O U T | The Group Chat

CHAPTER 10

Larry put down his pencil and occupied both of his hands with his face, massaging it and pressing his fingertips deep into his eyeballs to force the strain away. He hated doing this.

His desk, tucked in the corner of his pseudo-office, had an empty coffee mug and a half full glass of water by its side standing near the wall. Right side of the surface was covered with some stray papers, two opened biology encyclopedias, one showing microscopic images of cells with high metabolic activities and other pages with blocks of text regarding blood clotting systems in various organisms, and a wide notebook in which Larry's handwriting and scribbles were already littering one of the opened pages. Next to it, in the middle of the desk stood a microscope, set and calibrated to perfectly show a piece of skin pressed onto the slide that was sitting under the scrutinizing white light of the device.

Obtaining tissues to study was... complicated. Larry didn't expect it to be as hard on Tanner as it was but the moment he approached the taller with medical equipment among which sat a syringe and a scalpel and the other immediately tensed he knew this wouldn't go easily. Tanner eyed him sharply, his otherwise relaxed, soft features suddenly stone cold and blocked off. Even though he stayed relatively immobile Larry noticed the littlest jumps and moves which would drive his goose bombs-coated skin away from the sharp objects. They haven't talked since. He could feel Tanner peeking inside the room from time to time, his presence making Larry itching all over.

Tanner couldn't explain the sudden shift his brain forced onto himself. It was so overwhelming and unexpected he didn't know how to even react - if he should say anything, do anything? Like a deer in headlights the moment he spotted a syringe in Larry's hands his mind went blank with fear and anger, freezing him in place. His thoughts rushed and crashed - rational with emotion-fueled as he tried desperately to reassure himself that it was Larry who didn't want to hurt him, who wouldn't hurt him.

And yet each cut, each poke no matter how reassuring Larry's voice sounded with praises he was throwing at him left and right, it all felt like torture. He felt his skin cells detaching under the sharp blade of the scalpel, felt his body twitching in agony as each action brought a flood of flashing memories with it. The restless nights, the never ending terror of waking up, pain and forget. He felt the syringe digging into his tissue on his arm and yet it seemed to him like it shot right through his brain and soul.

The smaller man left shortly after but he himself was stuck in place with shaky hands and pupils blown wide. He glanced into the room a few times before he finally stepped and halted inside the doorway for a longer while. He studied Larry's frame, haunched over the desk as he scribbled away. Just like they used to do. Tear away and take parts of him to cage into glass and read every detail of. Pick apart this thing he's become so that he could never get ahead, he could never fight back and he could never win.

'But Larry wasn't like that' a voice nudged. It wasn't wrong. He had no real proof of any ill intent towards himself from the guy.

'But he was working there. He's obviously done stuff like that before. Who's to say he isn't looking for a way to control you right now?' Another said.

'Who's to say he isn't afraid?'

'He said he wasn't'

'People lie'

Tanner stepped inside the room.

'He looks just like any of them. Looking through the fancy device that shows your insides. He wants to trap you again'

A piercing pain shot through his rib cage, shallowing his breathing.

'He's tricked you. He'll give you away the second he gets a chance. Nobody will ever trust you'