Team Fortress: Soaked Through

Chapter Eight: No Way Out

  Warning: The second part of this chapter is very disturbing. Gore, bodily fluids, and will being forcefully removed is present. Now, you may not care. However, if you have a phobia of gore, rats, being controlled or anxiety, depression, or a late bedtime, you may want to wait. Also, if you are tired, moody, or emotionally drained. Please wait until you are fully healthy and able before reading. Thank you.

   Sniper leaned back on a chair, a pipe hanging out of his mouth. He had yet to light it.

   "You've got some information, B.L.U. And, as long as ya tell us the truth, there won't be any trouble. We've already been too kind by lettin' you stick around until you could heal your wound. But you've got to hold up your side of the deal."

   The Blue Medic nodded, pulling a small vial of pinkish liquid from his lab coat.

   "Zhis," he said with renewed energy, "is vhat your Medic is running from. Zhe only difference is zhat I haven't used it yet. He obviously has."

   Demo put his elbows on his knees. "That must be one hell of a vial."

   "Don't believe me? Vell, Abriss, it is vhat's in the vial zhat is so important."

   Blue Medic held it up to the light, then took a syringe out of his pocket. Once he had filled it with the strange liquid, he made several whistles, which promptly called a dove to him. With a sudden movement, Blue Medic grabbed the dove and shoved the needle into its neck, holding tight against the squawking and squirming.

   "Don't vorry, it vill vear off vis such a primitive creature."

   Once the procedure was finished, he set the dove on the table. It started to walk about like normal, albeit with ruffled feathers. Then, with a jerk, the bird began to twist its head around, its eyes rolling about in its head. Cooing, then chirping, then screeches erupted from it. The dove would start to fly, then run head long into the table. This continued for fifteen minutes. Finally, the creature flopped down, exhausted but unharmed. Sniper and Demo looked at each other.

   "What just happened?" Sniper breathed, picking up the dove and holding it in his hands.

   Demo growled. "What are you getting at, ya freak?"

   The Blue Medic raised his eyebrows.

   "You are avare zhat your Medic and I are exactly zhe same? Furzermore, I sink you vould be better off being kind to me. I might be zhe only clue you have."

   Demo, once again defeated by logic, took to playing with his lighter. Sniper put the bird back down on the table.

   "What was in that vial?"

   "A chemical zhat brings back memories in qvick succession in order to achieve enlightenment zhrough meticulous analyzing of zhe mind."

   "In layman's terms?"

   "Vis zis, you can travel into your own mind and fight your fears head on, or diagnose a mental deformity. It's a sort of X-Ray for zhe psyche."

   Demo looked up again. "Let me guess - he injected that stuff into himself?"

   "Zhat is my current hyposesis," Blue Medic replied. "And zhe most likely. Medics are...troubled vhis zhere mind most of ze time, and zhis vas supposed to be zhe cure. But I'm afraid I may have created zhe poison. And so did he."

"But that bird went bonkers!" Sniper cried, a cold realization hitting him. "If he's up in his brain, then what is his body doing?"

Blue Medic grimaced. "His activity decreases, but he can vander. To zhe common person, he'll look drugged or under zhe influence. Vhat vorries me is zhat he von't notice external pain or stimuli. He could valk right into a car, or stumble onto train tracks..."