O U T | The Group Chat

CHAPTER 1

P A R T   1
,,REVOLT"

CHAPTER 1

His limbs itched.
He felt as if thousand bugs were crawling and biting underneath his skin, right below the surface but deep enough so that he couldn't scratch the sensation away. No matter how hard he dug his nails into his arms the feeling would not go away. It mocked and laughed at him.

He was forced to open his eyes.
He eyed the room, numbness filling his mind upon realizing nothing's changed.

He was still in the same criminally white room.
Still in the same station, his legs and abdomen locked in place with leather straps.
There was still a new set of faces each day to come and try to make use of him.
It made him sick

"It isn't improving"

He's been hearing it often recently...

"No way we could use it quickly if it's brain keeps on refusing to take in Adephamine"

He couldn't quite understand what kind of usefulness was the talk about since he'd barely had any chance to actually move around and do anything...
They've always been saying stuff that made little to no sense to him but he had an opportunity to learn that if something was not going their way... It wouldn't look good for him

So hearing the same statements for a while made his stomach twist with a weird sense of anxiety. He was afraid but he did not know what of.

xxx

Larry pushed past the main desk after flashing the receptionist his badge and tried to chase his disgust away at the crowd of people he had to maneuver between to get to his locker. The smell of sweat, cologne and sweet perfume was mixing in his nose, making him scrunch it in annoyance at the nauseous sensation it gave him.

Finally, he spotted the door with number 78 plastered on it in golden letters and grunted as he pushed the heavy structure so he could slip into the smaller room.

It was less crowded though still about ten to fifteen guys were standing or sitting around, talking and laughing obnoxiously. It was a blessing compared to the sheer blast of noise outside but was far from the comfort Larry's own office provided him.

He quickly opened his locker with his name and number written shakily on the white paper stuck to its upper right corner. He chucked his bag inside and shrugged off his coat which he replaced with the pristine white medical coat that always awaited him on the little hanger. It smelled of washing powder and bleach and Larry wondered just how easy each sin of this place could be varnished with a bit of chemicals.

He left the locker room, swiftly blending in and following the crowd that crawled further inside the facility. He dropped by a library where he checked in and asked for his documents for the shift.

There was no smalltalk as he waited for the receptionist to hand him his papers. He didn't know them. Each time he was let inside a new face would look for his documents which would also explain why it took so long every damn time. He knew perfectly where his folder was tucked underneath the load of others that were compiled and stuck between a plastic badge saying 'RESEARCH' and another saying 'MORPHITRINE'. He could see the pile from his place behind the glass window but he'd lost interest in trying to help the receptionist long ago. If anything, those few minutes wasted here were kind of a blessing in disguise for him.