Stolen From Superman-The Sequel To Waiting for Superman

Chapter 36- Preparation

A sharp banging noise wakes me from my daze, jolting me to reality harshly. I whip my head around, my neck feeling increasingly sore and weak with every movement. But I can't help but feel panicked. I don't know what's coming. They could be standing over me with a knife and I wouldn't know it. But I force myself to take a deep breath, my throat burning. I don't know what's coming. But I'm almost more preoccupied with the dull, aching feeling in my heart. Longing to go back to that dream. Wishing it was real. Praying, even, and I'm not religious. To return to the peace of my mind. I hear a low chuckle, and my heart jumps, fear of the unknown taking over again. But then the blindfold is yanked off my head, and the light in the room almost blinds me, despite the lack of it. The florescent lights seem extraordinarily harsh, and I blink furiously, eyes watering. I'm used to darkness. Everything seems to dance around me, clouded by my dehydration and weakness. It's hard to hold my head up. I just want to let go. But I keep struggling towards consciousness, knowing I'll die if I let myself fall. I can barely make out Steven's face, which still swims before my eyes. It seems alien compared to my dark isolation. My mind can't focus on any other part of them room, as hard as I try. I'm losing mental function. I can't comprehend what the room looks like, or where I am. It's terrifying. Steven walks behind me and unties the ropes that bind my hands. This seems strange at first, but then I think I know exactly what he's doing. He knows I'm not going anywhere at the moment. So he's going to let me recover a bit. Who knows what's coming after that? I groan as my arms swing forward, the air stinging the cuts on my wrists and my muscles feeling like they tear for all of the stiffness. My joints pop and air hisses between my teeth with a sort of pain that also brings relief. Feeling starts to return to my fingers as I wiggle them experimentally.

Steven watches me for a moment. "Enjoying your stay?" he asks politely, smiling coyly. I have no strength to answer him, or cuss him out, or any of the things I'd like to do at the moment. So I just manage my best glare of hatred and contempt that I can muster. I fight to keep my eyes open even as I do this. He tilts his head, pressing his lips together in a smug smirk. Then he reaches to grab something off of a cart beside him. I can't make out what it is. But that becomes very clear when he jabs it into my arm, hitting a vein with scary accuracy. I wince, the needle firmly in place. He lets go and adjusts whatever he wants to go into me. I feel the cold liquid start to seep into my blood, bringing a cool sort of relief. It has to be water, or electrolytes. Something to hydrate me. Because, of course, they can't let me die. That would ruin the whole idea of causing me and Jordan the most suffering possible. I shut my eyes for a moment, enjoying the return of life-giving hydration to my body. He nudges my shoulder roughly, and hands me another glass of water, barking "Drink it." For a moment, I consider not doing it, and letting myself drift away, just for the satisfaction of knowing he failed. But he'd force me somehow. So I bring the glass to my lips, and as soon as the water touches my tongue, I can't stop drinking. Before I know it I've gulped down the entire thing, my throat soothed by the cold liquid. I gasp for air when it's gone. He still watches me, seeming to enjoy this display of desperation. I decide I'm not going to be that eager again. I won't give him that pleasure. But now it isn't so hard to stay awake. I can feel my eyes open a little wider, and clarity wash over my mind. Amazing what a little water can do. My now focused eyes search the room intently, finally getting to sate my curiosity about my prison. As I thought, the room appears to be a basement. Small, and relatively dark, with only a few limited spectrum lights in the center. The corners are damp and the walls are cement. Various things are against the walls and around me. An IV bag, and in the far corner, a cart that seems to have a set of delicate knives and tools arranged on it. That should frighten me more, but I've been expecting pain this entire time. My pain tolerance for cuts is rather high. I used to inflict them upon myself, even. What concerns me more is the camera and tripod set up to my left. The idea that they're always watching me, or that they could give footage to the outside world, scares me more than the prospect of torture. I'm not sure what Jordan would do if he saw this. I'm not sure I even want to think about it. I shiver, and avert my eyes, glancing back at Steven.

Joey walks in behind him with a plate of food, pushing aside a heavy black curtain that blocks the view of whatever entrance is there. It's only some bread and ham, but it's more than I've had in 4 days. I ignore the soreness and pain in my arms and take it, forcing myself to eat slowly. I don't want to let them know how hungry I really am. The food in no way sates my hunger completely, but it's something. I feel even more alert, the IV still pumping fluids into my bloodstream. I roll my neck, and stretch my arms and legs, working out some of the knots and stiffness that has set in. They still watch, not seeming to care that I'm having some sort of relief from this hell. This break might not be a good thing. They're probably only doing this to prepare me for something worse. To bring me back from the brink and hurt me even more. And, if I'm right, it has something to do with those knives

A/N: Not dead! Yay! Nothing god to come for her thought ;) Anyways, thanks for the support on the last chapter, lets see it again! Slap dat vote button if you enjoyed, and drop a comment!

In other news, I finished my first AP test today! Thank god its over!!!

-Argo