Double Crossed (Invader Zim)

Chapter 15

When I wake up, I can barely tell that I've opened my eyes. The room is pitch black, and I can tell I'm lying on something. Whether it's the floor or a stiff bed, or some other surface I haven't thought of I can't be sure, but when I try to push myself up my head bangs against some sort of surface above me. I flatten back against whatever it is I'm laying on, instead deciding to lift my arms and feel around with my hands instead of my head.

Whatever was above me, it feels like concrete. I can't understand why there would be any sort of shelf above me, much less one made of concrete, so it must be a ceiling. Why would the roof be so low? Or am I just high up? I grunt and twist myself ninety degrees, and my legs dangle off of some sort of edge. So I'm not on the floor.

I slide off the surface, careful not to scrape my head against the ceiling, and fall with a loud thud onto the ground below. Based on the fall, I wasn't that far from the ground in the first place, and my suspicions are confirmed when I lift my arms to stretch and they brush against the concrete above me. Confused, I stretch my arms out to the side, only to find that the walls are also close together. What kind of room is so restrictive and small? Or made of concrete?

"Wait..." I mumble, the sudden realization setting in. I'm in the lab. Membrane sedated me. How long have I been out? Where am I in the building? Why is it so dark? And where's Zim?

Zim...

Oh no.

I throw myself against one of the walls, not sure which side I'm even on, and start banging on the wall. "Hey! Let me out! Let me out! I need to get out of here! I have to-"

"Will you quiet down, kid?" The voice startles me, and I stop, backing up from the wall.

"Who are you?" I ask. "Why am I in here? And why is it so dark?"

"I'm a guard."

"That didn't answer my questions," I say, rolling my eyes.

"Kid, you know damn well why you're here. You're bein' kept out o' the way while the autopsy's goin' on." I can't put my finger on the guard's accent, but that obviously isn't the most important thing right now.

"How long have I been out?"

The guard sighs. "'Bout three hours, I'd say. Shame, the sedative was supposed to keep you under until the autopsy was over." He sounds really annoyed, but he just let me know that Zim still has time. I would hug him if I weren't locked in here.

I don't respond, instead checking my coat pockets. I'd grabbed my phone back from Membrane while we were back in the first room, so it should be in my coat.

And, my coat's gone. Great.

My arms fall to my sides, slapping against my legs in frustration. "You still haven't told me why it's so dark." The guard's unknowingly given me information before, maybe I'll get lucky again.

"Can't have anyone finding some weird way of escaping," he answers. "Obviously there ain't gonna be any vents or nothin', but trust me, people have done some crazy stuff in attempts to get out. One of 'em chipped at the wall with their fingernails. Somehow they didn't break."

A chip? I rub my hands around on the walls, making sure to get from the floor to the ceiling, which isn't too hard, considering they're less than two arms length away from each other.

On the third wall, near the top left, I feel an inward curve, and move both of my hands toward it, feeling around, checking to see if there's any possibility that I could use it as a means of escape.

It seems like no one's attempted to fix it since it was made, since the chipped concrete is still sharp and coarse. I smile, feeling a bit of hope. Except for the fact that I've bitten off my fingernails more times than I can count. It helps me focus when I'm thinking, but god dammit if it isn't annoying as hell, especially now, when I'd need them the most.

Instead of making the hopeless attempt of clawing at the wall, I check my jeans pockets to see if I have anything. Anything at all. But my pockets are all empty, bringing me back to square one. The walls may as well be in perfect condition.

I ram my arm against the wall in frustration, and for the first time, the cool of the concrete surprises me. Of course, I know that I don't have my coat on, but my arms are exposed, which reminds me that the bandages on my arms are gone. I'd taken them off a week ago, just using my coat to keep them from being reopened. But now, they may be my ticket out.

Again, I have basically no fingernails, so I can't pick the scabs open. But... the hole in the wall... the coarse concrete... Ugh, fuck my life.

Reluctantly, I lift my arm to the chipped wall. I stand there for a few moments, trying to argue with myself, and convince myself not to do this. There's got to be another way, right? But one thought of Zim, being sliced open, helpless to do anything as he's killed slowly...

My arm lowers itself.

"Gah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck me!" The pain is almost unbearable. It's worse than when the cuts were actually afflicted. The dirty wall and the sudden slice had caused it to worsen, and I'm left on the floor, slamming my 'good' arm against the concrete, trying to cancel out the pain.

"What's going on in there?" The guard shouts, his voice panicky. "Are you okay?"

"My arm," I yell. "Gah, fuck! I cut my arm on something!" It isn't a total lie, though my tone indicates that I have no clue what happened.

A sudden burst of light causes me to slam my eyes shut, again using my 'good' arm to shield my face from the sudden glow. It probably isn't even that bright, but having been in pure darkness for what seems like an hour has taken a toll on my retinas. I open one eyelid slowly, showing me that my arm is almost entirely covered in blood, and as the guard pulls me off of the floor, I can feel it seeping into my shirt. The burst of cool air that had come with the opening of the door had also begun to sting the cut, further worsening the pain.

Breathing heavily, I'm escorted through the building once again, twisting through hallways and pushing through doors until we're in a bright white room. I don't remember lying down, but I'm on some sort of examination table when I snap into focus, and there's a nurse cleaning my arm. I wince as the cut is rubbed at repeatedly, and once the bleeding has miraculously stopped, the nurse wraps some more bandages around my arm.

"You're going to need stitches," she says, sounding regretful. I can tell she's sincere in saying that she doesn't want to give me stitches as much as I don't want to receive them. Either way, I'm not getting stitches, because I've finally opened my eyes fully, and there's a vent right above the table.

As soon as the nurse leaves, I push myself up. The pain in my arm has lessened to a dull throb, so I manage to ignore it as I press at the vent, eventually detaching it and climbing up. I spend precious seconds replacing the vent before I crawl away quietly in search of Zim. Hopefully I still have enough time to save him.

A few minutes pass before I see a deserted room below me, and, just my luck, it's the staff room. I drop down, searching for any uniform that may belong to someone who didn't show up today. Finally, I find a locker hanging open, labeled with the name 'Dave', that has a uniform still inside. I slip it on quickly, glad that the sleeves and gloves cover my bandaged arm. I walk out of the room, hoping that no one knows that 'Dave' wasn't at work today.

Everything is chaos out here. There are scientist running all over the place, and I can only assume that they're looking for me. I'm not where I'm supposed to be, and Membrane, being the head scientist, could have issued a search. I could ruin this for him.

Pretending to rush around like everyone else, I start to check doors around the building. Most of them have windows on the doors that I can look through, and those that don't have signs on them. My legs are getting tired, I've been running for almost ten minutes. I'm nowhere near where I started. However, the chaos may mean that I have more time before Zim dies. 

I need to hurry, or that opportunity may be gone soon.