Author's note: As usual, I'll use italics to denote when Russian is spoken. Those italics will be within quotes, while direct thoughts will be in italics but not inside quotes.
Audio copy: You can listen to this story on my podcast: There Are Three of Me. It is read in Ep64 S4E11. You can find There Are Three of Me on Spotify, Google Podcasts, and .
Marvel Cinematic Universe
Strong
by Gabrielle Lawson
Asset. That was what they called him. They kept him in a room with a metal bench, a wooden chair and a small table. There was a door on one wall and a toilet in the corner.
He sat on the bench and stared at the door. The only interesting things in his day came through that door. Three times a day, it opened and someone brought in food. Food was mostly meat and potatoes, sometimes fruit. They also brought in two bottles of water each time. The person waited until he'd eaten every bite and drank at least half of one water bottle.
Once a day, another someone, in a white coat, came in and told him to do things. He showed him each thing once, then expected him to do them ten to fifteen times. He would jump, putting his legs out and his hands up, then jump again to bring his legs back in and his arms down to his sides. Or he would lift his body until he was just on his outstretched arms and toes and then lower himself almost to the floor before lifting again. Or he would lay on his back with his knees up, then sit up until his elbows touched his knees. At first all these things were difficult but each day they became easier. Though they made him thirsty so he was glad to have water.
After doing those things in his room, the man would take him to another area without walls and have him lift heavy things. He could lift heavier things with his metal arm than with his other one. Other people were there sometimes also lifting heavy things, but he noticed they didn't have a metal arm like he did.
As the other people lifted their heavy things, they talked to each other. He could hear them and understand their words. They talked about doing things after shift, about women, about getting drunk, about home, and about food. And they had names like Boris and Victor and Nikita.
No one talked to Asset about after shift or the other things. He didn't even know what 'after shift' meant. Did it mean night when all the lights went off? Asset didn't do the things they talked about. He didn't go to 'pub' or 'home.' He went to his room. Did those other men even have to sleep?
When the white-coated man—Did he have a name like Boris or one like Asset?—took him back to his room, he decided to ask. "What does 'after shift' mean? What is 'home?'"
The man just pushed a water bottle at him. "Drink."
He tried questions with different people for the next few days, but he was either ignored or slapped, or worse. Sometimes they had bars with blue rings. Then he was shocked. He stopped asking. But he'd come to understand that he wasn't like those other men who lifted heavy things. He was somehow less than them. He didn't understand why. Wasn't an asset something of value?
One day the man with the round face and round glasses returned. He came in with one of the white-coated men and watched as Asset was made to do the activities that made him thirsty.
"Good, good," the bespectacled man said in a different language than he'd been hearing. Asset wondered why he could understand it.
"His is no longer dehydrated or sleep-deprived, Dr. Zola."
"He is fully cognitive?" He was speaking to the white-coated man but Asset wondered why he didn't just ask him.
"Yes, though, since the machine, he is often confused by many things."
"To be expected," Zola responded. "Then I believe we are ready to begin." He turned and walked out the door.
"Come," the white-coated man said to Asset. Asset stood and followed him and Zola. He hoped this was a good thing they were beginning, something more interesting than activities, food, and lifting heavy things. They took him to a new place that he didn't recognize. It looked very different from all the places he had seen. There were more men in white coats and a strange-looking bench with something stuck on top and straps hanging off. Little bags of blue water hung on poles around the bench and even stranger things were on the ceiling, pointing down at the bench. "Lie down," the first white-coated man said, touching the thing on the bench. His fingers made little dents in the thing.
Asset wasn't sure he wanted to. This didn't look like a good thing. He hesitated. The man grabbed his right arm tight enough to hurt and forced him to the bench. Then other white-coated men grabbed his shoulders and legs, forcing him to lie down on the bench. The thing on top of it was soft, but they closed the straps over his arms and ankles so that he couldn't move his arms or legs. They even put a strap over his forehead.
He didn't like the straps. They hurt and that scared him. He couldn't see well, but he felt them poke him in several places in his right arm and both legs, even in his torso, chest and neck. He could see tubes of that blue water if he turned his eyes. He wondered if it was going to be cold, but in a few minutes each place they poked grew hot. "Please, stop," he asked.
"Shut him up!" Zola yelled.
Something rubber was forced into his mouth, and then a strap was placed under his chin and over the top of his head.
The burning was getting worse, spreading out from the poked places into the rest of his body. Asset struggled against the straps. He started breathing faster and wanted to scream, but he couldn't do more than make strange noises in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut and liquid dripped down the sides of his face.
He imagined his body was burning from the inside out. He needed water. He could hear the white-coated men talking but they sounded far away. And he hurt too much to grasp what they were saying. He silently pleaded with them to make it stop.
Something began to glow through his closed eyelids. He opened them to see the things in the ceiling glowing. Maybe they would stop the burning.
Beams of light came from them, and the pain became so excruciating that he could no longer breathe. His hold body began to shake and push against the straps. Then the pain stopped and everything went black.
A jolt of electricity lifted the Asset's chest from the mattress. "Again," Zola ordered.
Another jolt jerked the body and it inhaled deeply. Like a drowned man, coming back to life, Asset opened his eyes. Men in white coats stood around him. One shined a light into each of his eyes. He turned his head away.
"Tube him," the man in glasses said. "Then start again."
No, Asset thought. Not again. They forced his mouth open and pushed a tube into his throat. He gagged but they kept pushing until it went right down. Then they put a different rubber thing in his mouth and strapped his chin again.
More straps now were placed over his chest, his torso, his thighs, and his knees. They weren't as tight. He couldn't make sense of that before the fire began to fill him again and the beams of light came from the ceiling. He couldn't even make the strange throat noises now. His breathing was erratic as he was nearly hyperventilating but air was being forced into his lungs regularly. Asset wanted to die. He kept hoping he would die, praying to someone he couldn't remember. Please let me die.
Asset had no concept of time on the strange, soft bench. He went in and out of consciousness. His body shook and the straps became tighter. They held.
Finally, the beams stopped and the fire died down ever so slowly. Most of the white-coated men left, and the overhead lights were lowered. A beeping sound went from racing to beep-beeping in a regular rhythm. The machine kept pushing air into Asset's lungs then waited for him to breath it out before pushing it in again. The straps stayed on and Asset stared at the ceiling. His ears were wet from the tears falling from his eyes.
He was still awake when the lights went up and the white coats returned. Asset watched them enter with as much hurt and anger as he could put into his eyes. But he kept still when they removed the rubber from his mouth and pulled the tube from his throat. He let them unstrap him and sit him up. They pulled him from the bench and his feet touched the cold floor. His legs held him up. A man on either side of him held his arms and directed him to walk.
They took him to the area with heavy things to lift. One pointed to the biggest one and told him to lift it with his right hand. Asset bent to pick it up and found it wasn't heavy at all. It was, however, very heavy to the man who'd told him to lift it, because it broke his face when Asset threw it at him. He picked up more heavy things that weren't heavy anymore and threw them at anyone who came near. Men in white coats and men with names like Boris and Nikita.
Then something hit his chest and he felt electricity all over his body. He fell to the ground and couldn't move.
The man in glasses appeared above him. "You are strong. But we must teach you again that we are your masters."
He still couldn't move when they dragged him and pushed him into a reclining chair. There was a strange contraption hanging above his head but not like the things with the beams. Metal straps locked over his arms and ankles. One of the men forced his mouth open and put a rubber thing in. The room started to hum and the contraption came closer. It engulfed the top of his head and he was afraid.
There was a snap and a thousand bolts of lightning exploded in his head. A scream ripped from his throat. It only stopped long enough for him to suck in a breath, and then he was screaming again. I hate you! he thought. I will kill you all! But the lightning stayed and the words stopped meaning anything.
There was a click. The lightning stopped. The contraption opened.
He panted like he was out of breath and lifted his head.
A man bent in front of him. He had a round face on a balding head. He had two round lenses in front of his eyes. "What is your name?"
The man had asked kindly, so he answered. "I don't know. What is my name?"
Metal straps opened. Another man came over, wearing a uniform. "You are the Asset. Stand and follow me."
Different language but understandable. The Asset stood and followed the man.
The End
©2021 Gabrielle Lawson