The Shell of Casper

- 11 - Give Me All Your Pills

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When someone loses access to their sight, how can they tell if they are awake or asleep? Is there a way to differentiate the two? Casper could see while he dreamed, or maybe he just dreamed that he couldn't see. A dark pit inside him whispered that there was no way to tell the two worlds apart. He hoped that this was a terrible nightmare that he would awaken from in a heartbeat.

When the sound of the door whined through the endless silence, Casper stiffened, unsure if he had been sleeping moments ago, or if he had solely been staring at the black machine over his eyes. It was frustrating, the not-knowing of anything.

It must have been hours that they had left him there. Not only had they strapped this hardware to his face and pinned him down in a chair, they had left him here for... he had no way of telling how long it had been.

"Take this off me right now." Casper began, hoping to throw off whoever had entered. Perhaps they had a pistol aimed at him square in the face, at his heart, or maybe just a foot if they were cruel. But he didn't give a damn anymore.

"That is no way to speak to a superior." It was the voice from the room, the man who had scolded Ren. Casper's face twitched in anger, his lips twisting into a frown.

"Take it off me."

"No." The man snarled, done with his temper already. "You wouldn't want that."

"Why the hell not?" Casper made an attempt to lean forward in a gesture of interrogation. The restraints on his hand and feet were exhausting when they tugged him back.

"Do you want to kill me?"

Casper fell quiet, his face screwing up into confusion. The smell of sweetness was irritating and fogging his senses.

"Do you want to kill me?" The man repeated, intensity burning off of his words. "And then run away from here and kill everyone else?"

"No." Casper stated obviously, his fingernails scraping the arm of the chair. "I want to take this off and look at something other than nothing, not commit a mass homicide."

"You're not looking at nothing, you're looking at a screen." He added factually, sitting down on something across from where Casper forcefully faced. This conversation was inevitable at this point. But... Casper was curious. Not to mention that this psychotic man just completely brushed aside a potential explanation to the correlation between the device on his head, and blatant murder.

"Can you turn it on?" Casper questioned carefully, as there could be a chance that this man (yes, the man who was keeping him, another human being, tied down) could have some rationality and sense deep down.

"I would, but light can be dangerous for your eyes and vision after surgery." The man grunted huskily, his voice scratchy. It reminded Casper of his mother's, her raspy words coming hand in hand with the burning smell of cigarettes on her skin. "No need to have you go blind on day three."

Day three.

It had been three days? Three days since what? How had they gotten him here? Casper had no recollection of when they might have taken him. While he was asleep in bed, or pumping fuel into his car at the gas station, or picking up bread and milk for his mother at the corner store, or even while whistling for Huck to come home before dark? He had no idea when they had gotten their hands around him. And so many other people too, such as Ren Mura. How many other people did he know here? Casper's mind rattled with thoughts as he tried to put together an incomplete riddle.

"Has your brain just finally turned on now?" The man broke the pause with a cocky chuckle. "Did you find your courtesy while you're at it?"

"Surgery." Casper echoed, lifting his head. Using his one unbound hand, Casper touched the machine strapped to his face again, grazing its smooth surface with his fingertips. He blinked beneath its coverage. His eyes didn't hurt at all. "What did you do to me?"