Chapter 8 ~ Tests

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Chapter 8 ~ Tests 

~Niall's POV~

A clear liquid floats into the tube of the syringe as I scream.  

I can feel it inside of my eye, a dull pain spreading in my eye socket, like a horrible headache. 

"Now, now. Don't scream like that, Niall." The doctor says as he pulls the needle out. There is only a thin layer of frost on the steel. They must have proved everything against ice to be able to test on me. 

"With the liquid in your eye, we can try to find a potion that will disable your powers for a while." He explains as he puts the liquid in a special container. "We will use that on you to help the testing on you easier. You know, so we don't have to be afraid you will freeze us." 

I have my eyes shut tightly. I can still feel that horrible sensation of the needle inside my eyeball. "Please, no more." I beg softly. 

The doctor laughs. "Stop? Boy, we have only just begun." 

In my memory, I hear Zayn scream again. Who knows what they are doing to him at this very moment. And by the looks of that, this won't be any better for me either. The doctor seems to have way too much fun with this too. 

I open my eyes again once the pain has subsided a little. From the corner of my eye, I see the doctor pick up something that looks like a metal skewer. When he gets closer to me again I prepare mentally for the pain. 

With a chuckle, he places the thing on the skin of my arm. Then he takes out a chronometer and starts timing. 

"What are you doing?" I ask. confused

The doctor keeps his eyes on the skewer. "Seeing how long it takes for our special material to freeze over anyway." He says. 

A silence falls. 

"That way I will know how long I can cut in you before you will freeze my toys, possibly myself." He adds after a few minutes. The beep signals the skewer has frozen over. "And look at that. I've got three whole minutes." 

With tweezers, he takes the skewer away from my skin and places it on an empty metal plate with green paper in it. 

This guy really seems to know what he is doing. He won't slip up by accidentally touching my skin. 

Next, he takes a scalpel. I frown. "Please, no. Don't do this." I beg him again and try to move once again. It's no use. The liquid he injected into my veins is keeping me immobile while at the same time, it allows me to feel everything that is happening to me. 

I regret running away from home now and complaining about my life. People being mean to me was a hundred times better than being cut open alive. 

"I need a few samples." He tells me before lifting up the shirt I am wearing. He places the knife on my lower stomach. I can feel the sting of it poking me. 

"No, no! Please!" I beg, but he doesn't listen to me as he cuts into my skin. I can feel blood well up and drip down over my stomach, down my sides, and onto the metal table I'm laying on. I scream at the top of my lungs. 

I don't know how deep he goes. I can't tell like this and I can't see since I am not able to lift my head. 

The part of me he removed, he puts in a sample bag. 

"Curious." He mutters as he studies the see-through bag with part of me in it. "Just a few more things now and I will be done for today." He puts the bag away on his table with tools and takes the scissors. 

At first, I am afraid as to what he will do with them. It is a great relief when he only cuts a few strands of hair. 

Then he smiles as he takes the tweezers again. "This will probably hurt more." 

I clench my eyes shut. I don't want to see it anymore. The pain at my stomach, which is skinned on a certain place, is making me nauseous. I feel touches on my hand then. 

What is he...? 

The next moment I feel something is slightly pulling at my nail. 

Realization hits me at the same time the doctor rips the nail from my finger. 

I can't help myself as another scream escapes me. It hurts. I can feel it bleeding too. 

Now I get why Zayn was fighting this. And to think that this is only the first session. It probably will be the easiest one out of them all. 

A tear slips from my eye. The doctor quickly catches it in a vial before it turns into snow. Then with another vial, he catches same of the blood that has pooled on the table I am laying on. 

"We are done for now." He says as he starts cleaning his tools and gathering the samples he has collected of me. 

I have opened my eyes and am staring at him in disbelieve. 

"How can you do something like this? Do you have no heart? No feelings?" My voice is silent as I ask him this. 

He looks up at me after he gave the samples to an assistant at the door. The assistant has left now to bring them to the lab most likely. 

"I do have a heart." He says nonchalantly. "Just not for you." 

"For who? Your wife, children?" He is most certainly old enough to have children. 

"Yes, boy. For my family. As I just said, not for monsters like you." He is done packing his tools. 

"What if it was your child laying here? Would you do the same thing?" 

The man hesitates before looking at me. "But it isn't my son." He answers me. "I know my son is no freak like you. It is for him and my wife I am doing this job." Then he smiles. "And my boy has followed me in here. He is getting an education in this building to do exactly what I do. So don't try to guilt me out of this, because I am regretting this. I am keeping the world safe from people like you." He stands up and straightens his coat. "So goodnight, freak. I will see you tomorrow when I am allowed to poke in you again." 

After that, he leaves the room and I am left alone in the white operation chamber. The wound on my stomach and the finger with the missing nail still hurt. 

I don't have to wait long before the assistant from earlier comes back and puts disinfectant on the wounds. Pure alcohol she threw over them and I scream out once again. 

After, she patches up the wounds with a bandage. She signs the security men by the door to bring me back to my room. I know it's a prison. 

I stare up at the passing lights on the ceiling as they roll me on the metal table through the corridors. 

I wonder how I will get out of here. If I will ever be able to get out of here before I die, like the girl who cried diamonds. 

New tears well up in my eyes. 

Zayn... He has to get out too, with me. 

What have we done to the world that it treats us so badly now? I don't recall anything I have done wrong. 

We arrive in my 'room' once more. One of the guards stays at the door to make sure I won't bolt out once the liquid inside of me wears off. The other one roughly turns over the table so I fall on the blankets and pillow that is supposed to be my bed. I groan in pain and don't pay attention to them leaving. 

As soon as the door locks, the lights flick off. 

I lay alone, very slowly moving my limbs to curl up in myself as I cry. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------(1355 words)

Yeah... At least I hope you enjoyed. :) 

xx Lisa xx

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