Chapter Three
Clark came to, slowly. He felt the pain still searing through his body, but at least he could think clearly again. At least halfway.
He was laying flat on his back. When he tried to move, he realised that his hands and feet were restrained. This was a problem, since he was anywhere near his normal strength.
He tried to break free anyway, but the second he began to pull at his ties the hurt increased. Clark checked his surroundings finally recognising the crazy scientist he had kept from killing Pete.
"Finally waking up, Sleeping Beauty?"
Hamilton held the bottle in his hands bringing more distance between the two of them. He shook badly again.
"You can't keep me here forever. Someone will start looking for me."
Clark whispered, not able to do more. The damned meteors prevented him from escape, once again.
Hamilton only laughed.
"You're my ticked to fame. I already arranged your transport. Nobody will find you, where you're going."
He placed the bottle on a table next to him, but still to close for Clark.
"I will have the opportunity to experiment on your body, to find out ways of projecting your abilities to help mankind."
Hamilton looked dreamily at Clark, obviously picturing himself with the Nobel price.
Clarks throat was tight. All his life his parents had warned him, that this could happen. All his life he had feared this day. Then.
"Where's Pete?" He cried. Hamilton shrugged nonchalantly.
"He won't be an obstacle anymore. I took care of him."
He raised the gun and smiled devilishly. Clark closed his eyes, trying to keep breathing. Did Hamiltons words mean, that he had killed Pete? Had he shot him and taken care of the body already?
When he opened his eyes again Hamilton was leaning over him. Clark started, wrinkling his nose at Hamiltons sweaty smell. He was holding a scalpel over his left arm, trying to cut his victim. Clark felt a throb, but he knew, his skin couldn't be penetrated by the sharp knife.
Hamilton frowned thoughtfully. He turned to the table and grabbed the bottle. Clark screamed when the bottle was placed right next to his head, beginning to lose his awareness again.
Hamilton filled another syringe with the liquid and put the bottle back to the table. Clarks rapid breathing calmed again but he looked at the syringe with fear.
Hamilton tried to inject the fluid to him, but his skin didn't break. Hamilton cursed, then pushed the syringe and some drops fell onto Clarks arm.
Again Clark screamed, even though he did not wanted to. The green liquid entered his skin and made it prickle painfully. Hamilton tried to cut him again, this time with success.
Dark red blood flowed from Clarks arm. He looked at it dazedly, shocked, for he had not seen his own blood before. At least not at such extent.
"Don't." he managed to stutter, before he felt consciousness leaving again.
End of Chapter Three
Clark came to, slowly. He felt the pain still searing through his body, but at least he could think clearly again. At least halfway.
He was laying flat on his back. When he tried to move, he realised that his hands and feet were restrained. This was a problem, since he was anywhere near his normal strength.
He tried to break free anyway, but the second he began to pull at his ties the hurt increased. Clark checked his surroundings finally recognising the crazy scientist he had kept from killing Pete.
"Finally waking up, Sleeping Beauty?"
Hamilton held the bottle in his hands bringing more distance between the two of them. He shook badly again.
"You can't keep me here forever. Someone will start looking for me."
Clark whispered, not able to do more. The damned meteors prevented him from escape, once again.
Hamilton only laughed.
"You're my ticked to fame. I already arranged your transport. Nobody will find you, where you're going."
He placed the bottle on a table next to him, but still to close for Clark.
"I will have the opportunity to experiment on your body, to find out ways of projecting your abilities to help mankind."
Hamilton looked dreamily at Clark, obviously picturing himself with the Nobel price.
Clarks throat was tight. All his life his parents had warned him, that this could happen. All his life he had feared this day. Then.
"Where's Pete?" He cried. Hamilton shrugged nonchalantly.
"He won't be an obstacle anymore. I took care of him."
He raised the gun and smiled devilishly. Clark closed his eyes, trying to keep breathing. Did Hamiltons words mean, that he had killed Pete? Had he shot him and taken care of the body already?
When he opened his eyes again Hamilton was leaning over him. Clark started, wrinkling his nose at Hamiltons sweaty smell. He was holding a scalpel over his left arm, trying to cut his victim. Clark felt a throb, but he knew, his skin couldn't be penetrated by the sharp knife.
Hamilton frowned thoughtfully. He turned to the table and grabbed the bottle. Clark screamed when the bottle was placed right next to his head, beginning to lose his awareness again.
Hamilton filled another syringe with the liquid and put the bottle back to the table. Clarks rapid breathing calmed again but he looked at the syringe with fear.
Hamilton tried to inject the fluid to him, but his skin didn't break. Hamilton cursed, then pushed the syringe and some drops fell onto Clarks arm.
Again Clark screamed, even though he did not wanted to. The green liquid entered his skin and made it prickle painfully. Hamilton tried to cut him again, this time with success.
Dark red blood flowed from Clarks arm. He looked at it dazedly, shocked, for he had not seen his own blood before. At least not at such extent.
"Don't." he managed to stutter, before he felt consciousness leaving again.
End of Chapter Three