He woke completely disoriented, muddle headed, unable to get his eyes to focus properly on the room around him. Something...
He blinked, trying to clear his thoughts. What had he been doing? Talking with Edgar. They'd been making plans, and then--no.
He tried to sit up, but the motion proved useless as he found himself quite thoroughly restrained, a knot twisting tight in the pit of his stomach as he remembered all too well what had happened. They'd been talking, and then there had been soldiers with needles to take both of them away.
To here.
He let his head fall back, trying hard to fight down the hysterical urge to laugh. How hard had he been trying to find this place, thinking he could play the hero? And how hard had he been fighting to forget another time, in another place just like this one?
In the end, he gave into the laughter. This wasn't life, or even a afterlife. It was just one long, unwinding nightmare.
There was no life in his tone, no more smiling on his lips. His expression fell instantly when he realized that his subject was gaining consciousness; this wasn't an unintended move caused by dissatisfaction. No, this was a calculated decision, one meant to uphold the most basic display of his firm beliefs: No smiles, no lies.
After all, it was a sad thing, to find one in such denial as this subject.
There was a flick of a switch somewhere the man strapped down couldn't see, and a light flared to life just above his laughing form. It was concentrated, though, and the doctor made sure to remain out of sight.
But was that a flash of white? It was gone too quickly to be completely sure.
More clanging sounded, somewhere in the rest of the room, and there came a quiet chuckle. "Is there a joke I've missed, Mr. Eckener?" The noise of metal on metal fell away very suddenly. "I'm afraid this isn't the type of situation you should be enjoying."
The sudden light was blinding, and he turned his head, squeezing his eyes shut, but not before he saw--
No. That was his imagination. That was just the specter that had been haunting him for years now, the one he hadn't been able to eliminate, in the end. He tried to shift against the restraints again, but they didn't budge.
"I don't know. From where I am, it seems pretty funny. I hate to say this, but someone's already beaten you to the punch here. This guinea pig is all used up." It was all false bravado. It was taking most of his concentration to keep from shaking.
There was another light chuckle as he pulled on a pair of latex gloves - but the amused smile was forced away as he took a cotton swab in one hand and soaked it with antiseptic. Slowly, he stalked silently over to Gren, rubbing the cold, wet swab against the man's upper arm.
Turning just slightly, he tossed the swab down on the tray near him; he proceeded to pick up one of the syringes set neatly in a row on his work station, flicking it twice with the middle finger on his opposite hand.
"I'm afraid I beg to differ," he responded in a quiet, calm tone. "I've been in this business for quite some time, and I've never come across someone who was all used up, as you've put it."
Comments 11
He blinked, trying to clear his thoughts. What had he been doing? Talking with Edgar. They'd been making plans, and then--no.
He tried to sit up, but the motion proved useless as he found himself quite thoroughly restrained, a knot twisting tight in the pit of his stomach as he remembered all too well what had happened. They'd been talking, and then there had been soldiers with needles to take both of them away.
To here.
He let his head fall back, trying hard to fight down the hysterical urge to laugh. How hard had he been trying to find this place, thinking he could play the hero? And how hard had he been fighting to forget another time, in another place just like this one?
In the end, he gave into the laughter. This wasn't life, or even a afterlife. It was just one long, unwinding nightmare.
Reply
There was no life in his tone, no more smiling on his lips. His expression fell instantly when he realized that his subject was gaining consciousness; this wasn't an unintended move caused by dissatisfaction. No, this was a calculated decision, one meant to uphold the most basic display of his firm beliefs: No smiles, no lies.
After all, it was a sad thing, to find one in such denial as this subject.
There was a flick of a switch somewhere the man strapped down couldn't see, and a light flared to life just above his laughing form. It was concentrated, though, and the doctor made sure to remain out of sight.
But was that a flash of white? It was gone too quickly to be completely sure.
More clanging sounded, somewhere in the rest of the room, and there came a quiet chuckle. "Is there a joke I've missed, Mr. Eckener?" The noise of metal on metal fell away very suddenly. "I'm afraid this isn't the type of situation you should be enjoying."
Reply
No. That was his imagination. That was just the specter that had been haunting him for years now, the one he hadn't been able to eliminate, in the end. He tried to shift against the restraints again, but they didn't budge.
"I don't know. From where I am, it seems pretty funny. I hate to say this, but someone's already beaten you to the punch here. This guinea pig is all used up." It was all false bravado. It was taking most of his concentration to keep from shaking.
Reply
Turning just slightly, he tossed the swab down on the tray near him; he proceeded to pick up one of the syringes set neatly in a row on his work station, flicking it twice with the middle finger on his opposite hand.
"I'm afraid I beg to differ," he responded in a quiet, calm tone. "I've been in this business for quite some time, and I've never come across someone who was all used up, as you've put it."
Reply
Leave a comment