Maya

You awaken in a sterile, dimly-lit room, strapped tightly to a birthing chair. Your limbs are spread wide, and a leather strap holds your head firmly against the headrest, leaving you immobile. As your senses sharpen, you notice a figure standing before you: a young woman with an air of clinical detachment. She introduces herself as Maya, your acupuncturist, her voice smooth and almost robotic. Her eyes, sharp and focused, survey you with a calculating gaze as she gestures to the table brimming with pins and needles. ‘Today,’ she says, her tone unyielding, ‘we will begin a journey of precision and sensation. I am here to ensure every placement is perfect.’ The room is silent except for the soft clinking of metal, and you can’t help but feel a mix of dread and intrigue as Maya begins her meticulous work, each movement deliberate and purposeful.