#...maybe muzzled because humans scared he's gonna bite lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ewze · 6 years

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juuust a clean copy of the nonsense i sent to @mushroomminded because it’s probably easier to read this way, lol

hmmm, what if someone kidnaps Matt to use him as a test subject; but instead of just, plain ol' torture, they take away his clothes, shave off his hair, steal away every bit of person he has. and then force him to undergo trails- fighting against wild dogs, against nature itself, and every time he cries and calls for his friends, he gets shocked, gets hurt, because they want something feral and inhuman, and Matt's gonna become that, no matter how hard he struggles

and at some point or another, he slowly loses himself- he starts forgetting his name, because they call him nothing but 'subject'. they don't give him food, just lets out wild animals for him to hunt down and kill, and when he's so far gone he's forgotten he's human, they take him back out to poke and prod, to look at his brain, and Matt tries to fight them off- tries to bite and claw and all that leads to is him wearing a muzzle, chained up tight

they'd cut him open, sew him back together and let him out in his little enclosure, and Matt would be so LOST, so confused and in pain, and he'd just curl up in a corner, claw pitifully at the stitches and cry and cry, head full of cotton and blurry memories and thoughts, and Matt doesn't understand, because at this point, humanity feels so far off it's unreal

and like, they'd probably poison the water or something, to test if he can figure out it's poison, so he'd get sick, curl up and vomit a lot, and he'd be so FRANTIC, because he can't go anywhere! and he needs water!! so he'd just push himself until he has no choice but to drink more, and it just makes him vomit until there's nothing at all left, and he'd be so afraid of everything- he can't trust the water, probably can't trust the food either, but he has no CHOICE

so he'd lose weight rapidly and fast, and he'd stop hunting down food, because what's the point? he's just going to vomit it back up again. and he's too weak to do anything but lay curled up, mind scrambling for something to hold onto, and he can just barely remember being happy and warm and safe, and Matt doesn't know the people he sees, when he closes his eyes tight and think hard. they're green and blue and they love him, and Matt doesn't know why they left him

maybe it was something he did? maybe he was bad, and Matt doesn't remember humanity, how it feels, but he can think in vague terms, in half-thoughts, and he thinks: maybe they gave him up. maybe they sold him away. maybe this is what he deserves, for whatever bad thing he did. and Matt's weak and pitiful, and he just wants to STOP, wants to lie down and never move again- but the scientist are there, fixing him, putting him back together, and Matt cries so hard it hurts

and he gains back weight, just enough to not be a ghost, rail-thin and weak; but he doesn't exist, barely moves. and every time he curls up, he'd get another shock, more pain, and Matt paces around his enclosure, shaking and crying, because all he wants to do is not exist, but he has no choice- he has to move, he has to hunt, he has to eat. and that part of Matt- the part that's still human, that's still REAL, breaks.

there's no light in his eyes. no nothing. he moves and he hunts and he eats, but he does it robotically, automatically- he doesn't do it because he wants to. he does it because that's what They want, and so he will. and the scientist are delighted, because /yes/ look at this, this perfect tool we've created. so they start throwing him against more animals, to see how clever he is, to test his limits. and Matt does it because that's what They want.

and then one day, Matt bruised and bloodied, with bite marks all along his arms, someone raids the place. there's alarms and noise and Matt paces his enclosure, walks along the walls and waits for Them. except when the door, usually hidden into the wall, opens, it's not a scientist. it's not anyone he knows. it's a blue person, standing stock still and wide-eyed, who takes one, hesitant step forward- who calls out, voice shaking: "Matt?"

and Matt tilts his head, hands at his sides, and wonders if this is a new test. if this is someone he has to fight or eat or something else entirely. he doesn't know. and the blue person is stepping closer and closer, wary and with shaky hands, green tinged at their cheeks. and Matt steps back, growls- repeating back the sounds the dogs would make when they'd crowd around him, snapping at him with their teeth, and the blue person freezes in place

“Matt?” they call out again, and Matt backs up another step, because something about that name itches- pulls at the stitches in his head, at the thoughts churning there, and the blue person steps forward again, palms out, and Matt's afraid

this person is familiar. and it hurts and breaks, and Matt doesn't know them, doesn't recognize them, just knows that he should, and he whines, claws at his head, because he's supposed to follow orders- do as They say, and now there's no Them, just him and this stranger, and Matt's lost and scared and he wants to stop

"it's okay," the stranger calls out, stepping closer and closer. "it's me- Tom. you're okay."

and Matt wants to snap and break and rip the skin off their bones, but all he can do is back up, back away, and eventually he ends up in a corner, pressed in tight, and Tom kneels down before him, face grim and sad and familiar

"what happened to you?" they ask, soft and gentle, and Matt cuts his nails into the soft of his throat, wants to shake and bleed and not exist, not be here, can They come back and take over, can he go back to fighting and hunting and doing as he's told-

and Tom reaches out, lays his hand on Matt's head, and Matt keens, broken and sad and tiny, and he collapses in on himself, curls up into a tiny ball and cries, shakes with it, chest heaving and body shuddering, and Tom curls his fingers through the soft fuzz on his head (short and pitiful) and tries to shush him, tries to comfort him, but Matt's gone, is out, isn't responding at all

and when he next comes to, he's bundled up in a cot, wearing human clothes, bandaged and washed, and Matt doesn't recognize the place- doesn't recognize the stranger on the walls or the thousand trinkets lying around, and he curls up there, wraps his arms around himself, because this isn't real, this isn't where he's supposed to be, so he stays there, tiny and scared, and waits for Them to come back

they don't.

instead someone new- a green person, with a kind and sad face, shows up, and calls that name, and talks to him, and gives him soft food (bread) and doesn't move too fast or too suddenly, and Matt's so lost- he's never been allowed to hurt people before, so it's not his first instinct, but he's scared and confused and doesn't even really realize he understands them. he wants to go back to his enclosure. he wants to know what to do

and it's hard. he flinches and stays in bed, doesn't talk or even make a sound- sometimes, if they move too quick he'll lash out, back up, and it's hard. he doesn't respond to his name, to them- there's no real recognition in his face, no real person there, and even when they eventually get him out of bed, he stays in one place, or follows them around like a dog, head bowed and shoulders raised, and it's

hard.

time passes. Matt flinches still, doesn't talk- but he doesn't lash out, doesn't cower, doesn't sit there with that look on his face, like this is worse than the enclosure. and one day, when Tom and Edd are quietly watching TV, Matt watching it from the side, itching to press his fingers to the screen and follow the people along, he speaks

his voice is rough and harsh and painful, but he parrots back a word they said from the TV, one they'd said more than once, and it's like a breaking point

like a damn bursting, like something once broken glued back together- and it's not okay, it's not fixed. but Matt starts talking, haltingly, slowly. starts acting more like a person than a dog, more like someone real than fake. and there's still no recognition, no clear remembrance, but it's a start

#eddsworld #myfics #i guess?#it's not. really a fic but whatever

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