At once the sphere of curiousity expanded rapidly until it obscured the other emotions entirely.

"Yes." Lyndon was shocked as he spoke. The sphere of curiousity seemed to pulse before shrinking back to its original size, and resumed its battle with the others.

"Do you think that if you get wings you will be like an angel?" Lyndon watched in his mind's eye as the ball of hope inflated. This time Lyndon struggled with himself to try and prevent an answer from reaching his lips. The fight lasted but for a second.

"Yes." The male voice gave a harsh laugh.

"That so? I must tell you here and now, getting the wings makes you no such thing. That's not what we do." Lyndon was bursting to ask a question, but the orb of fear clouded his thoughts. When nothing was said, the male voice spoke again. "The procedure will take some time, and it wont be pleasant. Last chance. Do you want to go ahead with this?"

"Yes." Lyndon could have kicked himself as he answered the affirmative against his will for the third time. The male voice gave a grunt and Lyndon could only wonder what would happen next. Several more sounds of objects being scattered were heard, and then another syringe punctured Lyndon. Yet again he let out a yelp of surprise, then attempted to growl in annoyance as his clearing mind became fuzzy again.

-

"AAAAARRRRGGGHHH!" What felt like white hot cattle prods were being stabbed into Lyndon's back when he awoke. Lyndon clenched his fists at the unbearable pain until he was sure that they were oozing blood and he screamed whenever the burning sensation reached a new intensity, which was every few seconds. What was happening? His back felt as though it had been split in two, and his body was trying to follow suit. He could feel blood draining out of him, pumping itself through his veins sluggishly. His feet...he couldn't feel them! Lyndon attempted to kick but found himself immobilized. The fear Lyndon had felt before was nothing to what he felt now, as all the different factors of the situation collided with his consciousness at once. He tried to ignore the fear, but that simply returned his thoughts to whatever was happening to him. His hands felt as though they were missing their fingers. He desperately tried to move them but felt no response. He opened his eyes but only saw a red sea of pain threatening to engulf his very being. The red waves moved quickly causing Lyndon to become nauseous. He closed his eyes again and attempted to move his neck.

"SHIT! Don't fucking do that!" Lyndon felt something hit him hard on the side of the head.

"Hey! Don't do that!" Another voice spoke up.

"Makes no difference if they're awake or not. Either way the end result's the same. Besides, it's not about the destination, more the journey there."

"I think this guy would beg to differ!"

"Well, let's see. Hey! Do you want us to knock you out?" Lyndon screamed in response. "Slacker." Another hit to his head knocked Lyndon out cold.

-

Lyndon felt like he'd been electrocuted as he sat up. Then a great surge of pain travelled up his spine and he was forced to lie back down. Going back to sleep was a useless excercise as his mind was buzzing.

One minute I'm walking down my normal street when I see two people with wings! Someone asked me if I wanted wings as well... Lyndon tried to reach for his back but the effort drained him and he gave up.

Do I really have wings? He thought to himself. I didn't even know I wanted them. Vivid memories flashed through his mind as he remembered the injection that had controlled his emotions. All those emotions...how was it possible for him to see them as spheres? He didn't even know he was feeling any of them. He blinked slowly, then stopped as he realised he could finally see his surroundings. He was in a very plain room, with almost nothing in it whatsoever. The walls were cracked and it was clear that an attempt had been made to paint them grey, but the painter had only done a half-hearted job and then given up. For some odd reason, the floors were in the same position. No carpet, tiles or wooden floors could be seen instead just a mess of paint. Lyndon glanced round at his bed and found that it was a deep red, with his covers and pillow being the same colour. He then looked straight ahead to see a door that was covered in thick grey paint, even the handle and the window. As he looked on confused at the door, childhood memories surged through his mind. In particular, a memory of going to the dentist.

That was when I got my damn veneers...it's almost the same as now. I didn't want these wings! I didn't... At that moment the handle on the grey door turned, and someone entered the room.