PLEASE NOTE, I DO NOT OWN THIS STORYLINE, WITH THE EXCEPTION OF SOME CHARACTERS, ALL OTHER CHARACTERS AND PLOT ARE BASED ON "THE PEDESTRIAN" AND BELONG TO RAY BRADBURY.
The car halted. Startled, Leonard peered through the front window, catching a glimpse of his location. "Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies" was inscribed on the large white walls of the building. From the look of it, there wasn't a single flaw. Even during the dead of the night all the details could be seen. The impeccable trimmed grass, the tall crystal windows placed in perfect symmetry and the silver doors located just in the middle.
"We have reached your destination" the metallic voice called. As if in queue, the steel door opened, signaling for him to go out. He stepped out of the vehicle and immediately a figure appeared before him.
"Hello , please, follow me in."
"T-this must be a misunderstanding, you see, I've done nothing." Leonard argued as the two walked in.
"It's okay, we'll take care of you." The man´s voice was dangerously sweet.
"My house is just a few blocks away, I can walk back and save you the paperwork."
The man stopped, making Leonard almost bump into him. "Walk?"
Leonard´s eyes poped out, the realization of his mistake hitting him like a brick to the face. Before he could speak again the man continued to stroll down the long, empty hallway.
As they walked a feeling of uneasiness crept upon Leonard´s neck. Everything seemed so perfect, the floor and walls clear of any stain. Even the air felt strange, it had an antiseptic scent that ignited discomfort.
The pair turned right, leading to an endless corridor of rooms. All except the last were unlit, there were no other patients in the center. The man motioned for Mr. Mead to enter. They sat down face to face in an interrogation table.
"Hello, my name is Freyman, sorry for not introducing myself earlier." His long bony hand stretched out towards Leonard. "So, Mr. Mead, do you know why you're in this facility?"
He blinked for a second before answering. "No."
"It seems you have been showing some signs of regressive tendencies."
"Regressive as in?" Leonard chose his words carefully.
It was evident that had a small temper and Leonard´s curiosity was getting to his nerves.
"Well", he clicked on his pen, "You´ve been going out for some midnight strolls haven't you?"
"Didn't realize walking was a crime."
Dr. Freyman dodged the comment and went on with his questioning. "Mr. Mead, is there any purpose to this little adventures of yours?"
Leonard remained silent. The air thickened by the second, the clicking of the pen intensified.
"Mr. Mead, we´re here to help you and by doing so we are expanding our knowledge, so I hope you understand that we need to get as much information as possible."
Silence. Dr. Freyman sighed, standing up he headed towards the door. As he reached for the handle he turned around and said. "We´ll start your treatment first thing in the morning. Members of our staff will be here to pick you up."
Leonard was left alone in the colorless, bland room. With just a bed and a black TV screen.
The next morning, two men and the doctor arrived at Leonard´s door, just in schedule.
"Take him to the rearrangement room. I'll see to it in a minute, have him ready." commanded as he placed two rubber gloves on his hands.
Leonard was dragged to a room , but compared to the others, this one seemed different. It was located on the very back of the building. Hidden away like a secret.
Inside, he was pinned down to a chair, his stomach twirled his mind rambled with thoughts. Beads of sweat formed around his forehead, even though the temperature around the room was rather chilly.
Minutes later, entered.
"It´ll be just a little pinch." Dr. Freyman explained in his sweet deranged voice.
"No. I can't, please don´t." Leonard pleaded, despair in his voice. "Let me go!"
But the strains around his arms and legs were holding him down like an anchor on a boat. The bright light directed to his face blocked out most of his vision. But he caught a glimpse of the device in ´s hands. A crown-like structure with a perfect set of needles on each side. Each having a long silver wire that connected to it.
Leonard´s struggles were useless, two pairs of hands appeared out of the light and pinned him down. Panic flashed upon his eyes as the device got closer. The needles penetrated through his skull, the movement stopped when the tips could caress the surface of his brain . If it weren't for the sound proof walls around the room, Leonards piercing cry of agony would be heard from miles away.
He contorted like a squiggly worm with each zap. Blurs of images flashed upon his eyes. The visions became clear. Every stroll he ever took for the past years darted through his mind. His movement stopped. He had reached the lucid state.
The scents, colors, the touch of the concrete ground on his feet suddenly seemed so real. studied the images by looking at the monitor connected to the device.
Zap
Gone. The images burned out. Leonard´s eyes twitched, he convulsed once again. "No, no, no." he mumbled.
Suddenly, the pitch black monitor lit up. Leonard´s memories were ghosting back into his mind.
"He's fighting back." A worried female voice called.
"Increase the charge."
"Doctor, the subject´s chance of survival will decrease."
"I said, increase the charge."
"But-"
Dr. Freyman directed his glare towards the nurse. "Do I need to repeat myself?"
Without another word said, the nurse pressed the buttons on the wired machine. What followed seemed like a blur to Leonard. Muffled voices whispered around him.
"Vitals? Stable. Brain signals? Manageable."
But the words that followed he heard like crystal.
"Diagnosis?"
"Complete psychosis, no chance of saving. Is no longer needed for further research."
"Final predicament?"
"Disposable."
Leonard´s body laid unmoved in a wheelchair. Mead´s body and soul drained from any sign of humanity. Two figures pulled him away, his stare remained blank as a single tear poured down his cheek.