The Four - Book 2

Chapter 17

Paytah

This is the first day that the guards have come in with no weapons.

It's a daily thing, where guards come in with some sort of new weapon, testing it on me, seeing if the weapon can make a human black out.

All of them have worked. Even the fucking small stones, after a good hour of the guards throwing and hitting me with them.

But this time is different.

This time, they come and reach for me, picking me up and dragging me towards the exit. I can barely walk, each step sends a unbearable pain to my whole body, making me close my eyes and wince. The guards must be sick of me stumbling at every step, because they lift most of my body weight so I'm just tiptoeing.

How nice of them.

I don't get to look around at all, a guard has his hand pressed firmly on the back of my head, keeping my eyes fixed to the ground. I feel the heat rising in me, trying to fight its way out of me.

No, not now. It's me against a pile of guards, there's no way I'd succeed.

But as we enter a room and I see my mother standing there, I highly consider burning everyone alive and risking it. But before I can react, guards set me down on a metal table, ripping my shirt off and strapping me down. I begin to worry, and try to get out of the straps, but they are tight against my skin. I'm sweating, but the cold table sends me chills. The guards walk away, and I get a good look at my mother.

"What are you doing?" I ask, looking straight at my mother.

"Now why would I tell you that?" She asks, walking up to me till she's right by the table.

I swallow down bile. "Because if I know, I'll be more calm."

I'm surprised she's pondering that. She stares at me, then at the ground, her lips pierced together. For a moment I think that she's finally realizing what she's doing to her son, but her face turns back into a glare.

My eyes move to the doctors that are preparing for-something. I see needles, all sorts of needles, and bottles of stuff that I cannot read.

She can see my nerves, I know she can. Because what she tells me next gets my attention.

"We're going to mess with your head."

I know she immediately regrets saying that to me, because it doesn't make me calm, not at all. It makes me aware. It makes me prepare to fight against it.

"Shit." She mumbles quietly.

And I can't help but smile.

"Start. Now." She demands. She comes up to me and slaps her hand across my face. My face turns to the right from the impact, but I move back. By the time I do move back, she's holding one of those bottles that I saw before, and presses it against my mouth. I try to keep my mouth shut, but now doctors are helping her, forcing my mouth open, plugging my nose and pouring half the bottle down my throat. I grab the sides of the table and gasp for air, the liquid burning in the inside.

Now I'm heating up. I can see smoke rising from my body, the doctors above me are sweating, but continue to get things ready. My minds a blur, my eyesight seems fuzzy, but I see some of them holding needles.