The never ending kind

3- Clinical

Channeling some spy movies, I tried messing with the many straps holding me to Hulk's bed, finding them ridiculous just in their construction. It was hard to lift my head at such an angle for a prolonged time, but I was able to see that the straps used to hold me down definitely were not the normal kind seen in movies. Even the Batman movies. Nope, these ones had padding and straps, but they also had a large amount of metal reinforcing them. It was like they expected a 'Hulk's Second Coming' or something. Sadly, the padding, straps, and metal encapsulating my body made it impossible to get off or squirm in, even with me being double jointed. With this thought in mind, my butt and shoulders started to hurt from the prolonged position.

I huffed out, wondering when someone would come check on me, hopefully not that guy again. What had I been thinking about before the guy came in anyway? Frowning, my mind spun off trying to remember what brought me so being stuck in this situation once more, but became quickly frustrated when it only slipped through my fingers. Damn that lab coat guy for ruining my memory moment.

And then I found myself utterly bored. What does one do when they're tied down and possibly either insane or headed there? Two choices came to me. First, the guy seemed to think it almost impossible for me to have even the vaguest form of intelligence or coherence, so perhaps calling out would do some good... Eventually, "Hello out there! I'm pretty sure I'm at least partially sane now if I wasn't before! I'd like to know why I'm here! Hellllllooooooo?!"

Well, five minutes of that got boring real fast. Onto the next choice. Yep, my all time favorite past time when I was alone or thought no one would hear me, I sang. At first, I was nervous and embarrassed, but it's not like anyone even came in after the first couple songs. And I wasn't above singing things like Sora's song from Escaflowne or some of the other opening songs from Anime's like Naruto and Gankutsuou... Then I went onto Jean Jacque Burnel, Lemonade by Chris Rice, and I was just gearing up for a club song from Basshunter or maybe Guster instead... Train's Drops of Jupiter? I started having trouble deciding what I should choose next because I was sure I would be musically tapped out after the next song choice.

Just when I was going to sing Jet's 'are you gonna be my girl', the same guy opened the door with a click of the tumbler being released, "Welcome back."

He shuddered, the items on his little metal stray making their presence known. Something about this was starting to give me a distinct feeling of discomfort, my eyes more focused on the guy's odd reticence to my existence. I found myself sniffing, a smell making itself known that I instinctually recoiled at. He held the tray in one hand as he held his foot in the doorway trying to pull the keys from the other side of the door. I noticed that the lock worked on both sides, but only with a key, and the door was quite thick. My stomach dropped a lead weight, and I had a bad feeling about what was going on. 

When the guy looked at me, something in his eyes had me feeling as though these were the last few moments I would ever get again. I growled loudly, stopping abruptly in surprise, "Hm, well, that's new."

Looking up at the guy, his face had almost instantly taken on a waxy visage and his head quickly jerked to the left to see down the hall. His hand tried to pull the the key out with more force and he pulled on a strained smile at whoever he was looking at down the hall, as if trying to unsuccessfully don a mask to portray nothing out of the ordinary and failing miserably. 

"Dr. Braum, didn't I ask that you tell me when he woke up?" I heard a man question lightly, a hidden steel in his voice.

At first this Dr. Braum held the tray in the room, "I'm just as surprised at you to see him awake."

"Bullshit!" My voice wasn't angry, only calling out his obvious lie.

I listened as whoever it was neared this Dr. Braum, standing just outside of the doorway. I heard a few prominent sniffing sounds before a strong growl emanated from whoever it was outside the door. Dr. Braum gulped loudly, "And what were you going to do while visiting this patient?"

The man's voice had taken on a quiet and deathly low tone, the man starting to stagger back before moving to come into the room and shut the door. Obviously that was moot when he couldn't close it with the guy's hand on the door. Instead, he grabbed at something on his tray that hadn't fallen and pinged onto the floor, beginning to move towards me. 

"Oh shit, you have got to be kidding me," I was strapped down and had been working on the restrains for a while. There was no way I was going to get them to budge, so fought the reflex to do so, instead making sure to pay very close attention to the guy that was probably going to try to kill me.

Well, until the man grabbed his wrist with the syringe in it so hard that he yelled and dropped it, "Is this why our conversion rates have been so low with a high mortality rate and an even higher rabidity rate? Has it been you? Were you killing or making them go... Insane?!"

Just then, the door opened, revealing another man that caught Dr. Braum when he was roughly pulled around and thrust to him, "Dungeons. Don't kill him, but he's probably the reason why we've had so many... Such a high unsuccessful conversion rate."

"Chaplain!" The man then called down the hall as the doctor was lead away, hysterical until the sound was abruptly cut off.

I heard another voice's response and someone jogging up to the door, "Sir?"

"I want you to round up all hospital staff," There was a moment of quiet, "Now."

"Yes, sir!" Footsteps started a quick pace back down the hall.

"And have Ivory Force come and help you!"

My neck was getting tired by the time his sharp, light grey, almost... Luminescent, eyes settled on me before focusing on the floor. He bent down, snatching whatever was dropped on the ground, sniffing intermittently, a low thrumming growl just barely reaching my ears all the while. When he rose with the equipment in his tight grasp, he hardly bothered to glance my way as he turned to the door he still had held open, "Be right back."

The door closed behind him, and my head dropped tiredly back onto the pillow. It had been hard holding my head up at that angle for so long, "Great. Alone in the room again, still strapped down to Hulk's bed, and possibly still in danger of being euthanized."

The door soon opened once more, and a tantalizing scent wafted in, "Sorry for the wait." He came in again, this time carrying a plastic tray, and uncovering it to allow my perusal as he walked closer. "Figured you might be hungry."

I looked at the plate, a huge steaming steak resting in it's own juices and nothing more, "I'm not a big meat person, but I gotta say that looks mighty tasty."

"Thank God you're not a vegetarian," he muttered.

I couldn't help but laugh at his random response, numb mind watching as he covered it once more and set it down on a counter connected to the wall. Hopefully he was going to remove the restraints, "How do you feel about hunting and eating bambi?"
"Well, my only response to that would be he damn well better taste good," It was a crazy question to ask, and probably a crazier answer to give, but that, oddly enough, was my instinctive thought. We both laughed as he carefully took out the IV's and began unlocking and unstrapping me. I couldn't hide the hysteria that tinged my laugh as the fact that I was almost murdered on top of everything else started to hit me.

I held it back, worried he wouldn't finish unstrapping me if I started balling. As it was, when my arms were finally freed, I covered my face as large tears slipped out. When I had calmed, I found myself curled on my side still releasing small sniffles. I peeked over my hands to the guy now leaning against the built-in counter, his face stoic but his eyes holding a tinge of worry, discomfort and helplessness. Obviously he hadn't known what to do when it came to crying people.

Uncovering my face a bit more, I spoke mostly into my hands, "W-why was I strapped down? Where am I? Why am I here, and why was I almost m-murdered?!"