SHORT STORIES{collection]

THE SCIENTIST

I slouch in my chair, staring at the man seated in front of me as he eases back to consciousness. He groans softly, probably absorbing the full effect of a massive headache caused by my reliable Taser an hour ago. I say reliable because it made my task a thousand times easier. I had lured the man—who was jogging at the time—to the back of my minivan, asking for assistance in carrying a heavy box. Gosh, men are just so simple. They'll help any woman with a pretty face. After I stunned him with the Taser, he collapsed in the back of my minivan before he had a chance to lift the box and realize it was empty. I have to admit, I laughed when he flopped onto the floor like a puppet. Wouldn't you after using a Taser on someone? It was satisfying, and he seemed like such a nice guy too, but then again, that's the mask they all wear.

When the man wakes up fully, he surveys my makeshift lab littered with various chemicals swirling in aged equipment on the black tables. It's a sorry excuse for a laboratory compared to the expensive white rooms I worked in as a scientist for the WHO, but it's the best I could muster. I don't need the WHO.

Muffled screams erupt beneath the duct tape planted on his mouth. Like my Taser, the duct tape is very reliable. I bound his hands and feet to the chair with layers of tape to reduce any chances of him wriggling his way out. He is essentially glued which I imagine only sprung more panic inside him. He is squirming and fidgeting with the tape in his chair unsuccessfully. I love it, watching him try desperately to break free. Powerless. Men need to know what that feels like.

I walk over to the man who is still screaming and shaking in his chair like a wild animal caught in a trap. "Morning sleepy-head," I say before I slap him hard across his right cheek. My red handprint swells on his skin. "Now, are you going to behave, or do you need another?" He shakes his head, so I grin, realizing how easy today's experiment is going to be thanks to this man who is kind enough to follow directions. I rip the duct tape off of his mouth to show how much I appreciate his kindness. Trust me, I am not that cruel. Only if I have to be.

"Who are you?" he says. I'm not surprised considering I did kidnap him. I'm sure he just wants to know who exactly is going to kill him instead of some stranger, so I gladly tell him. "I am Quinn Barringer," I say, "but you can call me Dr. Barringer, or just Doctor, considering I am one." I sigh. "Well I used to be, at least." The fear never leaves his eyes as I watch him which makes me feel kind of sad, honestly. I'm not a scary person really, so I'm not sure why he seems so afraid. In fact, I'm actually quite nice once you get to know me, but most men don't care enough to do so.