The Ghost

Chapter 13 - Theatre

As Ryan watched Falconi disappear, he began to run over what he'd just heard. What had Falconi meant? Why was he so important? And tests? He needed to get out of his current predicament and quick.

His hands and feet were secured with cable ties. He wasn't in any fit state to do anything other than sit. But he was alone. Anybody and everybody who meant anything to him were gone. Mike, Lexi, Michelle. It had all happened so fast yet the days since had felt like a lifetime. He'd had time to think and no longer wanted to be with Michelle. Not yet anyway. Revenge and vengeance filled his head. Falconi. Yes. He had to die. But his guard dog Sarge. His death would be most pleasing. Ryan imagined wiping that smug grin off his face. Literally. A razor blade. One near slice and the lower lip would be severed clean off. Then a much slower removal of the upper lip. He'd beg and plead but Ryan would look him dead in the eye and take it anyway. Smile now you son of a bitch. Then he'd move onto the lump hammer. Smash those hands up until he was begging to be put out of his misery. For Mike. The hammer was for Mike.

"Hey, what you smiling at you fucking weirdo?"

Ryan was back in the room. He stared into Sarge's eyes, unable to hide the joy his daydream had brought. He had an almost maniacal look about him.

"Boss, this guy's not looking too great."

It was true. Since Falconi had cleaned the blood away, Ryan's features were much clearer. His eyes had lost their sparkle. What were once piercing blue were now almost black. The eyeballs had sunken and his cheekbones had lost their fullness.

"Ah Ryan, sorry about that. Jeez. You look like shit." Falconi eyed him up and down. "Mmm. Didn't anticipate this. Sarge, get our patient to theatre."

Ryan didn't see the needle as it sank into his neck. When he regained consciousness he was in a small white room. A bright light shone overhead and he detected several bodies in the shadows.

"He's sedated as you requested and poses no immediate threat."

"Thanks doc. Do you have an update for me?"

Falconi seemed agitated as he waited for the doctor to answer.

"Well, Mr Falconi. First of all, the tests have proved conclusively that the invisibility is irreversible. Secondly, his body is showing signs of deterioration. I can't see him lasting the week out if it continues."

Falconi slammed his hand on the operating table sending the instruments flying across the room. "I'm too close. We're not losing another subject! Move him to Room 6."

"B-b-but sir, you know that the success rate currently stands at zero percent."

"Just fucking do it! I pay you to give me results. If I hear 'zero percent success rate' come out of your fucking mouth again, I'll stitch it shut myself."

"Very well." And with that, the doctor made his apologies and wheeled the prone patient out of the room and down the darkened corridor towards Room 6.