Talk

The Scientist

He takes a deep breath, opening his deep blue eyes and taking in his immediate surroundings. He stands perfectly straight, back against cold metal and arms strapped down. The room is dark, with nothing but a desk lamp lighting the small table of instruments in front of him. The table is white, with tools consisting of everything from screwdrivers to scalpels. He looks up from the desk and into the eyes of a grinning young man. His eyes are brown and his hair stands up as if he were indeed a mad scientist.

"Good morning," the man greets, his blush cheeks moving with his smile.

He looks at the scientist before glancing back down at his arms, as if a signal to release him from the cold table. "Oh! You're probably wondering about that," the scientist stutters. "I'm afraid I can't release you until I know it's safe to," he says.

He blinks before lifting his head up again. The scientist is still grinning, looking as if he's just discovered a new element. "My name is Dr. Harvey, by the way," he says, never losing his cheekiness. "Doctor Philip Christopher Hammond Harvey."

"What's yours?" Dr. Harvey asks, as if speaking to a child.

"Christopher Anthony John Martin," he replies, blinking. "But you can call me Chris."

Dr. Harvey punches the sky in excitement and Chris automatically raises an eyebrow. His turns his head to his left and notices piles upon piles of scrap parts. Slowly, he turns his head back to Dr. Harvey and notices that the man isn't even paying attention. In fact, the man is celebrating.

"Are you alright?" Chris asks, both confused and scared by the man's erratic behavior.

"I'm terrific!" The scientist replies. "I can't believe it worked!" He shouts.

Chris simply turns his head to his right, ignoring the odd man. To his right, there's not much to see other than what appears to be a junk yard for what he can only presume to be failed experiments. Strange looking hats, armor-like clothing, and loads of other interesting gadgets.

"Can you turn to face me, please?" The doctor requests. Chris does as he's told and turns his head back to face the odd man.

Dr. Harvey holds Chris's head still and looks into eyes, as if searching for something. "How many fingers am I holding up?" Dr. Harvey asks, not tearing his eyes away from Chris's. 

Chris looks down at the man's hand and replies, "four."

Dr. Harvey's smile slowly creeps back to his face. "Very good," he praises. "Now, I'm going to cover one eye and you're going to answer the same question, alright?"

Chris agrees and does the same test again. And again. And again. Dr. Harvey tests the functionality of Chris's eyes for what seems like hours (though it probably lasted a maximum of ten minutes) before moving onto his nose, then his mouth.

After hours of this repeated testing, Dr. Harvey grins the largest Chris has seen yet. "Well, Chris, I suppose this means you can be released, as it appears that everything appears to be working to perfection." Chris can't help but feel relief, as his grueling hours of testing in the dark are over. The only thought running through his mind is being able to go outside. "Now, though you'll be released, I'll still require that you stay by my side for the next month. Assuming nothing goes wrong, by August, you'll be attending University and I'll be winning the Nobel Prize."

Though Chris agrees to the conditions, he's still not exactly sure what could be going on or where he is. He simply watches as the scientist released him from the straps holding him down. Instinctually, he rubs the mark left by the leather, and Dr. Harvey takes some sort of note.

"Alright, follow me," the doctor instructs, and Chris does as he's told.

Dr. Harvey leads Chris down a pitch-black hallway, with the only guide being the slimy walls. He doesn't complain, as he doesn't want to bother the doctor, but his brain tells him that he should be disgusted.