Love Bites ~ Craig of the Dead au ~ Tricia x Karen fan fiction [COMPLETE]

38

For hours I have been stuck in a small, pure black room in the lab.

My last contact with a human was when I bit the assistant who was injecting me with a thick, bubbling brown liquid that burns my veins as it flows through them. I was knocked clean out by the assistant's fist.

Even when the assistant had the room's lights on to see where he was injecting me, I couldn't see anything around me. This must be some kind of testing room, so they wouldn't bother decorating it.

All of the equipment must be outside in case I try to use something to attack my captors.

I can't believe we were so dumb to get caught up in this.
I mean, it was obviously too easy to find the lab, how could we be so stupid and actually believe we could just walk in with Maphesto and back out with a cure.

I haven't seen my friends since we were split up at least a day ago. They must be going through one of the disgusting experiments too.

I just hope they're giving Karen the least painful one.

There's murmuring from behind the door but not loud enough for me to hear anything. They must be talking about the next step of my 'treatment'.

It's all they do. Talk. Discuss. Plan.

"I can fucking hear you!" I yell, "Just get this shit over with. Kill me, torture me. Do whatever the fuck you want. I'm fucking done."

The murmuring stops.

Light floods into the room momentarily as the assistants enter the room. Five of them. Too many. I can't take them all.

"How are you feeling?" A female one asks, sitting down in front of me. She's faking it. She doesn't care.

I spit in her face. Normally, I would feel awful for spitting on someone. It's a disgusting act and people who do it are gross, but at the moment, all of my fucks are gone. She fucking deserves it.

"Get me a vial, quick," She wipes the spit onto her fingers then puts it into a vial, passed to her by another assistant, "Thank you, Tricia. We can use that for our experiment."

Crap.

"How are you feeling?" She asks again, sounding slightly annoyed now, "Hungry? Tired? Suddenly energised?"

"I feel nothing." I reply truthfully.

"Oh," She sounds disappointed, "Jonesy, can you prepare the next needle?"

Jonesy, one of the lab assistants, nods and hurries out of the room.

"This one will hurt a lot more than the first one. You will be in so much pain that you'll be unable to move for days," The woman explains, her voice full of glee, "This is my favourite stage."

Before I can make a comment that would most likely end up getting me punched, Jonesy returns with the needle.

Instead of being a bubbling brown liquid, it is an off-white substance with a slight red tint. He passes it to the female assistant.

"Restrain her." She commands.

I don't even bother fighting. What's the point? Despite this, the other assistants grab my limbs and pin me to the floor.
A hand wraps around my neck, making me unable to breathe. As I fight for air, the needle is pushed into my arm.

I feel the liquid running down my veins and the needle being roughly pulled out. Unable to scream, I wheeze feebly.

"Alright, we're done here," the woman hands the used needle to Jonesy, "We'll see you in twenty four hours, Tricia."

The other assistants release me and I immediately gulp in as much air as I can.