Destroyer - The Death Cure (Book 3)

Chapter 22: Tourture

The group waited for the elevator. Minho was slumped in between the gaurds, his body ached. His was head pounding, and he just wanted to lay down and sleep, go back to his dreams of Alex and those feelings of safety and warmth.

Ava and Janson were still leaning into each other talking urgently.

"We need to speed this up! It's not working as fast or as well as we hoped!" Janson whispered urgently.

Ava glanced back at Minho. He slid a bit further down, the guards had to shrug him up a bit more.

"Yes. I know that Director!" She snapped.

She pursed her  right red lips and pulled on the hem of her crisp white blows.

"But what do you expect when our head researcher has disappeared without a trace?" She said sharply,

Janson shifted uncomfortably. Ava Page continued as she folded her hands in front of her.

"What are you suggesting? SHE was spotted on OUR grounds. That means she is on her way for him. We have half a day at most. You still do have eyes on her? Right!"

Minho could see an evil smile curl on Janson's lips. And his stomach jumped into his throat. He felt the rising dread and panic.

"Don't worry Chancellor. Leave the details to me." He whispered back his eyes flashed, and his smile sent shivers down Minho's spine.

The elevator beeped. The guards pulled him out and down the hall. Ava and Janson followed, still whispering.

What kind of fresh hell does he have planned?

Minho closed his eyes, trying to get himself back in control. He was terrified of Janson, the man was twisted and malicious. He tried not to cry or whimpered. His breathing was shallow. The guards dragged him down the bright white hall.

Minho thought he heard a small gasp, as they passed a door. He tried to turn his head to see, but the guards were marching him too fast and they had a death grip on him.

They reached the door. Janson swiped his card and opened it, ushering them inside.

"Inform me when you're ready for me to observe." She said crisply. Ava nodded and turned on her heel.

The guards pulled Minho towards the chair in the middle of the room. His heart was beating wildly, his mouth went dry, and he started sweating.

"Not the chair! Please...please not the chair! No no no." He whimpered.

He struggled, trying to pull his arms free. He fought with what little strength he had left.

The guards pulled him closer to the chair. Minho started yelling now, the guards were yelling at him to comply. Janson threw another punch into his stomach. Minho double over, trying to get his breath back, and the guards took that pause in his fighting to throw him onto the chair. A doctor entered the room from a different door with a long menacing needle.

"NOOO!" Minho screamed, he was terrified of the chair.

He flailed his arms and legs. He kicked the doctor's arm and knocked the needle out of his hand, it rolled across the floor. The doctor scrambled over to pick it up. Two of the guards managed to hold him down. The third guard succeeded in strapping him down.

"JUST GET IT IN HIM!" Janson screamed at the doctor.

He finally got ahold of the needle. He scrambled to his feet, fidgeting with it. Minho faught with everything he had left. Fighting, straining and pulling on the straps. He was yelling at Janson, the guards and the doctor. He knew his fight was futile, but he caught anyways. They were his survival instincts. And that's all he had left. That and a little bit of defiance.