The smell of copper wrings his nose. The cold leather of the patient's bed sticks to his still arms- arms that held firm to the bed. He stares at the tall machine with malice; the red light at the side laughs in quick blinks, and he couldn't wait till this dread could end.
"Boss…" He glances at one of the many henchmen working at the machine. In his employee's hand is a sharp needle.
He quickly rolls his eyes at the tool, "Drop that, Red One."
"But, you know, the pain can be kinda intense. You sure you wanna be awake for it?"
"I said drop it." The scientist's voice drops to a threatening growl. "I want to feel the pain, pain that I will cause that Skipper one day."
"'ight, suit yourself." The henchman merely shrugs, familiar with his boss's theatrical, masochist antics, as he sets the anesthesia aside and walks to help man the machine.
The scientist composes himself once more to glare at the machine now hearing the whirl of the machine- the articulate movements of a robot. Ignoring the blood pumping loudly in his ears, he closes his good eye, the left one, and takes a deep breath. The machine dug through the damaged retina, and he could only recall the searing pain from over a month ago…
"Blowhole!"
He heard the enraged voice of his favorite foe as he toyed with his inventions up on the balcony of the lab. Dr. Blowhole smirked before confidently calling over his shoulder, "Glad you could make it, Skipper."
"Cut to the chase, you sick doctor! Where's the weapon?"
The scientist circled around and clasped his hands mockingly at the man, "Where? Not important. What it does? You might want to worry more about that, my good agent."
"I'll worry about both when you tell me where it is!"
"Doubt it." Blowhole flashed a toothy grin. He took equanimous steps down the concrete stairs; one hand grazing the metallic railing as the other fiddled with a set of robotic-like bear claws. His lab coat swished dramatically once he reached the bottom. "But, since I'm nice, I'll give you a hint: look to my right."
Skipper narrowed his eyes at the scientist before rushing off into that direction with Blowhole chasing his tail. Skipper spots a large invention, but before he could reach it, Blowhole had tackled him. The genius swiped at him with the silver claws. Skipper had dodged each one, barely. The agent began to gain ground, and he punched Blowhole off- the robotic claws now laid on the ground.
Without thought, Skipper grabbed the pair and hit the groveling man. Dead in the eye. Blowhole growled in pain, reaching for the wound, finding blood now on his lab coat. The blood rushed through his ears; his heart pumping loudly and 5 times faster. Copper staining his smell.
Skipper grimaced apathetically, the claws still in hand- now dripping with blood, "You're going to tell me what that thing does, and how to shut it down. Now."
Blowhole groans huskily as he wakes up. He watches the machine above pull away. Red One and a few others are at his bedside.
"How you feeling, Boss?"
Blowhole blinks, the pain not leaving. "I'm fine. Bring me some painkillers and a mirror."
Two men scurry off, returning with medication and a hand-held mirror. The scientist swallowed a couple of the painkillers before looking in the mirror. He sees the robotic eye glowering red. He smirks devilishly.
Call him insane, but he'd call this an improvement.
About time I started posting for this ol' fandom! Call me insane, but I think this might be one of my best flash fictions. I wrote this for my creative writing class a while back; hope you liked it!