Part 12
Let the sunshine in, to warm my mousy fur.
My eyes open reluctuntly, they want to stay closed, somewhere deep inside my cranum my brain thrust them open. The room is much darker now, I haven't a clue why. It does feel like I have been sleeping for days, I couldn't have been out that long, could I, and if so what evils have Arnaud done to me while I was asleep. I try to get up, but my limbs are dead as well to. I must have been out awhile. If not I wonder what kind of medical "wonder" have they injected into my system. I try to close my eyes again, they feel heavy, but they refuse to budge. I wait here, I can't move, maybe I am strapped down. I wish there was some light in here. I realize I am lying on a sheet. I must be on the bed, but how was I put here, and why? My eyes wander around the room, and I notice things have been added, a leadened, glass table,( which design catches my eye,I want to just trace my fingers along the delicate patterns,) a crudely sculptured representation of what appears to be Napoleon Bonapart on a high glass pedestal, and five -or- six plaster vases, of grotestque looking roses,on simillar pedestals to Bonapart, and two wicker chairs. Have these been added for my comfort? Are they suppose to appeal to my sense for good art, because frankly they are repulsive, it seems as if they were found at a garage sale, -or- some junk yard. I know some people go for that sort of stuff and will define their stunning beauty to the grave, but they repulse me, disgust me, and most of all frighten me, is their some alternitive motive for them being in the room, now?
"Hello, Eberts," I heard A magnified voice call from every part of the room. I sit on my bed and search for it, though I know it is futile, I can not see an invisible wacko. I am unsure how to react to this. I wait a few second, and just stare at the wrinkled sheet below me, I had obviously tossed and turned in my sleep, like I normal do. I hear the voice again. "Hello, Eberts."
I wonder if I play his game, he will leave sooner. "Hello?" My voice is hoarse and trembling, which makes me question what was in that syringe again.
"Did you enjoy your Mousy Nap?" He says chuckling at his own joke.
The sound of his voice is starting to hurt my ears, what has he positioned in here as amplifiers. The vases? I can't tell, I am not thinking straight, and my ears are starting to ring.(My ears ringing makes me want to start singing silver bells. I have no idea why though.) "It was okay." I murmur.
"What was that Eberts?" He yells loudly, I hear static on the microphone, and I throw my hands to my ears in protest.
"I said it was okay."
"Good, good,...It is now seven thirty am, do you think the others miss you now?" Seven thirty it can't be, is he lying to me.
"I...don't ...know." I begin to couch ferociously, it causes my ribs to feel as if they are caving in.Arnaud's laughter rings louder in my ear.I stumble to the floor still coughing, to muffle the sound a little. I think I may crawl under the bed,if I don't die coughing.I try to throw my hands over my ears to muffle the laughing farther but my arms won't move. They are trembling violently, as well as my whole body, as I continue to cough. I wonder if all my organs are trying to push their way out of my system, it feels like it.The coughing spasm stops, and tiny specks of light dance freely in front of my eyes, like faries dancing in a feild of flowers. A tiny beast begins trying to stab his way out from my left temple. Pound Pound Pound! I can just see him, he is small, and furry, and now that i get a better look, I realize he is not a beast but a mouse, me, my mind is trying to abadon ship, again.His tail writes around madly as he tries to stab his way out, the little red ice pick gleaming in his little paw. Pound Pound Pound! Maybe if I try that, not with an icepick, but with one of the new additions to the room, I can be free.
Before I can enact this plan though I hear loud thudding footsteps, approaching me. I look up, in front of me is a man with a black uniform, thick black boots, thick black shoes, black jodphurs, and a black turtleneck shirt, all he needed was a black ski mask, and he would be ready to go mug some, fragile octogenerian. I start to stand up, but their is no need for that. He yanks me standing, using my pasiley tie.He almost chokes me with it, and I can see this hurly orangatan chocking me with it, after oh course pounding me several times on my head with his hair fists. He tosses me on the bed like I was a flimsy rag doll, I yelp in pain loudly when my back crashes hardly against the bed springs. The cland of the springs echos through the dusty air.I try to get up but he places a massive hand across my chest. I whimper. He draws his face close to me, I can hear his deep breathing, he sounds like a horse.Breathe in, neigh, breath in, then neigh.I clamp my eyes tight together, I can't watch whatever he will do to me.(Arnaud is starting to gigle hysterically.) I hope I am hallucanating, I pray I am hallucanating. I didn't just feel his reptile tounge against my check, and his silmy lips as well, please let me be hallucanating please tell me they gave me LSD. (Arnaud laughing becomes a wild, and amused titer.)If, he is going to do what I think he will do, I will die, my body will not accept me anymore, and I shall die here, maybe that is what Arnaud wants. I begin to shiver violently.
The Man makes a deafening braying sound in my ear. Nee Naa Nee Naa. I believe that is his laughter. He removes his arm, and plants his heavy leg with a thud on my chest. He unhinges my right eye, holding it open, I try to squirm but I can't move, his leg is a dead weight against my chest. I hear him take something out of his pants pocket noisely. He fiddles with it a second with his free hands. He holds an oval thing above my head, and I watch as drops fall into my eye, they sting, and I cry out. I try to blink. He jerks my head up to make sure the drops go in. I try to pull away my head, to close my eye, to do anything. He throws my head back down, and the mouse goes at it again, this time he has a friend join him on the right temple.The chemical begins to blur my vision, I whimper again. He lets go off my eye, he is still holding onto my head, he smacks me hard open palmed, the oval still in his hand, nics my check.I feel blood begin to drip down. He yanks open my other eye, and repeats the operation he had performed on my other eye. Instead of smacking me a second time, He leaves. I try to rise but my body has gone paralysised. I feel as if every bone in my body has been crushed by his foot. The bitter blood drips, and to my mouth, and I force my self to sit up. (Arnaud's laughter has stopped by now.)
I can't see. He put something in my eyes that has effected my vision. I can't see. "What did you to my eyes? I can't see!" I cry bitterly to anyone. I start to walk to the door. He put something in my eyes, I can't see. I keep hearing in my head. Then it starts a new message, since you can't see, how do you know you are going the right way. I don't know, I tell my mind. I try to remember the layout of the room, still thinking how do you know you are going the right way. I stumble over something, and crash to the floor, hearing glass and plaster, well that's one less vase to look at if I regain my vision. I feel blood dripping from new acquired wounds from the broken glass. I wonder if Arnaud has a smug grin on his snow tanned, Swiss cuckoo clock face. My right side throbs still, as do the two mice in my head. I close my eyes. I don't care right now, I just don't care right now. I drift into sleep again.
Let the sunshine in, to warm my mousy fur.
My eyes open reluctuntly, they want to stay closed, somewhere deep inside my cranum my brain thrust them open. The room is much darker now, I haven't a clue why. It does feel like I have been sleeping for days, I couldn't have been out that long, could I, and if so what evils have Arnaud done to me while I was asleep. I try to get up, but my limbs are dead as well to. I must have been out awhile. If not I wonder what kind of medical "wonder" have they injected into my system. I try to close my eyes again, they feel heavy, but they refuse to budge. I wait here, I can't move, maybe I am strapped down. I wish there was some light in here. I realize I am lying on a sheet. I must be on the bed, but how was I put here, and why? My eyes wander around the room, and I notice things have been added, a leadened, glass table,( which design catches my eye,I want to just trace my fingers along the delicate patterns,) a crudely sculptured representation of what appears to be Napoleon Bonapart on a high glass pedestal, and five -or- six plaster vases, of grotestque looking roses,on simillar pedestals to Bonapart, and two wicker chairs. Have these been added for my comfort? Are they suppose to appeal to my sense for good art, because frankly they are repulsive, it seems as if they were found at a garage sale, -or- some junk yard. I know some people go for that sort of stuff and will define their stunning beauty to the grave, but they repulse me, disgust me, and most of all frighten me, is their some alternitive motive for them being in the room, now?
"Hello, Eberts," I heard A magnified voice call from every part of the room. I sit on my bed and search for it, though I know it is futile, I can not see an invisible wacko. I am unsure how to react to this. I wait a few second, and just stare at the wrinkled sheet below me, I had obviously tossed and turned in my sleep, like I normal do. I hear the voice again. "Hello, Eberts."
I wonder if I play his game, he will leave sooner. "Hello?" My voice is hoarse and trembling, which makes me question what was in that syringe again.
"Did you enjoy your Mousy Nap?" He says chuckling at his own joke.
The sound of his voice is starting to hurt my ears, what has he positioned in here as amplifiers. The vases? I can't tell, I am not thinking straight, and my ears are starting to ring.(My ears ringing makes me want to start singing silver bells. I have no idea why though.) "It was okay." I murmur.
"What was that Eberts?" He yells loudly, I hear static on the microphone, and I throw my hands to my ears in protest.
"I said it was okay."
"Good, good,...It is now seven thirty am, do you think the others miss you now?" Seven thirty it can't be, is he lying to me.
"I...don't ...know." I begin to couch ferociously, it causes my ribs to feel as if they are caving in.Arnaud's laughter rings louder in my ear.I stumble to the floor still coughing, to muffle the sound a little. I think I may crawl under the bed,if I don't die coughing.I try to throw my hands over my ears to muffle the laughing farther but my arms won't move. They are trembling violently, as well as my whole body, as I continue to cough. I wonder if all my organs are trying to push their way out of my system, it feels like it.The coughing spasm stops, and tiny specks of light dance freely in front of my eyes, like faries dancing in a feild of flowers. A tiny beast begins trying to stab his way out from my left temple. Pound Pound Pound! I can just see him, he is small, and furry, and now that i get a better look, I realize he is not a beast but a mouse, me, my mind is trying to abadon ship, again.His tail writes around madly as he tries to stab his way out, the little red ice pick gleaming in his little paw. Pound Pound Pound! Maybe if I try that, not with an icepick, but with one of the new additions to the room, I can be free.
Before I can enact this plan though I hear loud thudding footsteps, approaching me. I look up, in front of me is a man with a black uniform, thick black boots, thick black shoes, black jodphurs, and a black turtleneck shirt, all he needed was a black ski mask, and he would be ready to go mug some, fragile octogenerian. I start to stand up, but their is no need for that. He yanks me standing, using my pasiley tie.He almost chokes me with it, and I can see this hurly orangatan chocking me with it, after oh course pounding me several times on my head with his hair fists. He tosses me on the bed like I was a flimsy rag doll, I yelp in pain loudly when my back crashes hardly against the bed springs. The cland of the springs echos through the dusty air.I try to get up but he places a massive hand across my chest. I whimper. He draws his face close to me, I can hear his deep breathing, he sounds like a horse.Breathe in, neigh, breath in, then neigh.I clamp my eyes tight together, I can't watch whatever he will do to me.(Arnaud is starting to gigle hysterically.) I hope I am hallucanating, I pray I am hallucanating. I didn't just feel his reptile tounge against my check, and his silmy lips as well, please let me be hallucanating please tell me they gave me LSD. (Arnaud laughing becomes a wild, and amused titer.)If, he is going to do what I think he will do, I will die, my body will not accept me anymore, and I shall die here, maybe that is what Arnaud wants. I begin to shiver violently.
The Man makes a deafening braying sound in my ear. Nee Naa Nee Naa. I believe that is his laughter. He removes his arm, and plants his heavy leg with a thud on my chest. He unhinges my right eye, holding it open, I try to squirm but I can't move, his leg is a dead weight against my chest. I hear him take something out of his pants pocket noisely. He fiddles with it a second with his free hands. He holds an oval thing above my head, and I watch as drops fall into my eye, they sting, and I cry out. I try to blink. He jerks my head up to make sure the drops go in. I try to pull away my head, to close my eye, to do anything. He throws my head back down, and the mouse goes at it again, this time he has a friend join him on the right temple.The chemical begins to blur my vision, I whimper again. He lets go off my eye, he is still holding onto my head, he smacks me hard open palmed, the oval still in his hand, nics my check.I feel blood begin to drip down. He yanks open my other eye, and repeats the operation he had performed on my other eye. Instead of smacking me a second time, He leaves. I try to rise but my body has gone paralysised. I feel as if every bone in my body has been crushed by his foot. The bitter blood drips, and to my mouth, and I force my self to sit up. (Arnaud's laughter has stopped by now.)
I can't see. He put something in my eyes that has effected my vision. I can't see. "What did you to my eyes? I can't see!" I cry bitterly to anyone. I start to walk to the door. He put something in my eyes, I can't see. I keep hearing in my head. Then it starts a new message, since you can't see, how do you know you are going the right way. I don't know, I tell my mind. I try to remember the layout of the room, still thinking how do you know you are going the right way. I stumble over something, and crash to the floor, hearing glass and plaster, well that's one less vase to look at if I regain my vision. I feel blood dripping from new acquired wounds from the broken glass. I wonder if Arnaud has a smug grin on his snow tanned, Swiss cuckoo clock face. My right side throbs still, as do the two mice in my head. I close my eyes. I don't care right now, I just don't care right now. I drift into sleep again.