Sketch for practice.
After treatment Walker was brought back to his cell.
A deranging humming was stuck in his head and he saw the flickering images of the morphogenic engine behind his eyes, engraved like burn marks to his mind.
He blinked but the pattern wouldn't fade. He struggled and fell to the ground.
The maddening noise got louder in his ears and the flickering images intensified. In a maddening vicious ripping his mind slipped away and returned to reality.
Little was left of a sane mind he clinged to one final thought: "Make it stop"
He reached for his face and began to beat against his forhead.
"Stop it" he whispered and intensified the force.
The pattern spun faster before his eyes and an unbearable pain rose in his mind, not originating from his strokes.
"Stop it" he repeated and he tore his fingernails into his skin.
In a manical craze he drove his fingers deep into his flesh as he ripped his face asunder.
Blood filled his eyes and blinded his sight on the pattern, physical pain numbed down the excruciating noise and enabled him to think clearly once more.
His frenzy faded as the effects of the morphogenic engine waned.
One torment replaced by the other he fainted, escaping his agony into unconsciousness.
Walker stared through the inked glass at his interrogators. Imbeciles, all of them.
Merely recognizing their silhouettes he gloated at their pathetic attempts of examination.
"Mr. Walker, could you explain what traumas led you to cause your excessive self-harm?", a voice sounded through the speakers.
Even though his face was painfully twisted into a permanent grin he managed to smirk even more.
"Dr. Walsh", he sneered through his teeth, "Insanity is a matter of perspective and I know I'm not the lunatic here."
Shooting out Sketches for practice with a story around Chris Walker from Outlast which I made up.