Ah, so the subject was awake now, and none too shy with the accusations. Hearing Klavier say such naive things only hit home how little he understood his current position. Really, did he believe he was so much more elevated than everyone else that they'd suddenly drop all their tools and release him? They'd done no such thing for all those who had come before him, after all.
Clearly the patient would need further proof for him to understand just who was in charge here. But that would come soon enough. The doctor smiled to himself and shook his head as he put on a pair of gloves.
"Those are tall orders coming from someone strapped to an operating table," he casually observed. The doctor didn't yet turn to face him, as that moment would mark the true beginning of this experiment. He also wanted to make certain the drugs they'd given him beforehand had ample time to circulate through his body.
Instead, he lifted an electric razor from his tray of tools and flipped the switch on its side. The resulting buzzing sound echoed through the sterile room, a small prelude of what was soon to come.
Klavier narrowed his eyes, immediately bothered by the response. The words, the voice, or the tone. Something about it nagged at him, but he couldn't pinpoint what. Possibly just the condescending nature of his words, the careless disregard for what Klavier considered a very generous warning. Despite how this was looking, Klavier was trying with everything he had to keep his panic and annoyance in check, to keep a clear mind so he could think of something. There must be some kind of way out of here. He just needed to stay calm. Focus. Think. But it was easy to act brave when nothing was happening to him yet.
There was a subtle click followed by a very distinct sound. Whirring. Buzzing. With how quiet the room had been only a moment ago, it seemed nearly deafening to him. But that sound... that sound made his blood freeze immediately. It made him instantly think of autopsies. In school, he'd had to take a class which had them watch videos of some. He definitely recognized that kind of sound. It made him think of oscillating saws and electric shears.
It was probably a good thing the man hadn't turned around. Because in that moment, heaven help him, Klavier could feel the defiance in his face promptly drop, making way for an expression of absolute terror. A cold sensation went down his back (was he sweating?) and he froze for what felt like far too long. No. This was really happening. They were really going to do something to him. What? Were they just going to kill him? Or would he suffer the route of experimentation like Skye, Edgeworth, and countless others? By the sound of things, he was likely getting something worse than a needle in the eye.
He was suddenly aware of the distinct pounding of his heart pumping in his ears. Klavier swallowed and tried to keep his breathing under control. He pulled on the restraints at his wrists as hard as possible, ignoring the pain in his left hand and shoulder. Reopening old wounds seemed like a great alternative to being left here. But the man wasn't looking. Perhaps he couldn't tell how bad an effect that sound had had on Klavier. So he grit his teeth, trying so hard to bite down on the growing fear and hide any hint of a tremor from his voice.
"Think about what you're doing. You're a doctor. You can't possibly want to spend your life hurting people like this." For the love of all that was good, he certainly hoped he sounded as reasonable as he was imagining. "It isn't too late to stop this. If you let me go now, you won't be held liable for anything. But if you kill me... I promise there will be an entire department in L.A. who will not rest until you are behind bars."
This wasn't the first time he'd heard those words, and the doctor doubted it would be the last. There was no need to pay attention, though. It just demonstrated how short-sighted these test subjects truly were. They never seemed to understand that their work involved producing real, tangible results that other, "moral" doctors couldn't imagine in their wildest dreams.
"Kill you?" he spoke over the razor's buzzing, and there was a tinge of incredulity in his tone. That would be a waste of time and resources. Mr. Gavin was speaking as though he simply enjoyed smashing patients, like a child might enjoy crushing ants beneath his shoe. How narrow-minded.
Of course, that wasn't to say he didn't enjoy breaking his patients a little when the opportunity arose.
With all of his tools in proper order, the doctor turned around now, his gaze settling onto the man on the table. Although he didn't show it, he was anxious to see the prosecutor's reaction.
"Believe me," he continued as he drew closer to the table, "I have no intention of outright killing you, Klavier."
Despite trying to sound reasonable, Klavier had been pulling and twisting against the wrist restraints the entire time he spoke, hoping he could figure out some way to slip through or undo them. But once the doctor finally turned around and approached, he stopped pulling. He stopped breathing. He stopped everything. Any fragments of anger and fear in his system evaporated in that instant and all he could do was simply stare at the doctor. Only, this wasn't a "doctor." It was...
"K... Kris?!" He wasn't even bothering to hide the incredulity in his voice and face, leaving him gawking openly like an idiot. He couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. It couldn't be. It was impossible. "What are you doing here? How did you...?"
It was only when he tried to shake his head and sit up that he remembered he was still strapped to a table. That he remembered where he was and why. It was enough to effectively snuff out what relief he might have felt at seeing his brother alive and well again. If Kristoph was being held by the institute, why was he here? And why was he not rushing to let Klavier out of his bonds?
That thought was enough to finally get his mind going again and make him register what it was Kristoph had just said. His eyes glanced momentarily at the electric razor (not a saw, apparently) in his brother's hand before looking back up to meet his eyes. His expression was nothing but confusion, but now he was frowning, giving Kristoph a look that very clearly said, What the hell?
"Kristoph... What is going on?" Klavier didn't want to acknowledge the twisting in his stomach. He didn't want to admit there was a sense of dread building behind all this. Why was Kristoph not letting him up? Why was he just looking at him like that? Kris...
Upon taking note of the sheer shock on Mr. Gavin's face, the doctor could scarcely mask his satisfaction. The injection had done wonders to make their subject see exactly what they wanted him to see. It wasn't very often he had the opportunity to assume a role outside of doctor and tormentor, but this change of pace would certainly be a refreshing one. Suddenly, this had gone beyond merely dragging Gavin up here in order to be cut into and observed. Not even his meaningless threats of charges and jail time would be enough to hide the anguish he would undoubtedly be feeling soon. No, this was personal now.
Which meant, in terms of their little experiment, things were about to become much, much more interesting.
"I think you already know the answer to those questions," he said as he stood next to the bed now, beside the prosecutor's head. "The evidence should speak for itself quite plainly, don't you agree?" Sighing, he brought the razor closer to Gavin's head of blond hair, using the other hand to grip onto his scalp in order to better hold him into place.
"Really, I didn't want to have to do this, Klavier," the doctor added with some measure of regret in his voice. "But you've left me no choice. Now, hold still."
With that, he gently brought the razor down and began shaving a small spot on the side of his head.
Unfortunately, he was right. The situation spoke pretty plainly for itself. Klavier had already drawn his conclusions about the situation before he'd even seen who he was sharing a room with, hadn't he? So shouldn't it have been obvious what was going on? But... Klavier simply couldn't accept it! Even readily rejected it! Because it didn't make sense. It was all wrong, wrong, wrong! There was something else going on! There had to be!
Because there was no way that Kristoph, with Klavier in the position he was in, should be talking to him so casually like this. Like this was so normal. Something done regularly and was stagnant by now. It was the same level tone he used while trying to work. Even the way he ordered Klavier to hold still carried an almost familiar, parental sort of tone to it. The usual "don't squirm around" command any child would get.
However, it was when those words were uttered that he became even more aware of the buzzing of the instrument in Kristoph's hand. If that noise had seemed startlingly loud before, it was even more so now that it was right next to him. And getting closer.
"Wh-- HEY!" he yelled, trying instinctively to move his head away, but to no avail. There was surprise in his tone at first, but it quickly turned to unfathomable outrage. He yelped out a noise that could have either bee a yell of protest or an almost effeminate squeal of horror depending on the perspective. "Are you out of your mind?! What are you doing?!"
That question was, of course, mostly rhetorical. He could very much feel what he was doing. There was a small press of pressure against one part of his head, and he could feel the slight vibration of the razor against his skull as it moved across the area. Unable to do anything else to stop it, Klavier squinted his eyes, still trying to pull away.
This was completely ridiculous!! Never once in his life had Klavier or his brother ever gotten their heads shaven. They prided themselves on their appearance and their hair. So the idea of Kristoph shaving his hair off was pretty much the straw that sent this entire thing into the realm of complete insanity.
"What do you mean 'no choice'?! What are you talking about?! I didn't do anything!!" he yelled over the obscenely loud sound of the razor, rambling more like a five-year-old than a hospital patient. To be perfectly honest, as juvenile as that sounded, he was pretty terrified Kristoph was about to shave him bald.
Oh dear. Mr. Gavin was already throwing a fit, and they hadn't even begun making any incisions yet. Under normal circumstances, this would be quite problematic, as it could interfere with the doctor's concentration. But in this case, such a reaction was exactly what he wanted to observe from his subject. The more panicked he became now, the easier it would be to manipulate him into doing what they wanted later.
That was why there would be no anesthesia for this procedure, but Mr. Gavin didn't need to know that just yet, of course.
"Really, Klavier," he said with a long-suffering tone, "the more you shout and carry on like that, the harder this will be for the both of us."
As he moved the razor across his scalp, several locks of Gavin's long, blond hair fell to the floor. Thankfully for him, though, the doctor had no intention of shaving him bald. No, he just needed enough gone for the next part of the procedure. Once he was satisfied with his work, the doctor switched the razor off and examined the bald area.
"At any rate, this isn't a matter of what you've done," the doctor continued. Giving his "brother" a smile, he turned toward his tray of tools and wheeled it closer to Gavin's head. "This is simply insurance for the future. One can't be too careful, after all."
The harder it would be for "both of them?!" He had to be kidding! Last Klavier checked, he was the one strapped down against his will here! And Kristoph? Did he sound distressed in any way, shape, or form? That was the most disturbing thing about all this. Had Kristoph thrown back his head and given a mad scientist's maniacal laugh or rambled morbid rhetoric in a manner more suited for horror film theatrics, Klavier would have quickly chalked this up to another horrible bout of brainwashing. Though it wouldn't help his situation at all, it would somewhat be a relief to see his brother act so out of character. That way, he could tell himself, at least mentally, this was someone else.
But it wasn't. Kristoph had been addressing him by name the entire time. He spoke fully aware of who Klavier was. Fully aware of his own actions even as he stood there shaving his brother's hair off. And despite all that, his words were as calm and normal as ever. He even sounded like he was scolding Klavier for being so over-dramatically troublesome. That tone of voice was almost enough to make him feel ashamed of his behavior. Almost. Because given the situation, Klavier felt plenty justified in his reaction.
The buzz of the razor clicked off and something like a cold shudder went up Klavier's body, a mix of relief and fear. There was a part of his head (which felt way too large, by the way) which was noticeably colder, more sensitive. Bald. This was such a horribly foreign feeling, and a sensation like shame washed over him. He had no idea how much had been shaved off, really, or what he looked like right then, but despite everything, his immediate thoughts were he had to cover it. He almost felt naked. It hurt just thinking about it. That might as well be chunks of his soul on the floor with the effect it was having on him. And unfortunately, it seemed this wasn't over yet.
When his brother spoke again, Klavier turned his eyes to him in time to see... a smile. He was smiling? Not even a horrible smile at that... which was what made it more especially horrible in this case. Any lingering doubts he'd had dropped in that instant. Kristoph really didn't care about what he was doing to him. Maybe he was even... enjoying it. There was a knot in his stomach that was twisted so tight by the idea, he thought he might get sick right there. What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?
But wasn't that always the eternal unanswered question when it came to his brother? The why?
Perhaps a more important question to be pondering at the moment was the "what?" Especially with Kristoph wheeling over a tray of fresh instruments, none of which he could make out from his limited vantage point. He could make some pretty morbid guesses, though. He needed to think. He needed to speak. But frankly, his mind was absolutely everywhere at the moment. It seemed impossible to focus on only one thing.
"I-Insurance?" His voice was far shakier than he had assumed it would be. Surprisingly, not so much from fear. He was simply that upset. His throat was so tight, it was astonishing he was even speaking as well as he was. This all sounded like some kind of horrible joke. But despite that he was trying to regain some sense of composure, even if only weakly. "I left you 'no choice'... but to do something like this... for insurance? You must be mad if you think I'd believe that. This does nothing to help you. You're just..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't voice out loud that Kris was just... doing this for fun.
His words had unnerved the test subject. That wasn't so unexpected, but it was also a good sign. The doctor kept his expression pleasant and mild-mannered as he picked up a swab and unwrapped it. They needed to make certain he was properly cleaned down before beginning the procedure, after all. As much as they wanted to break Klavier, giving him an infection wasn't on their agenda.
"And you, Klavier, must be mad if you think I don't know you'd turn on me in the future," he spoke in an even tone. "You cannot deny there are some things that outweigh your loyalty to even your own brother."
Rubbing the cool swab over the bald spot now, he made sure to do a thorough job in scrubbing him down. "I simply cannot take any chances. Really, this is better for both of us in the end."
Once he thought the subject was properly sanitized, the doctor threw the swab into a bin next to the operating table.
Clearly the patient would need further proof for him to understand just who was in charge here. But that would come soon enough. The doctor smiled to himself and shook his head as he put on a pair of gloves.
"Those are tall orders coming from someone strapped to an operating table," he casually observed. The doctor didn't yet turn to face him, as that moment would mark the true beginning of this experiment. He also wanted to make certain the drugs they'd given him beforehand had ample time to circulate through his body.
Instead, he lifted an electric razor from his tray of tools and flipped the switch on its side. The resulting buzzing sound echoed through the sterile room, a small prelude of what was soon to come.
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There was a subtle click followed by a very distinct sound. Whirring. Buzzing. With how quiet the room had been only a moment ago, it seemed nearly deafening to him. But that sound... that sound made his blood freeze immediately. It made him instantly think of autopsies. In school, he'd had to take a class which had them watch videos of some. He definitely recognized that kind of sound. It made him think of oscillating saws and electric shears.
It was probably a good thing the man hadn't turned around. Because in that moment, heaven help him, Klavier could feel the defiance in his face promptly drop, making way for an expression of absolute terror. A cold sensation went down his back (was he sweating?) and he froze for what felt like far too long. No. This was really happening. They were really going to do something to him. What? Were they just going to kill him? Or would he suffer the route of experimentation like Skye, Edgeworth, and countless others? By the sound of things, he was likely getting something worse than a needle in the eye.
He was suddenly aware of the distinct pounding of his heart pumping in his ears. Klavier swallowed and tried to keep his breathing under control. He pulled on the restraints at his wrists as hard as possible, ignoring the pain in his left hand and shoulder. Reopening old wounds seemed like a great alternative to being left here. But the man wasn't looking. Perhaps he couldn't tell how bad an effect that sound had had on Klavier. So he grit his teeth, trying so hard to bite down on the growing fear and hide any hint of a tremor from his voice.
"Think about what you're doing. You're a doctor. You can't possibly want to spend your life hurting people like this." For the love of all that was good, he certainly hoped he sounded as reasonable as he was imagining. "It isn't too late to stop this. If you let me go now, you won't be held liable for anything. But if you kill me... I promise there will be an entire department in L.A. who will not rest until you are behind bars."
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"Kill you?" he spoke over the razor's buzzing, and there was a tinge of incredulity in his tone. That would be a waste of time and resources. Mr. Gavin was speaking as though he simply enjoyed smashing patients, like a child might enjoy crushing ants beneath his shoe. How narrow-minded.
Of course, that wasn't to say he didn't enjoy breaking his patients a little when the opportunity arose.
With all of his tools in proper order, the doctor turned around now, his gaze settling onto the man on the table. Although he didn't show it, he was anxious to see the prosecutor's reaction.
"Believe me," he continued as he drew closer to the table, "I have no intention of outright killing you, Klavier."
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"K... Kris?!" He wasn't even bothering to hide the incredulity in his voice and face, leaving him gawking openly like an idiot. He couldn't bring himself to care at the moment. It couldn't be. It was impossible. "What are you doing here? How did you...?"
It was only when he tried to shake his head and sit up that he remembered he was still strapped to a table. That he remembered where he was and why. It was enough to effectively snuff out what relief he might have felt at seeing his brother alive and well again. If Kristoph was being held by the institute, why was he here? And why was he not rushing to let Klavier out of his bonds?
That thought was enough to finally get his mind going again and make him register what it was Kristoph had just said. His eyes glanced momentarily at the electric razor (not a saw, apparently) in his brother's hand before looking back up to meet his eyes. His expression was nothing but confusion, but now he was frowning, giving Kristoph a look that very clearly said, What the hell?
"Kristoph... What is going on?" Klavier didn't want to acknowledge the twisting in his stomach. He didn't want to admit there was a sense of dread building behind all this. Why was Kristoph not letting him up? Why was he just looking at him like that? Kris...
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Which meant, in terms of their little experiment, things were about to become much, much more interesting.
"I think you already know the answer to those questions," he said as he stood next to the bed now, beside the prosecutor's head. "The evidence should speak for itself quite plainly, don't you agree?" Sighing, he brought the razor closer to Gavin's head of blond hair, using the other hand to grip onto his scalp in order to better hold him into place.
"Really, I didn't want to have to do this, Klavier," the doctor added with some measure of regret in his voice. "But you've left me no choice. Now, hold still."
With that, he gently brought the razor down and began shaving a small spot on the side of his head.
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Because there was no way that Kristoph, with Klavier in the position he was in, should be talking to him so casually like this. Like this was so normal. Something done regularly and was stagnant by now. It was the same level tone he used while trying to work. Even the way he ordered Klavier to hold still carried an almost familiar, parental sort of tone to it. The usual "don't squirm around" command any child would get.
However, it was when those words were uttered that he became even more aware of the buzzing of the instrument in Kristoph's hand. If that noise had seemed startlingly loud before, it was even more so now that it was right next to him. And getting closer.
"Wh-- HEY!" he yelled, trying instinctively to move his head away, but to no avail. There was surprise in his tone at first, but it quickly turned to unfathomable outrage. He yelped out a noise that could have either bee a yell of protest or an almost effeminate squeal of horror depending on the perspective. "Are you out of your mind?! What are you doing?!"
That question was, of course, mostly rhetorical. He could very much feel what he was doing. There was a small press of pressure against one part of his head, and he could feel the slight vibration of the razor against his skull as it moved across the area. Unable to do anything else to stop it, Klavier squinted his eyes, still trying to pull away.
This was completely ridiculous!! Never once in his life had Klavier or his brother ever gotten their heads shaven. They prided themselves on their appearance and their hair. So the idea of Kristoph shaving his hair off was pretty much the straw that sent this entire thing into the realm of complete insanity.
"What do you mean 'no choice'?! What are you talking about?! I didn't do anything!!" he yelled over the obscenely loud sound of the razor, rambling more like a five-year-old than a hospital patient. To be perfectly honest, as juvenile as that sounded, he was pretty terrified Kristoph was about to shave him bald.
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That was why there would be no anesthesia for this procedure, but Mr. Gavin didn't need to know that just yet, of course.
"Really, Klavier," he said with a long-suffering tone, "the more you shout and carry on like that, the harder this will be for the both of us."
As he moved the razor across his scalp, several locks of Gavin's long, blond hair fell to the floor. Thankfully for him, though, the doctor had no intention of shaving him bald. No, he just needed enough gone for the next part of the procedure. Once he was satisfied with his work, the doctor switched the razor off and examined the bald area.
"At any rate, this isn't a matter of what you've done," the doctor continued. Giving his "brother" a smile, he turned toward his tray of tools and wheeled it closer to Gavin's head. "This is simply insurance for the future. One can't be too careful, after all."
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But it wasn't. Kristoph had been addressing him by name the entire time. He spoke fully aware of who Klavier was. Fully aware of his own actions even as he stood there shaving his brother's hair off. And despite all that, his words were as calm and normal as ever. He even sounded like he was scolding Klavier for being so over-dramatically troublesome. That tone of voice was almost enough to make him feel ashamed of his behavior. Almost. Because given the situation, Klavier felt plenty justified in his reaction.
The buzz of the razor clicked off and something like a cold shudder went up Klavier's body, a mix of relief and fear. There was a part of his head (which felt way too large, by the way) which was noticeably colder, more sensitive. Bald. This was such a horribly foreign feeling, and a sensation like shame washed over him. He had no idea how much had been shaved off, really, or what he looked like right then, but despite everything, his immediate thoughts were he had to cover it. He almost felt naked. It hurt just thinking about it. That might as well be chunks of his soul on the floor with the effect it was having on him. And unfortunately, it seemed this wasn't over yet.
When his brother spoke again, Klavier turned his eyes to him in time to see... a smile. He was smiling? Not even a horrible smile at that... which was what made it more especially horrible in this case. Any lingering doubts he'd had dropped in that instant. Kristoph really didn't care about what he was doing to him. Maybe he was even... enjoying it. There was a knot in his stomach that was twisted so tight by the idea, he thought he might get sick right there. What is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?
But wasn't that always the eternal unanswered question when it came to his brother? The why?
Perhaps a more important question to be pondering at the moment was the "what?" Especially with Kristoph wheeling over a tray of fresh instruments, none of which he could make out from his limited vantage point. He could make some pretty morbid guesses, though. He needed to think. He needed to speak. But frankly, his mind was absolutely everywhere at the moment. It seemed impossible to focus on only one thing.
"I-Insurance?" His voice was far shakier than he had assumed it would be. Surprisingly, not so much from fear. He was simply that upset. His throat was so tight, it was astonishing he was even speaking as well as he was. This all sounded like some kind of horrible joke. But despite that he was trying to regain some sense of composure, even if only weakly. "I left you 'no choice'... but to do something like this... for insurance? You must be mad if you think I'd believe that. This does nothing to help you. You're just..." He couldn't say it. He couldn't voice out loud that Kris was just... doing this for fun.
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"And you, Klavier, must be mad if you think I don't know you'd turn on me in the future," he spoke in an even tone. "You cannot deny there are some things that outweigh your loyalty to even your own brother."
Rubbing the cool swab over the bald spot now, he made sure to do a thorough job in scrubbing him down. "I simply cannot take any chances. Really, this is better for both of us in the end."
Once he thought the subject was properly sanitized, the doctor threw the swab into a bin next to the operating table.
"Surely you must understand..."
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