Experiment Scarecrow

Tell No One

The white walls blinded him, forcing his pupils to contract again, staring blankly toward the ceiling. A faint smile pulled across his sewn lips, unable to part them as he once did--each time he tried, the stitching tugged his lips back together, forcing him to lie in silence.

Quiet laughter formed within his throat, his body jerking as his wrists and ankles remained strapped to the colorless bed. His figure twisted, arms and legs pulling at the straps before arching his back; the close-lipped smile spreading across his face as another burst of laughter drummed in his throat.

A familiar click of the heavy metal door caught his attention, panicked breaths now filling the silence as the door carefully creaked open, revealing the same Japanese woman from before.

He lifted his head, eyes fixated on the tray held within her hands; one the nurses often were in charge of delivering to him. His eyes slowly drifted up to her name tag. "Dr. Lillian Ohara." 

The crazed smile crumbled into a faint frown, watching her dark eyes nervously scan the room as she grew closer to him. 

"It is time, Scarecrow," she whispered to him, carefully placing the tray on the floor. "I told them I would tend to you today..." 

Remaining crouched on the floor, her fingers trailed across the tray before collecting a pair of suture cutting scissors. Lifting from the tray, she carefully neared him, watching as he desperately pulled at the restraints, panicked breaths pushing his chest in a heaving motion.

"No, no! Shh!" Dr. Ohara placed a finger to her lips, shaking her head. "I am here to help you. D-Do you remember when I told you I had a plan?" she asked him softly, reaching to begin clip the stitches lining his lips.

Finally becoming still, he cautiously nodded, focusing on the scissors carefully slipping underneath the sutures to trim them away.

"Ok, what I meant, is that I would help you escape. Th-This is not right, Scarecrow. You have been held here, and tormented for seven years. The majority of those years you were-you are just a child." Shaking her head in disgust, she finally cut away the last stitch, pausing to inspect the others trailing past the corners of his mouth. 

Slipping the scissors back into her pocket, she allowed a hand to softly brush over the remaining sutures where Dr. Madden had cut too far. "All because they think you're a miracle cure..." she sighed. "But-But it won't work..."

He continued to stare at her, despite his lips now free, they remained closed in silence.

"A-And after being here for so long, knowing it won't work, I-I had to set you free. You can't go on suffering like this." Dr. Ohara stood, beginning to peel the straps away from his ankles. "So, after some thought, I have made an escape plan for you."

Lifting his head, a puzzled look crossed his face.

"Since I volunteered to tend to you today, they will discover that I set you free, and..." A quiet sigh escaped her, pausing as the strap pulled away from his ankle. "They will kill me, and possibly my family. Therefore, you need to kill me."

He shook his head, eyes widening at the words escaping her.

Noting his panicked reaction, she nodded--a solemn disposition falling over her. "I know, but it is the only way for the both of us to get what we want," she tried to explain, moving to work at unstrapping his wrists.

Once they were free, he quickly sat up, rubbing at the bone of each wrist. 

Dr. Ohara allowed a hand to slip back into the pocket of her lab coat, pulling out the scissors. "You will kill me with these. I-I will try to be silent, but... I cannot promise you it. Once you... end... me with these--you will take this needle," she paused, reaching down to pick up a curved, suturing needle from the tray before reaching forward to slip into the pocket of his grey pajama bottoms. 

"Along with the scissors, and my ID card. Once you have them, run out left down the hall to the big door, and swipe it open with the card. Sprint down the stairs, and when you are at the intersection, take another left before bolting for the front doors. Do not let anyone get in your way, hence why you have the scissors. Break for the main gates, when you make it outside. They are open during the day. Once outside of the gates, head for the forest. Do not look back."

A momentarily hush fell over the room, tears filling her eyes as she stared toward the scissors in her hand, trembling ever so slightly. Finally, she lifted them, locking with his own. 

"Run as far as you can, Scarecrow. I-I know what you are capable of--you-your strength is not like anything I have seen before. Just-Just find a place where you will be safe in the forest. Any form of shelter you can find, stay there. And-And if anyone is to find you, do not tell them your name. Tell them nothing," she demanded, a quiet sniffle escaping, carefully holding the scissors out to him. "And if you need to kill them to protect yourself... do it."

He shook his head, pushing himself away only for her to reach forward, grasping onto his wrist with a quivering hand. "S-Scarecrow... i-it's the only way for the both of us to be free..."

The room seemed to grow brighter, his world beginning to spin as he finally took the scissors from her hand and into his own--tears even springing in his own eyes.

A faint smile crossed her lips, the hand she extended travelling up to brush a lock of hair from his eyes, returning down to cup his cheek; her ebony hair softly falling over her shoulder. "It's the only way..."

Squeezing his eyes shut, he lifted the hand before blindly plunging it down into her chest; a gasp answering, as well as the warm liquid now spilling onto his hand. 

A tear slid down his cheek, forcing his eyes open as she took familiar desperate breaths, slipping off the edge of the bed and onto the floor with a thud.

With quaking, crimson tainted hands, he hopped off the bed, reaching down to gently shake her; the body remaining limp the crimson liquid pooled around her.

He lifted a hand to cover his mouth, only to stop himself from the amount of blood smeared across his hands. Instead, he reached back down, collecting the ID card from her belt loop, and tearing the scissors from her chest.

"I-I'm sorry... pl-please forgive me..." he whispered quietly, pleading eyes flicking toward the ceiling before he sprinted toward the door, bare feet padding across the icy floor.

He raced into the hall, clutching the bloodied scissors close to his chest before reaching the first barrier; using the ID card to swipe open the creaky door. Eyes flicking back and forth, he quietly slipped out, letting it close behind him--soon bounding down the steps and toward the intersection of the meeting corridors.

Whipping around the corner, he checked back over his shoulder, simultaneously, slamming into another doctor; the same crimson color splattering across the man's white attire.

Stumbling back, his eyes lifted to meet the doctor's. "O-Oh my goodness!" the doctor cried, backing away with wide eyes. "N-Nurses! N-Nurses!"

Eyeing the weapon in his own hand, he lunged toward the doctor, swiping at his throat, forcing the doctor to step aside in terror before he could continue racing down the hallway toward the main lobby.

Panicked cries ran throughout the halls in search of the escaped patient, while he ducked and dodged the nurses who managed to locate him in the hall. 

"Lock the fronts doors! Lock the front doors!"

Finally, he turned around the corner, dashing past the front desk where a young nurse hopelessly reached for the button, under the desk, to lock them, only for him burst out the main doors onto the stone steps.

Like Dr. Ohara had said, he didn't stop running. He bolted down the steps, and eventually out the gates before anyone could reach him. The gentle breeze, and the warm sun, flecked across his pale skin in a familiar greeting; a feeling he had missed.

He left the desperate cries behind, darting alongside the highway for a nearly, never-ending journey until reaching the tree line to disappear into, for what he had thought, forever.