Owned by Him (rewrite)

20. No Tongue to Bite

As the seasons changed, the fields and roadsides were awakened with the flamboyant colors of changing leaves. The sunlight filtering through trees in a broad daylight, unusual wildflowers blooming of bur marigolds, heath asters, and purple prairie clovers. I watched the scenery from the window of the car where I was seating inside.

Earlier today, I was ready to go to work when one of Marvel's subordinates appeared by my bedroom door, dragging me into the car. He said I wasn't allowed to refuse, knowing who told him to do it, I did as he instructed.

Without any further explanation, he drove me in silence and before I realized, I had arrived at an unknown house, talking with an unknown man.

"Nice to meet you, I guess?"

He; an old man who was sitting across my seat, was Plainn Jeremia. He spoke to me in a friendly tone while smiling, his gesture welcoming.

Although without a typical scientist-like hairstyle or a familiar knee-length white coat, that middle-aged man is a doctor.

Under a modern house, there was a hidden basement connected by the garage. A metal-based and soundproof room with a strong smell of anesthesia was Doctor Plainn's clinic. Kidney, heart, brain; any kind of human organs were inside the jars that contained a mixture of formaldehyde dissolved in a solution of water, displayed neatly inside a cabinet in the locked room behind his chair, divided by a wall of thick, transparent glass.

Whoever sitting on the patient seat where I'm sitting right now will be able to see that peculiar sight.

Doctor Plainn is a physician and medical professional who operates on the wrong side of the law, or at least the illegal side such as performing organ transplants, transforming DNA profiles, transplanting fingerprints, eyeballs, and the likes. As a black market doctor, he's been working both under licensed and unlicensed, and is famous for the practice of performing face-changes for prominent criminals and conglomerates.

"I don't have all day. Give me a prescription for tranquilizers and I will leave," I said, ready to get up. "Even benzodiazepine works just fine with me."

I have difficulty sleeping, so I need medication to help my muscles relax and increase my sleeping time.

Since I did this mission, the sudden change of environmental atmosphere gave me certain pressure and I found myself unable to stay asleep because of anxiety.

"No, I can't," Plainn rejected and I didn't understand why.

"Aren't you an illegal doctor? Why can't you give your illegal patient a few milligrams of benzodiazepine?" I insisted.

"I can't," the doctor kept rejecting, trying to explain properly this time. "That drug changes the chemistry of the brain. It's difficult to recover once you're addicted."

When he fixed his glasses, I noticed he had a slight tint of purple shade in the eyes. It was the first time I met people with such eye color, likely because the parents carried mutation genetics.

"I can't do something that means damage to you. Marvel will come killing me if I don't take good care of his favorite person," he continued with a tease and I didn't respond.

What a load of nonsense.

But, from what Plainn said the moment I got here, it was the first time Marvel ever made his workers visit this place when he usually just let them go to some local hospitals. It surprised even the doctor; the way Marvel did this because he didn't want to expose me.

"You have acute anemia. I will give you a treatment to restore the hemodynamics of your vascular systems to create new red blood cells," explained the doctor, opening the green curtains to reveal the patient bed behind it. "Lie down."