13 WINDOWS

Chapter 32 Part 3: The GAME

There were no more dreams or even nightmares anymore. Rupert was somewhere deeper than that. And he had no idea how long he had been unconscious when his eyes slowly opened. How long had he even been awake?

He tried to look around him but his head was unable to move. He could only move his eyes. He was strapped down on a table. A leather fastening belt was wrapped tightly across his forehead. There were three more leather belts tied across his chest and arms, and yet another three across his legs. His groin was in terrible pain, and it seemed as if it was covered in bandages. He could move his fingers and toes freely but that was about it.

There were several tubes coming out of his arm attached to intravenous bags. He looked up at the liquid drips and he wondered what was in them. With his eyes he could see he was in some sort of isolated, white padded room. No one else was in the room with him. He could hear the beeping of his monitor. His heart was beating slowly.

In front of him, in between his legs, he could see the only door to the room. There was one small square window looking in. It was big enough for a human head to observe a patient.

He looked up at his heart monitor, which displayed the time. It was 3:30 AM. He had no idea what day it was anymore. He had lost track of time.

Rupert lay there staring at the ceiling trying to piece together what had happened. He remembered the knife fight, and biting the other patient's ear. Rupert felt as if he could still taste the man's blood in his mouth.

After that he remembered that he had been dragged to this isolated cell by three security guards. One of them looked like the nameless man who had been following him. He had said "Hello Rupert," just before he went under. Rupert had been doubting his own sanity for a while now. Maybe everyone else had been right all along and this man was only an illusion.

Rupert heard a faint sound outside the door. He tried to listen. It seemed like some kind of squeaking. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere far down the hall outside his cell.

Rupert tried to take a deep breath and relax. If Gunter Streicher was dead, and Stefan Streicher was dead, then who did he really have to fear? Some figment of his imagination? Some darker, opposite shadow of his personality that he was hallucinating?

The squeaking sound was getting louder. It sounded like someone was pushing a cart with a wheel that needed oil.

squeak....

Squeak....

SQUEAK....

In between the squeaks he could hear a man coughing.

Rupert remembered the crazy dreams he had had in the hospital in Toronto. Had he not dreamed this before at the hospital? He tried to remember....

The cart was coming closer to the room. He could hear it down the hallway. Rupert could hear his heart rate was beginning to increase.

Beep.....................beep...............beep.........beep.....beep

The squeaking of the cart was unbearable, and it was reflecting off of the walls of the hallway.

squeak....

Squeak...

A deep, troublesome cough again...

SQUEAK...

And then it had stopped. It sounded like it was right next to the door. Rupert looked up at the small square window. His heart rate was still increasing.

Then, in the small square window, Rupert saw a man's face look in. It was the bald man with the circular glasses. The strange man's face that had been cold and emotionless every time he had seen it, was now slowly transforming into a sick grin.