“Who are you?” I mumble, still half asleep.
“Good morning, sunshine!”
My blood runs cold at the cloying tone of this masculine voice. I repeat the same question, but my voice is laced with more fear this time and comes out on a whimper.
“I am Doctor Graves.” He answers proudly.
“Fitting,” I retort bitterly.
He chortles before pulling a vial and syringe from his coat pocket.
“W-what is that?” I ask nervously.
“This,” He says with a twirl of the vial, “is a special serum I’ve concocted to help our intakesadjust.”
Intakes? Adjust? How many fucking people do they do this shit to? “No! Please,” I beg. “I’ll do whatever you ask, just please don’t drug me.”
He tsks as he draws the syringe up with the unknown substance. “No can do, dear.”
I go wild as he moves closer to me with a needle that looks like it came straight from Hell. I scream and thrash. I snap forward and try to bite him, but I fail. He laughs wickedly at my poor attempt. “FUCK YOU!!” I scream, but it comes out much quieter than anticipated.
“Oh, I plan to.”
Everything in my body locks up, and I’m frozen in time. This cannot be real. Is this some fucked up nightmare? My stomach sours like curdled milk and turns heavy as lead. Tears run down my cheeks at the sudden onslaught of emotions that barreled in like a freight train. I try taking slow, deep breaths, but the only thing I’m accomplishing is hyperventilating.
“Big pinch,” he says before plunging the needle into the side of my neck. I hiss in pain, the poison burning like venom, making my shoulders lock up, scrunched to my ears.
“Sit back.” He demands as he shoves me back on the bed by my shoulder. He proceeds to unlock the wheels, walking around the bed to unlock the other side.
“What are you doing?” I ask and swipe away the tears that have collected at the base of my cheeks with my shoulders.
“Your room, of course.”
Doctor Graves rolls me down a curving hallway that’s slanted like a ramp. The air is stale and pungent. Defecation and death mixed with a musty old person’s house. Every now and then, I hear whimpers and groans from a distance. It’s unnerving to say the least. All the ancient paintings stare at me as if they’re warning me of what lurks ahead. Yeah, paintings. I’d run if I could.
The horrid smell intensifies the further down we go. The hall opens up to a large jail-like area. Small inmate cells line either side of the wall. Men and women lay limp on the concrete floor in their individual cells. Some are clinging to the metal bars, staring at me with psycho grins. One woman’s pupils are blown so wide, I can’t even see what her eye color is. She stares at me lifelessly from behind the bars. I don’t know what world she’s in, but it ain’t this one, and I think I wanna go there too—anything to escape this reality.
“So, you’re taking me to a cage?” I ask dreadfully. My chest caves with each exhale as my hands tremble beneath the heavy chains.
“You’re aspecialguest. So, you get something a littlemore…” He trails off as we turn to a dark corridor, only lit by small sconces. The shadows envelope us, eating us whole as Doctor Graves rolls me further down to Hell. Graves halts to a stop at the very end of the hall in front of a solid black door.
“Ah, here you are.” He says, smiling with all his crooked, yellow teeth on display. “Your chamber.”
He digs in his coat pocket, retrieving a small key. He leans over, unlocking my ankle cuffs first, before locking my ankles together so I can only take small steps. He moves up to do my wrists next.
“Don’t try anything stupid, girl. I have a sedative strong enough to tranquilize a horse, don’t make me use it.” He threatens, and by the seriousness of his face, I believe him. But at the same time, he looks like he wants to have to use it.
For an old man, he’s very strong. He pins my right hand to the mattress while he works on freeing my left hand, then he locks them together like he did my ankles. He grabs my bicep and pulls me up to stand. The room is spinning around me from the abrupt change in position. I feel all the blood drain from my head, and I lose balance, falling to my knees.
“Damn it, get up! I haven’t got all day.” Graves snaps. I peer up at him, finding his face beet red.
“My bad, damn.” I retort, gripping my knees to keep myself from digging the old bastard’s eyes out. The longer I’m in his presence, the more I hate him.
I have no time to pull myself to stand before he rears back and slaps me across the face. A strangled gasp leaves my gaping mouth, and I cup my flaming cheek with my hand.
“You’d better learn to control that mouth of yours.” He growls. “But I suppose if you don’t willingly, they’ll beat the sense into it.”
I gulp loudly and quickly scramble to my feet, not bothering to cover my bare ass with this stiff and scratchy hospital gown. Graves shoves me into the pitch-black room, where I collapse back onto my beaten and bruised knees. He swiftly clicks the door locked from the other side. I curl my knees into my chest and fist my hair, pulling until I feel the strands break loose from my scalp. Revelling in the physical pain that tells me I’m unfortunately still alive.
