Blood-stained Secrets
Chapter 4
Thank-you all for you're support and all the wonderful reviews ^-^ I never expected anyone to actually like this, this being my first story and all. Thank you guys soooo much :3
PS. The guy in here is NOT Dempsey, just so you know. Even thought he may have similar characteristics, its not him.
The man was an American, roughly in his early thirties. His shaggy blond hair matted and hung down in his face. His once handsome face scarred and cut. He had on a plain, white tee-shirt and torn blue-jeans, blood splattered his clothes. Richtofen inserted one of the keys that hung from the key-chain into the lock that held the door shut and gave it a sharp twist. At the sound of the door unlocking the man sat up in the bed quickly and turned around to look at the door, his cloudy blue eyes never leaving the handle. The doctor pulled the door open and at the sight of the crazed doctor standing in the doorway the man leaped out of the bed with a growl and lunged at his captor. He came within two feet of grabbing Richtofen's throat when he suddenly fell tho the floor, the heavy shackles attached to his legs that kept him chained to the bed tripping him. Richtofen merely smirked as the mans chin met the unforgiving concrete with a crack. The American struggled to get up, weak with hunger and dehydration, but was forced back to the ground by the doctors boot resting between his shoulder blades.
"Stupid American." Richtofen chided in his sickly-sweet voice as he pulled the injector out of his coat pocket, the clear fluid sloshing around in the container. The man turned his head to look up at the doctor, seeing the needle in his grasp. His eyes widened as he struggled in vain to get up, to get away from this crazy psychopathic man. But Richtofen grabbed both his arms with on hand and held then behind his back and knelt beside him. Before he even had time to process what was going on the doctor plunged the needle into the mans neck, forcing its contents into his veins.
The man tried to scream but no sound came out. Richtofen had released his grip on his arms and rose from his position next to the man, looking down at him with an evil grin. The man slowly tried to stand up but the room was beginning to spin around him; the drug was already kicking in. He stumbled and reached out, trying to steady himself and gripped the side of the bed. A wave of nausea washed over him as he resisted the urge to pass out or throw up, or both. But just as he got himself into a standing position, the room became a giant blur, his knees shaking with the effort of trying to remain standing. He sunk to the ground still holding on to the bed frame, attempting to get his eyes to focus.
He lifted his eyes to see the blurry image of the insane doctor placing the injector back in his pocket; his piercing green eyes never leaving the man. Looking down at him with morbid curiosity. All of his patients had similar reactions to it: dizziness, impaired vision, muscle spasms and for a few, even hallucinations. The man groaned as he began to see double, the room spinning faster and faster. He thought he was going to be sick. The Nazi slowly approached him and the man attempted, once again, to stand up but his legs could no longer support him and fell forward, catching himself just as he was about to hit the floor. He looked up again just as the doctor's boot made contact with the side of his head and he hit the floor with a sickening crack, the back of his head colliding with the solid concrete and he blacked out.