Chapter 3
"How is he?"
The technician looked up. "He's just lying there mumbling to himself."
"Is it time to dose them?"
"Nearly. Stick around, General, and you can watch. It is quite fascinating."
"Oh I don't plan on missing this." Ross grinned.
Tony was jerked awake by the same hissing sound that filled the room the previous nights. The noise was beginning to make him anxious even though it didn't sound like more than an air compressor in his workshop. Those bastards are conditioning me! He thought.
The blackness of the room seemed to cloud over into a dull gray blurring the shadows that were cast through the window slot.
The arc seemed to pulse under his shirt. Is it going out?! It stabilized. Tony tapped it with the back of his knuckles causing it to send out little flickers of pain that radiated across his chest. The first time he experienced the feeling it was painful but it has slowly become a reassuring sensation. I'm still here.
He tried to blink away the fog but to no avail. The hissing stopped and the room grew quiet. All moisture seemed to be drained out of his body and replaced with fire.
Tony found himself standing in broad daylight. He was surrounded by sand. There were tanks that flanked either side of him. And there was a whisky glass. His dad was on his left. He's so tall! No I'm very small. Very small. I'm nothing. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he tried not to flinch. His father didn't so much lean over to talk to him as he just looked down at a sharper angle. "Boy, pay attention."
Boom.
A sharp sensation shook the upper portion of his body. "Anthony- Anthony, open your eyes."
Tony tried to rub the fog from his vision but it felt like shards of glass were stabbing his corneas.
Howard grabbed his shoulders and forced him upright again. "Open your eyes. You look like a little girl cowering there. It's only a missile."
It was only a missile.
He created that missile.
Tony felt a pressure behind his eyes begin to release and his vision became clear, well more clear. He couldn't really tell because of the blackness of the room. The bars on the window looked more secure now so he guessed that meant his vision was good.
What's that sound? A wheezing sound was echoing around the room. Oh, it's me.
Blood was rushing through his head.
Breathe. Am I breathing? The wheezing turned into huffing that slowed down into mechanical breaths that came and went in intervals of ten and fifteen seconds respectively.
It was real. I was real. What the fuck?!
"Sir, his heart rate spiked to 183 bpm this time. I suggest we take a break before his next dose if we care to prolong the test subject." The tech said to the Doctor.
Ross stopped them. "No. Keep going."
"Sir..." the administrator started.
Ross ran a hand through his grey hair exposing a wrinkled battleground of scars across his face. He looked toward the man, daring him to contend.
The light in Tony's chest began to pulsate. His heart was beating too fast. Hissing filled the chamber again and he began to panic, but there was no cloud of chemicals descending from the ceiling. Tony's arc began to level out. The pulsating light stopped and formed into a dull glow behind the orange jumpsuit that draped around the arc.
"The gas chamber needs to be reloaded manually. Any volunteers?" The tech said, looking pointedly at Ross.
It looks like I'm in charge of my dreams tonight. They probably won't be much different. Tony rubbed his hands over his face, noticing that his goatee was becoming less distinct among the stubble.
He laid back and closed his eyes wondering if it was night outside.
