This guy is creepy. He doesn’t even look human. His face is completely pale, he has a strange triangular hat on his head, and his mouth is shaped similar to what I imagine the Joker’s is from Batman, but no red lipstick or face paint to accentuate it.
He wears the black robe and pants uniform, similar to Degory’s, with a white long sleeve jacket over the top. The sleeves and symbol on the back are different on Captain King’s jacket, compared to Degory’s. He, also, wears a strange purple scarf around his neck.
I don’t want to follow him, but I have no choice. I step down from the platform with shaky legs and follow him as quickly as I can. We exit the room, walk down the long hallway, and turn onto another corridor. We travel several feet before the Captain opens a door. He enters and I follow, the woman trailing behind us.
This room isn’t as tall as where my cot is situated, but there’s a lot of equipment in this one that makes it seem cluttered. I don’t even know what all of them do. I’m starting to get scared again.
He meanders towards the back of the room and I follow. We stop near the back of the room near a contraption that looks similar to a medieval torture device I remember studying in my history class last semester. I think it’s called ‘the rack’.
He stops at the foot of the device, and turns to me. He has a strange grin on his face that makes my stomach do flip-flops. This is not going to be good. Dread continues to rise up from my stomach like bile.
“I have tweaked this device to test one’s spirit power,” he says to me. “I haven’t had a chance to test it yet, and I believe you will be the perfect candidate.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed.
“Lieutenant Natalie, get her ready,” he orders the woman behind me.
“Yes, sir,” she bows.
The tone of her voice makes her sound similar to a robot, but she looks human from where I stand. It’s a strange contrast to her tone.
She grabs my torso and lifts me above her head as if I were a baby. It’s easier for her than it is for baldy, which is frightening. I’m not looking forward to being reborn in Eden when I die now, but it’s nothing compared to what I face here and now.
She carries me to the table and sets me down. I try to get off, but she keeps pinning me down with ease. The strength she possesses definitely seems inhuman. Without much difficulty on her part, she has me strapped down within seconds. I would have struggled if I had even seen her movements, but my reaction time isn’t nearly as fast as how anyone in Eden moves.
I wonder, briefly, if I will ever get used to it, or if they will always seem to dart from place to place. I tug on the leather straps to test them, but they aren’t budging.
“Thank you, Natalie,” the Captain acknowledges.
She bows to him again, and takes her position at the head of the device, placing her hands on a lever there. From this angle, I can see the Captain looking at some sort of a computer screen, but I have no clue what it’s showing him.
I have no idea how this is going to work, but I have a feeling that this was going to hurt quite a bit. Especially if it’s anything like the rack device I learned about last semester. I tug on my straps one last time in my fear.
Taking my eyes away from the leather straps for a moment, I gaze at the Captain. It looks as if he’s watching some sort of reading on the screen. I don’t know how it’s getting information from me, but he’s analyzing some sort of data nonetheless.
Besides lying on a slab of wood, the only thing that’s attached to me are the straps. I don’t feel anything poking me, or even touching me that would possibly retrieve data from me while I lay here. The Lieutenant hasn’t connected any wires to me, and I can’t feel any within the straps, so the whole ordeal is puzzling.
Unfortunately, my confusion doesn’t overshadow my fear. Either way, there is definitely information being transmitted to him. He studies it carefully, humming to himself. He makes a gesture to the woman standing behind me, and she pulls on the lever. I can hear the gears creaking. There is a slight pull on the straps, but it doesn’t cause me any pain.
“That’s no good,” Captain King mumbles to himself. “Give it another three cranks and see where we are.”
“Yes, sir,” Natalie bows slightly before obeying.
The straps become tighter and tighter. I can feel my shoulders starting to stretch and be pulled from their sockets. I try my best not to scream. I hold it together so far. The Captain seems pleased with whatever is coming up on the monitor, though. He is smiling and nodding at the screen.
He gestures to his Lieutenant again, and the lever is pulled around a few more times, stretching the straps and my arms. This time I can’t help but let out a groan and a yelp from the pain it shoots though my shoulders. I can’t even get used to it while I wait for the next crank of the lever.
“Very good,” the Captain cheers.
He punches a few of the keys, and then looks up at me for the first time.
“How are you feeling, Miss?”
I glare at him, my lips pierced into a thin line to keep myself from screaming.
“Perfectly fine,” I respond, sarcastically through my gritted teeth.
I’m trying to keep my cool, but I’m not sure it’s working. I want to try and hang onto my dignity as long as possible. I probably shouldn’t have said that, though. He smirks and gestures to his Lieutenant again, and she pulls the lever so it cranks another three times.
I let out a scream this time. Not loud. I keep my mouth shut, and bite down on my lips so it is muffled.
“Lovely,” he comments.
He keeps watching the monitor and motioning for the woman to continue pulling on the lever. My arms and legs stretch further and further. He only stops when my limbs start to crack and pop from the pressure. They are only a few more cranks from being pull completely out of their sockets, and requiring medical treatment.
By this time, I’m crying. I couldn’t stop the tears no matter how hard I tried. They are streaming down my cheeks. I can’t control it. I have never enjoyed crying in front of people, no matter how much pain I’m in, so being unable to wipe my face is making the situation dramatically worse for me.
I pull more on the straps reluctantly, more pain shooting down my arm, but they still won’t budge. It just causes my sockets more pain.
“Hmm… that’s enough for today, Natalie,” he calls.
He sounds disappointed, as if he isn’t getting the results he was hoping for.
“We’ll pick it up tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” she answers, letting go of the lever and releasing me from the taut, leather straps. My wrists are sore and there is deep bruising around them. My ankles feel the same, but I wait to check them until I make it back to the platform.
The woman, Natalie, helps me down from the rack but I have to walk on my own. The Captain leads the way back to the room full of glass cases, and his Lieutenant follows behind me, close on my heels.
I’m dawdling, taking my time walking slowly from the pain, so I’m sure she is annoyed with how far behind her Captain I’m getting. If she isn’t a robot, anyway. I want to look behind me to see if I can spot any annoyance on her face, but decide not to. I’m too exhausted from pain to really care that much.
He stops at the control panel in front of my platform, and I continue to take my time walking slowly, and gingerly towards it. I crawl onto the platform and roll into the middle while he pushes a few buttons for the glass casing to reappear.
After he punches a few more keys on the control panel, they both leave without another word. I’m left in this large room with nothing but air to keep me company. This must be close to what Becky or the old man felt like when they were waiting to move on.
At least they had company.
Chapter 20
I lay on the floor for several minutes. I’m hoping the pain will dull and I will feel normal again, but I don’t. Even after an hour, the pain is still just as agonizing as when the Lieutenant was pulling on the
lever. The contraption they had me in must have done more than what it seems on the surface.
The same square as earlier lowers itself into the ground, and up comes another one with, what looks like, oatmeal and a change of clothing. There’s, also, a large washbowl filled with water, a washcloth, and a towel situated on it.
The platform must be cut into nine separate pieces so they can easily give me necessary items without coming into contact with me. They don’t see me as dangerous, more of a bug they don’t want to get close to if they don’t have to.
Maybe they’re afraid I might infect them with some sort of disease since I’m a human who has powers. That would be funny after everything they’ve done to capture me. For me, anyway.
I sit up and scoot to the necessities they have allowed me. I start by dipping the washcloth in the basin, and cleaning my face and body, washing my purple wrists, wishing beyond hope that the bruises will fade away. I try it on my ankles, too, but I come up with the same result. The lukewarm water feels amazingly good on my tender skin.
Setting the washcloth aside, I quickly change. I know they have to be watching me, but I feel dirty in the clothing I have on. They have given me a simple white t-shirt and plain white Capri pajama bottoms. There is, also, a fresh pair of underwear and a bra.
How they already know my bra size is a mystery to me, but reminds me of how Degory was able to know my clothing size when he bought those new clothes for me. Maybe Reapers have some sort of sixth sense that gives them amazing judgement and estimation abilities?
No matter how you swing it, it’s a super weird gift to have, which is probably why they don’t advertise it.
Too tired to think more on it, I give the topic a rest and go back to cleaning myself up and changing. I place the old clothing on top of the square and reach for the bowl of food. Just before I grab it, the speaker above me crackles as if someone had turned it on, and I groan knowing exactly who it is. I am not looking forward to what he wants to say.
A voice comes through above me, it’s the Captain again.
“How do you feel about guests?” he asks, nonchalantly.
Almost like I’m a guest in his house rather than his new plaything. There’s no hint of genuine care in his tone. I’m actually shocked he’s asking me at all. I think it’s just a formality, because he doesn’t seem like the type of person to require a lab rat’s permission for someone to talk to one of his experiments.
“There is someone here who has requested to speak with you,” he continues. “I will turn off audio surveillance so you have a little privacy.”
I know it is polite to thank him but I can’t get myself to do so. The hissing from the speaker stops and there’s a clicking sound that I assume is the audio turning off. I grab the bowl of slop disguised as oatmeal, sitting with my legs crossed facing the door.
I’m not even expecting or hoping for it to be Degory after what happened yesterday. I’m trying to stay hopeful, but there’s no way it’s him.
The door opens, revealing his longtime friend, Lieutenant Mary Hacker, instead. I don’t know who I was expecting to walk through the door, but it wasn’t her.
“Miss Siebel,” she acknowledges, bowing.
It’s strange seeing someone actually respect me enough to bow like that. I nod to acknowledge her, slowly eating a small a spoonful of oatmeal to test it against my gullet.
“It’s good to see you again,” she greets.
I swallow the food with difficulty. My throat is extremely swollen and sore from screaming and crying.
“Is there something I can do for you, Lieutenant?” I say as nicely as I can, but I have no doubt she can hear the scratchy, worn out sound in my voice.
I’m actually a little worried my statement comes across as rude. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem distressed with my tone. Her brow furrows. She actually seems concerned about why my speech sounds strange.
“I thought you would want to hear about how Degory is doing,” she offers.
I lower my head. I do want to hear, I’m just worried about what she’s going to say. I’m not sure I can handle bad news after my experiences today.
“How is he?” I manage to whisper, as I look down at the bowl of slop, knowing I won’t be able to finish it.
“He’s doing as well as can be expected,” she admits. “He’s never acted like that before, so a lot of the Divisions are questioning his reliability. Luckily, no talk about his role as a Captain thus far. As we speak, he’s still trying to figure out a way to get you out of here and back to the Living World.”
I look up at her.
“Why is he still trying?” I croak.
I try clearing my throat before speaking again, but it doesn’t help.
“He should forget about me,” I tell her. “I don’t want him getting into any more trouble over all of this – not over me.”
“He can’t,” she says, forcefully.
It sounds like she’s frustrated. Maybe she’s been trying to convince him to let go and he won’t. That definitely seems like him.
“Why not?”
My voice cracks as I attempt to speak. I try to clear my throat again, but it doesn’t stop the pain, or take away the gravelly sound.
“Whether you like it or not, you’ve changed him forever,” she informs me. “Those bruises on your wrists and ankles? He knows that sort of thing is going to happen, and will happen routinely. He will not stand for it. No matter what you or I say to him, he will not stop until he is able to free you from this place.”
I sigh. I don’t want to believe it but I know she’s right. He’s more stubborn as I am, and won’t back down until he completes his self-appointed task. He has made up his mind, and there isn’t a damn thing anyone can do to change it. I can’t fault him for it, though, because it’s part of the reason I love him.
“I appreciate you coming here and giving me an update on him,” I choke out, “but I have a hard time believing you came just for me.”
“You’re right,” she admits. “Degory asked me to come here and check up on you. He wants a status report on your situation and health.”
“He can’t order you like that though, can he?” I wonder, aloud.
It’s seems strange that a Captain from a different Division could order another Reaper around. I’m sure there’s some sort of respect involved, but that doesn’t sound right. He can’t just tell her what to do like that…at least I don’t think.
“You’re not his subordinate.”
“No, he can’t,” she confirms. “He asked me as a friend. My Captain is very kind. He knows that I’m close with Degory and has allowed me some leeway for the time being.”
“Oh…alright,” I croak.
That clears that up.
“Is there anything else you need?” I ask.
“Have they bound your powers yet?”
My body instantly goes rigid. I completely forgot that was part of my punishment after Captain King tried to set me on fire.
“Not yet,” I acknowledge, “but I don’t know what they are waiting for.”
“Then, I believe I have enough information for him,” she states. “You should know that Degory is not the only one trying to help you. There are some Reapers who do not think that the Research and Development experiments are humane.”
I don’t know what to say, so I look down at the bowl again and start pushing the oatmeal around with my spoon.
“I will check back with you in a few days,” she continues. “Degory has asked me to give you progress reports as well. He is hoping to have you out soon. To be honest, I’m not as hopeful as he is, but I do hope he can. I don’t think you deserve what is being done to you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, gratefully.
It is nice knowing someone else is on my side.
“Goodbye for now,” she offers, sincerely. “I will see you in a few days.”
She bows again and leaves without a second glance. Hopefully, she will tell him that I want him to
stop trying to save me and move on. He’s stubborn, but I still have hope he will listen to me, even if he won’t listen to Mary.
Nothing good is going to come out of releasing me from this crazy lab. They will just keep coming after me, and then he will face much more severe consequences than what has been given to him up to this point. He has not been reprimanded or been held responsible for his actions yet, but I imagine he will be if he doesn’t stop, and soon.
The leaders of Eden must really respect him and his judgment for not giving out any consequences yet.
The clicking comes again, and I assume the audio is back on. I wonder how Mary was able to get them to turn it off for our conversation. Maybe Lieutenants have certain rights or the ability to make certain requests. I will have to ask her more about the different duties, responsibilities, and allowances they have the next time she came to visit.
Perhaps use it as a means of getting to know a little more about her. Whenever she’ll be able to visit again. Either way, I should really try to get to know her since she’s a really good friend of Degory’s.
I force myself to finish my oatmeal and place the empty bowl on the square. It killed my throat to eat it, but I couldn’t get myself to stop. The square lowers itself down and is replaced with a cleared square.
I crawl to the bed, lift myself up, and lay down on it, exhausted. If it wasn’t for Mary telling me about Degory, I probably would have passed out by now.
A dim light is turned on above my platform, but the rest slowly blink off one after the other. I pull the sheet over me, and lay staring up at the ceiling.
I wonder if this would have happened if I had just ignored Degory that day. I don’t regret meeting him at all, but I can’t help thinking about how different my life would be now had we not interacted.
Also, I think about Mary telling him about my bruises. I absentmindedly rub my wrists, and rub my ankles with my toes. If she can’t get him to forget about getting me out of here, then this is going to make it worse. He already feels responsible for not keeping me away from Eden in the first place.
Waiting a Lifetime (The Waiting Series Book 1) Page 19