After much time alone in the dark, the man came back in again. He grabbed my head and pulled it to the side, injecting another round of whatever it is into my neck. I felt the same effects coming on as before, only this time there was nothing to pull me under into unconsciousness.
He messed with the chains at the wall above my head.
"Stand."
"What?"
"Stand," he said, this time harsher. He obviously wasn't happy about having to repeat himself.
I stood up on flimsy legs, drug induced clumsiness. Whatever this was he was making sure I couldn't get anywhere quickly.
I felt him pull on the chains until he had my hands crossed behind my back and he pushed me forward, nearly making me stumble to the ground.
"Move it."
I decided not to stall, going forward in the direction he had pushed me. When we were standing right in front of the door, it opened as if on it's own. I tried to wait for my eyes to adjust to all the light, but the man wasn't having any of that. He kept pushing me along.
My bare feet stumbled over tile and then carpet before I felt him use my body to open another door. By this time I could thankfully keep my eyes open and see.
I nearly hissed at the cold tile beneath my feet now. I looked around at the room we had walked into, a bathroom.
I looked at him questioningly.
"If you have to go, then go now. It will be your only chance until next time."
He didn't give me a time frame, so I didn't know how long next time would take to get here. I walked forward and he was right on my heels, still holding the chains.
"A little privacy?" I asked. I at least wanted the door between us.
"You gave up privacy with the last trick you tried to pull. Now get moving."
I pulled the chains hard, gaining some slack and I went to the toilet, maneuvering the shirt so that I could pull it up enough, but not too far that I was revealing anything to him. Not like he hadn't already seen it all.
When I finished he allowed me to wash my hands, something I didn't think he would. When I brought them around front I stared a moment too long at my wrists.
The cuffs around my wrist had already started to break the skin. I saw dried blood all over my wrists which had dripped down to my hands.
I quickly put my hands under the water and let the warm liquid wash it away. I relished the burn the soap and water inflicted on the cuts in my wrist. It let me know I could still feel and that I was still alive.
Who knows, maybe I'm dead and this is just my own personal hell.
I really needed to learn how to keep my mind from fighting back at me. I look for one good side, and it gives me the opposite.
The man clears his throat and pulls on the chains. He's clearly annoyed and ready to get going.
He then leads me down another hall, possibly the same one I had just gone down, until we stop outside a room and knocks.
There's a voice on the other end says to go in, and when the man opens the door my eyes go wide.
The room in blank and empty for the most part. There's another man sitting in a chair and an empty patient chair sitting in the center. There are tables around with different items that I can't see from this angle, and the man in the chair looks up.
"Bring her in and set her up."
I finally really look at the chair when I'm forced down into it. I see restraints that are attached to the arms, and some that are down by the feet. I feel the cold metal closing around my limbs and I bite back my panic that wants me to try and break free. I know it won't happen.
"She's been given the drug?"
"Yes sir. I administered it about fifteen minutes ago."
"Good, so it should be wearing down enough to see her heal."
To see me heal? What in the world was this guy talking about?
"That will be all for now, Sam." The man dismisses the person who brought me in here, Al.
I commit the name to memory. The more things I can find out about this place, the better.
"So what? You just gave me a weaker dose of whatever it is you've been shooting me up with? One that won't knock me out but will make me weak enough that I can't fight back?"
"Not exactly. This one was to muddle your mind," the man taps the space between my eyebrows. "We can't have you contacting anyone, now can we? However, it awakens your other abilities. You'll find your strength returning, your senses, your healing."
"Why do you want that?"
"Well to observe it of course."
The man's eyes gleam over me as he looks down and he fiddles with a few more things on the trays and tables before picking up two objects and coming back to me.
I see them gleaming on his lap, two sharp knives, and I bite my lip.
He wants to see how I heal, so he's going to cut me.
"I can just tell you what you need to know about it," I say quickly. Anything to keep him from slicing me open.
"Well then we can't observe for ourselves, now can we?"
He looks down at both the knives in his hand and picks one up. He fiddles with something next to him, a camera it looks like, and some monitors. He holds the knife out and talks clearly.
"Trial one, non-silver."
He brings the knife down to my right forearm and makes a shallow cut, but one that lets the blood start flowing.
I bite my lip harder and fight back the shout that wanted to make its way out.
The man watches with eyes aglow, waiting to watch the magic in action. I can feel it working, the werewolf part, the cut is starting to heal. The first sign is the bleeding stopped. I know that it will still be a while yet before it completely heals up. It will go through all the stages of a cut a human would have, it will just progress much, much quicker.
He then walks around to my other side, turning on another camera before speaking once more.
"Trial one, silver."
I feel the spike of fear in me. He's putting non-silver weapons against silver to see how we heal. They may know about us, but they want to know more. They want to know how we heal and why silver affects us the way it does.
I start pulling at the restraints now, because there is no way I want that blade anywhere near me. I can't be taking cuts from a silver dagger, I need to be able to keep what strength I have and bleeding out in a lab chair isn't going to do anything to help me.
However, I can't pull myself free. Another precaution they had, silver restraints.
I feel the cool blade press against my skin and feel the white hot sting as it slices through, another shallow cut.
This one will just keep bleeding. It will continue on at regular human speed and there will be nothing I can do about it.
The pure silver reacts with our skin and blood, as if where it touches us, we are human. There's no way to speed it up.
The man steps back and keeps the recordings going for the next fifteen minutes, watching the way the cuts react. Every so often he wets down a rag and wipes down my arms to clear off the blood that has already spilled, showing when each wound stops bleeding.
By the time the fifteen minutes are up, the non-silver cut has reached the scabbing stage.
He sits down next to me again. "I hope you ate, and I sincerely hope you don't have a weak stomach."
"Why?" I ask nervously.
"Stage two, non-silver."
I prepare for the blade to come down again, but this time a cry does escape my lips. He's dug the knife down deep. It feels like he's cutting into muscle and I can't help but scream at the pain. He sits back and my arm is shaking from the pain as a tear rolls down my cheek.
"Why," I whisper. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because we need the information. You're providing us with a big service here."
"I'm just like you!" I shout at him. "I'm living and breathing. I feel just like you do. How can you just sit there and cut someone open?"
"I'm afraid you're not like me. There's a whole part of you that is nothing like me at all, and that's what we're interested in."
He walks around to my other side again.
"Stage two, silver."
I want to thrash around. I know I need to get away from this crazy person, but I also know trying is futile. There's no way I can get out so I just brace myself for the pain. The pain that won't end any time soon.
The blade cuts deep and splits my skin and I scream out once more. The blood is flowing heavily down, dripping on the tiled floor. Their floor, stained with my blood.
I feel my heart pumping fast, just pumping it out of my body as fast as it can. I'm starting to feel dizzy, and I know this time it isn't from any drugs, it's from blood loss.
"My- my name is Allison. I have two parents," my voice comes out in a slurred whisper. "I have a best friend and a boyfriend. I go to high school. I'm a senior. I do homework, struggle with tests, and have fun like other teenagers."
I can see the man looking down at me out of the corner of my eye.
"What?"
"I- I'm just like anyone else. Friends, family, school, drama. That's who you're doing this to."
The man just snorts and wipes down the blood so the cameras can catch the healing, or lack there of in the case of the silver.
I wasn't sure why I was fighting to stay awake, but I was.
Probably because I'm afraid I won't wake back up.
But would that really be so bad? Sure, it's not how I would want to go, alone in this hell with people torturing me. But at least then it would all be over.
My eyelids started to get heavier, staying closed longer each time I blinked. The final time they shut, I saw Alarik's eyes looking back at me.
Alarik-
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Well there we go... I gave you all another update today! I know it probably isn't you know... the happiest one... but it's an update!!!
Comments and votes are always welcome! Thanks all :)