Speedtrayal
Chapter 6

Copyright© 2014 by Bastion Grammar Jr

There was a horrible taste in my mouth. It tasted like ass. Okay, I've never actually had ass so I don't know what it tastes like but this tasted like I imagined ass would taste like. It felt like my tongue was furry, too. I don't remember my tongue having hair ... but it sure felt like it did now.

I opened my eyes and immediately regretted it. The room was spinning and not in a good way. I closed them back and quickly decided, as my stomach took a large, unscheduled trip to the left, that I was never going to open my eyes again. It was a plan.

I remember hearing something about plans and mice one time...

"Well, it would appear our young friend has decided to join the land of the living," said ... someone. Only, it took me a second to translate it because of the thick accent. He made it sound like 'Vell, et vood appear our yung frent has decided to choin ze lant of de livink'. Think evil, mad scientist voice in any movie ever and you'd be coming close.

Which didn't make me feel much better when I finally got around to actually opening my eyes and waiting for the room to stop spinning because I was actually in a scientific laboratory and the man looked like a scientist. Still, he didn't look menacing ... but I was willing to fake it for the purposes of argument.

"Do not try to get up, Mr. Cavenaugh," the old man said gently. He appeared tall but that could have been because he was so thin. He had a full head of short cropped hair, most of it black with some gray sprinkled within. His face was kindly, perhaps even grandfatherly in a long, wrinkled way. His eyes were a piercing blue made to look bigger by some rather thick glasses. He was clean shaven with a long, pudgy nose and eyebrows that would have to be plucked to look merely bushy.

If my stomach was any indication, he didn't need to worry about me getting up any time soon. It felt like someone was inside of me, wringing my stomach like a freaking towel ... and then throwing it against my ribs every now and then to make sure it was dry. I'd had the stomach flu before ... I'd like to have it again if it means I never have to feel like this again.

I tried to work up some spit to swallow it down my dry throat but my mouth didn't want to cooperate. "Thirsty," I croaked.

"Not just yet, I think," the man replied. "We must first make sure the anesthetic is completely out of your system. When you are strong enough to stand, I will get you some water."

I didn't try to argue with him. I couldn't. I didn't have the strength for it. It felt like my body was made of noodles; I didn't have the strength to lift my arms.

"Who ... you?" I croaked the question. Yes, I'd meant to say 'who are you' but, seriously, I was lucky to get any words out whatsoever. It felt like one side of my throat was made of sandpaper and every movement caused it to grind against the opposite side.

"I am Dr. Lukas Braun," the man said with a smile. "You have heard of me, yes?"

The truth was I actually had heard that name somewhere but I couldn't for the life of me figure out where. I tried racking my brain but there wasn't much left to work with and it just gave me a headache. Or maybe it just made me notice the headache. Something like that. It seemed nothing wanted to work.

"I can see that you do not remember, eh bekannte?" the man smiled at me. "Well, no matter. I am a physicist, yes? I have heard some very fascinating stories about you. I think we are going to be good friends as we try to figure out how you do what you do, eh?"

That must have turned the gray matter In my head just enough. Dr. Lukas Braun. Father John had mentioned him. He was ... affiliated with ... with the church. That couldn't be right. The church doesn't kidnap people. The doctor must have heard of me through the church and decided to kidnap me to ... to ... to study me.

FUCK FUCK FUCKITY FUCK FUCK! All of my worst fears had come true. I was a laboratory rat. I was going to be ... oh God ... I was...

I was in no condition to stand. I could barely lift my arms. Still, adrenalin is a powerful thing. I somehow managed to roll onto my stomach, then push on my hands until I was on all fours. I fell back but I wasn't going to be denied. I made it to my knees and then grabbed one of the bars and levered myself up.

Bars? I looked around. Shit. I was in a huge cage with prison-thick steel bars.

The doctor was examining some monitors in front of him. "Nebennieren-Reaktion ist normal." He looked over at me. "So. I made you a promise, yes?" He stood up and poured water into a glass from a pitcher sitting on a cart nearby. He knelt down and flipped open a tiny panel in the bottom corner of the cage and set the glass of water on the floor inside. "See? I am as good as my word."

I stumbled forward, falling to my knees in front of the glass of water. I'm not sure where I found the strength but I managed to coerce my fingers into wrapping around the cool glass and lift it. I was bringing it to my lips when I stopped and glanced between Dr. Braun and the glass in front of me.

"Ah, so mistrustful, yes?" He walked back and poured another glass, draining it. "See? Is just water."

He didn't finish speaking before I had drained the glass. It felt cool and wet and wonderful on my throat ... but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough. I felt like I could drain a lake.

"More?" I asked the man pleadingly. Yes, it was pathetic to beg for water. I didn't care. I couldn't think how things could get any worse at this point. Which probably goes to show you just how naïve I am.

"Not just now, my friend," he said with a small smile. "I want to be sure that your system can handle that much water first. My Leoni says that your system has been put through a tremendous strain. Let's see if you can keep that water down before we give you more."

I looked around the room. It was painted a dingy white and the floor outside the cage was tiled in dirty white tiles. There was a bank of maybe five monitors on the long table Dr. Braun was seated behind. Against the far wall was a table filled with beakers and test tubes, some bubbling. Next to them were some lit cabinets with glass doors. It looked like petri dishes with substances of various colors were inside. The wall behind me was clear except for a small, white, analog clock sitting on the wall above a steel door with a small wired window. The wall on my left was filled with what I could only guess were refrigeration units, a long stainless steel cart sitting in front.

 
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