After the day's harrowing experiments, a bruised and
battered Max was led back to his prison cell and shoved inside. Not able to
keep his balance, Max dropped to his knees then fell over in a heap on the
cold cell floor. Max was panting from the pain, which was cutting through
his drug haze. Unfortunately, he was fighting a losing battle for
consciousness.
***********************************
It became the third day of Max's ordeal. Opening his swollen, bloodshot eyes, the first thing he was aware of was lying on his back against a hard surface, staring up at a grayish ceiling. He raised up from the floor, for a start, and shivers wracked his body. Feelings of fearfulness and anxiety developed as he took in his surroundings. He continued to shiver. It was then he noticed that his entire body was in fact soaked in perspiration. He slowly crawled back up to the cot, pausing on the edge for a moment, holding his face in his hands. Max didn't know how much more could he take. A flashback of the needle being inserted into his arm and other distorted images flooded his thought process. Max took in a gasp of air and jolted upright. He exhailed slowly and wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head. Reality seemed to come and go, with the bobbing of his head, forward and backward. For extended moments at a time, he was finally able to focus more clearly. His body ached not only from the abuse it was given, but also from everything that the drug was doing to him. He needed his fix and tried to think of anything to keep his mind away from the onset of his craving. He thought of 99. He pictured her caring, intense eyes, and the way they always looked deep inside him. He imagined her there with him, stroking her dark brown hair at the side of her face. If only she was really there, comforting him. He'd tell her how much he loved her and wanted her in his life. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to tell her that. Max curled up on the cot as his body shook with need. He wished they'd come with another injection. He needed it so badly.
For the third day in a row, Max was given the drug, each time at a slightly higher dose. He welcomed the injection and didn't fight it, sighing in relief as the doctor acquiescently injected the PCP into his bloodstream. It was instantaneous. He felt the rush of cool relaxation travel throughout his body and felt the immediate relief as it flowed through his veins. At that moment, he could think of nothing but the incredible feeling of comfort that he was experiencing. The drug was in full effect now. A slow smile crept across his face. He could finally relax. The slow buzzing was strong now, as he felt warm and calm. The next few minutes went in slow motion. Or, were they hours? He couldn't tell anymore. Over the next couple of hours, whatever was being done to him, he took no mind. But suddenly a change came over Max; his calm demeanor changed to one of paranoia and violent hostility. An immediate surge of superhuman strength overtook Max. Struggling violently in the chair, Max loosened one of the leather straps on his wrist. When the doctor came over to restrain him, Max backhanded the doctor, which caused him to fall backward into the table.
"Guards! I need help!" yelled the doctor.
As the guards rushed through the door, Max had already tore off the other strap, got up and threw the chair at the incoming guards. Anger and rage engulfed Max as he threw himself into the fight. With his skill as a martial arts expert, he was that much more deadly an adversary, and managed to kill one of the KAOS agents before something struck him on the side of the head. He groaned and slumped to the ground, unconscious.
The doctor stood over Max with a metal pipe in his hand. Muller ran into the room. Seeing one of his men dead, he quickly took his gun out of his holster and pointed it at the unconscious Max.
The doctor grabbed at Muller's arm as the gun discharged, missing Max by inches.
"What did you do that for? screamed Muller. "I've had enough of this, Doc. He killed one of my men. Experiments or no experiments, he's a dead man," Muller proclaimed, as he pointed the gun once again at Max.
The doctor again grabbed at Muller's arm, "Wait, I just need tomorrow for one more test. Then we'll get rid of him. I'll have all the data that KAOS will need for this drug and that will be the end of it. I'll inject a fatal overdose into him. I promise you --- it won't be pleasant."
Muller thought long and hard, then placed his gun back into the holster. "You might be right. What good would shooting him now be? Alright, just till tomorrow. Then I want the pleasure of seeing him suffer, Doc."
Muller and the other guard dragged Max by his legs back to his cell. Max lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor for the rest of the night.
..............
"MAX!" 99 yelled, as she awoke with a fright. Feelings of anxiety and fear subsided when she realized she was in her bed, alone. Her bedroom was dark, but familiar. She flipped on the light. She had just had a terrible nightmare about Max. He was hurt and crying out for her to find him. She felt helpless, not having a clue as to his whereabouts. She couldn't sleep now, even if she wanted to. It was hours before dawn, and 99 sat waiting by the phone for any word.
*********************************
Day four had Max wake up to a splitting headache. Slowly he got up, and winced at the pain radiating from his temple. His hand felt the area; it was caked with dried blood from the blow he received last night. Not only did his head ache, but his body again began to show signs of craving the drug. He tried to fight it, telling himself he was strong and could do without it. It was a battle he began to think he couldn't win.
***********************************
99 started to dose off when her phone rang abruptly. She quickly grabbed for the phone, "Did you find him?"
The Chief was on the other end, "Yes, 99. We finally tracked down that informer, and he gave us the location of the lab. We're going in." "Not without me, Chief. I'll be there in 15 minutes," 99 assured him.
"You'd better make it 10. If Max is alive, we can't waste a single minute."
99 rushed to throw some clothes on, and quickly ran out the door.
To Be Continued ...
***********************************
It became the third day of Max's ordeal. Opening his swollen, bloodshot eyes, the first thing he was aware of was lying on his back against a hard surface, staring up at a grayish ceiling. He raised up from the floor, for a start, and shivers wracked his body. Feelings of fearfulness and anxiety developed as he took in his surroundings. He continued to shiver. It was then he noticed that his entire body was in fact soaked in perspiration. He slowly crawled back up to the cot, pausing on the edge for a moment, holding his face in his hands. Max didn't know how much more could he take. A flashback of the needle being inserted into his arm and other distorted images flooded his thought process. Max took in a gasp of air and jolted upright. He exhailed slowly and wiped the sweat from his forehead, trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head. Reality seemed to come and go, with the bobbing of his head, forward and backward. For extended moments at a time, he was finally able to focus more clearly. His body ached not only from the abuse it was given, but also from everything that the drug was doing to him. He needed his fix and tried to think of anything to keep his mind away from the onset of his craving. He thought of 99. He pictured her caring, intense eyes, and the way they always looked deep inside him. He imagined her there with him, stroking her dark brown hair at the side of her face. If only she was really there, comforting him. He'd tell her how much he loved her and wanted her in his life. He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to tell her that. Max curled up on the cot as his body shook with need. He wished they'd come with another injection. He needed it so badly.
For the third day in a row, Max was given the drug, each time at a slightly higher dose. He welcomed the injection and didn't fight it, sighing in relief as the doctor acquiescently injected the PCP into his bloodstream. It was instantaneous. He felt the rush of cool relaxation travel throughout his body and felt the immediate relief as it flowed through his veins. At that moment, he could think of nothing but the incredible feeling of comfort that he was experiencing. The drug was in full effect now. A slow smile crept across his face. He could finally relax. The slow buzzing was strong now, as he felt warm and calm. The next few minutes went in slow motion. Or, were they hours? He couldn't tell anymore. Over the next couple of hours, whatever was being done to him, he took no mind. But suddenly a change came over Max; his calm demeanor changed to one of paranoia and violent hostility. An immediate surge of superhuman strength overtook Max. Struggling violently in the chair, Max loosened one of the leather straps on his wrist. When the doctor came over to restrain him, Max backhanded the doctor, which caused him to fall backward into the table.
"Guards! I need help!" yelled the doctor.
As the guards rushed through the door, Max had already tore off the other strap, got up and threw the chair at the incoming guards. Anger and rage engulfed Max as he threw himself into the fight. With his skill as a martial arts expert, he was that much more deadly an adversary, and managed to kill one of the KAOS agents before something struck him on the side of the head. He groaned and slumped to the ground, unconscious.
The doctor stood over Max with a metal pipe in his hand. Muller ran into the room. Seeing one of his men dead, he quickly took his gun out of his holster and pointed it at the unconscious Max.
The doctor grabbed at Muller's arm as the gun discharged, missing Max by inches.
"What did you do that for? screamed Muller. "I've had enough of this, Doc. He killed one of my men. Experiments or no experiments, he's a dead man," Muller proclaimed, as he pointed the gun once again at Max.
The doctor again grabbed at Muller's arm, "Wait, I just need tomorrow for one more test. Then we'll get rid of him. I'll have all the data that KAOS will need for this drug and that will be the end of it. I'll inject a fatal overdose into him. I promise you --- it won't be pleasant."
Muller thought long and hard, then placed his gun back into the holster. "You might be right. What good would shooting him now be? Alright, just till tomorrow. Then I want the pleasure of seeing him suffer, Doc."
Muller and the other guard dragged Max by his legs back to his cell. Max lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor for the rest of the night.
..............
"MAX!" 99 yelled, as she awoke with a fright. Feelings of anxiety and fear subsided when she realized she was in her bed, alone. Her bedroom was dark, but familiar. She flipped on the light. She had just had a terrible nightmare about Max. He was hurt and crying out for her to find him. She felt helpless, not having a clue as to his whereabouts. She couldn't sleep now, even if she wanted to. It was hours before dawn, and 99 sat waiting by the phone for any word.
*********************************
Day four had Max wake up to a splitting headache. Slowly he got up, and winced at the pain radiating from his temple. His hand felt the area; it was caked with dried blood from the blow he received last night. Not only did his head ache, but his body again began to show signs of craving the drug. He tried to fight it, telling himself he was strong and could do without it. It was a battle he began to think he couldn't win.
***********************************
99 started to dose off when her phone rang abruptly. She quickly grabbed for the phone, "Did you find him?"
The Chief was on the other end, "Yes, 99. We finally tracked down that informer, and he gave us the location of the lab. We're going in." "Not without me, Chief. I'll be there in 15 minutes," 99 assured him.
"You'd better make it 10. If Max is alive, we can't waste a single minute."
99 rushed to throw some clothes on, and quickly ran out the door.
To Be Continued ...