|| Still Me ||

Chapter 8: Treatment

This chapter has some "touchy" in it,
nothing explicit or smut,
but I just wanted to warn readers that might feel uncomfortable with it!
But if you proceed...
ENJOY!

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Octavius ​​accepts your help but still keeps you monitored through his actuators and chained to the leg for 'your own good' as he had said. He decides to drop by your house to collect the blueprints you had taken from the laboratory after you confessed where you hid them.

"I'll go take the blueprints. Under your bed you said, right?"

He asks as he puts on his trench coat, pulling his hair back and turning to you with a raised eyebrow. A certain sense of pressure comes over you. It was as if he was making sure you were telling him the truth, questioning again your directions and your word. He was giving you a chance to correct yourself in case you lied to him earlier. You are silent for a moment. You rethink the exact location of the blueprints, not wanting him to doubt you even more or to get him angry for wasting his precious time

"Yes... They should be under my bed in a box"

You answer nodding, confirming the directions you gave him earlier. Octavius looks at you for a moment longer and after being convinced of your sincerity, he puts on his usual sunglasses, turning away while raised by his mechanical arms to head towards the exit.

"P-Please be careful!"

You spontaneously say aloud with an uncertain tone. Surely the police were still monitoring your house after what happened, but thinking about it you didn't know if you were more worried about the poor cops who would be in the Doctor's way or Octavius ​​who was actually equipped with his actuators but risked to get shot anyway... You awkwardly facepalm yourself for the thought

"Don't hurt anyone..."

You shake your head in stupid worry, reframing your words. Which side were you on? The Doctor seems to pause for a moment to look at you, giving you a smirk.

"I can't promise that sweetheart"

He replies with a certain irony in his voice. He was back to being the criminal Doctor Octopus. After waving his hand to you, he exits the building, disappearing quickly. You look for a moment at the exit, leaning your back against the pole behind you and releasing a long sigh, closing your eyes.

'I hope nobody gets hurt...'

You think to yourself while listening to the waves of the river splashing against the building. You didn't want the Doctor to get a worse reputation than he already had. The experiment gone wrong, the bank robbery, taking people as hostages... he had become a real criminal. Fortunately, from what you have heard no one was seriously injured or worse, dead...except for those poor surgeons. When all of this will be over the Doctor would surely have to answer for his actions... And it saddened you even though you knew it was the right thing.

'If only I had been there... Maybe...'

You think back to the incident imagining that perhaps, if you had been there, all of this would not have happened. That maybe you could have avoided the accident itself. That maybe... That maybe Octavius ​​wouldn't have turned out like this. You shake your head in denial, tapping your cheeks. It was not the time to think about the different ifs or to feel guilty about something that had already happened. Now you had to think about how to solve the actual situation.

After a moment you reopen your eyes and start watching around you, looking for something with which you could free yourself from the chains, in case things went wrong. Octavius, as you have noticed, had become unpredictable. There were times when he was himself and others when he went back to being the villain Dr. Octopus, caring only about his project. So precautions had to be taken. Looking around you notice several pieces of metal scattered on the ground, one in particular seems to be adequate enough to try to force the lock on the chain. Leaning on the pole behind, you slowly lift yourself, gritting your teeth for the pain that throbbed in your waist. Slowly dragging yourself, you try to get closer to the piece of metal but realize that the chain is really short. No more than 1 meter and half long. Looking at your ankle and then again around, you notice that fortunately not far away from you there is a broken chain with a hook, quite long but also of medium size and therefore certainly heavy. Having nothing to lose, you try to pull up the chain which, as you suspected, was heavy but not so heavy that it couldn't be lifted or handled. Breathing in, you use your strength to pull it as close as possible, stopping sometimes for the usual pain. After dragging it as close as possible, to the maximum length of your chain, now came the hardest part: being able to swing it to hook the iron pole you needed. You start swinging it and after reaching a certain speed you throw it while holding it firmly. The first attempt, of course, fails and you start pulling back the chain to try again.