Joe moaned and turned his head, fighting the oblivion that had once possessed and now threatened to keep him. His eyes flickered open and he lifted his head only to immediately let it fall back as he closed his eyes to block everything from spinning around him.
He lay still with his eyes closed until he no longer felt as if his head were stationary while the rest of his body spun wildly out of control. When the vertigo passes he opened his eyes but lay still long enough to grow accustomed to the semi-darkness around him. He had been chloroformed many times before and was learning the best way to fight the nausea that arrived as he awoke was simply to move slowly. The after-effects wouldn't last long.
He sat up and looked around. He was confined behind iron bars in what he assumed was a basement. There was a small window through the bars on the opposite wall but the grass was so high outside that he could see nothing but green.
A solitary light dimly lit the basement but Joe could easily make out everything. Near the steps sat a desk with a lamp. Several papers and books had been placed haphazardly on the desk so that removing the wrong book first would result in sending everything tumbling to the hard cement floor.
To the left of the desk was what looked like a gurney, complete with leather straps for hands, ankles, chest and legs. The gurney was in a cage barely big enough to hold it. Near the caged gurney was a small table with a locked metal box. To the right of the desk, just past the stairs, was another set of iron bars like the ones imprisoning him. Behind those bars were the two wolves he had seen in Dr. Mayhem's lab his first night at the university. Joe stared into the eyes of the largest one expecting it to growl but it merely bowed its head then sat down on the floor with the second wolf following suit. Joe thought that was very odd behavior, especially for a wild wolf but then, he realized, he didn't know very much about the species.
Joe turned and looked at his own designated section of the basement. Unlike the wolf's prison, his was not covered in straw and no water bowl sat by the cage door. His was completely threadbare save for the cot on which he sat.
Joe stood and walked to the door of his cage. Without any hope he gave it a tug. As expected, it was locked. He grabbed hold of it and pushed as hard as he could but still it would not budge. With a shrug because he would have been surprised only if he could have opened it; he reached down and lifted his left pants leg to get the carved down nail file he kept there only to find it had been removed. He frowned and lifted the leg of his other pants leg. Not there either.
He shoved the cloth back down with a frustrated growl and glared at the door as if the sheer intensity of his stare could melt the metal. The sudden whimpering of the wolves disrupted his concentration. He turned and watched them curiously as they seemed to back away from their prison door toward the far wall. They're scared of me. The random idiotic thought soared through his brain as he turned his gaze toward the stairs where a light had just illuminated the area.
Joe heard humming as someone started down the stairs and by the time Mayhem's right foot came into view Joe still had not recognized the out of harmony tune. "Hello, Joe," Mayhem greeted him. "I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner earlier but I had to seize the opportunity when it arose."
"What do you want with me?" demanded Joe gripping the iron bars so tightly his knuckles turned white.
'To take care of you, of course," Mayhem replied, the calculating look in his eyes belying the fatherly tone his voice gave off.
Mayhem neared Joe's cage and set down the tray he was carrying. He slid off the plate and pushed it beneath the six inch opening at the base of the cage door and took a plastic pint of milk and held it out to Joe.
Joe thought about refusing but as his stomach let out a low growl he decided there would be no good to be had in starving himself. He reached between the bars and took the milk then stooped down and picked up the plate which held steak, a small salad, and a baked potato slathered with butter, sour cream and green onions.
"I don't get it," said Joe tilting his head and looking at Mayhem curiously. "Why? You treat me like a prisoner but you give me food like this?" He held up the plate he turned in Mayhem's direction.
"You are a prisoner for your own safety," Mayhem informed Joe. "Yours and everyone's," he amended. "Granted, the full moon has passed, but it will return next month and in the meantime, with your help, I can continue my research in your attributes."
"What do you mean continue?" asked Joe. "And what does the full moon have to do with anything?" he demanded refusing to admit for a moment to this man that he believed he was anything more than human.
"Oh come, Joseph," Mayhem admonished him with a twinkle in his eyes. "We both know you experienced your first transformation the night you were abducted."
"You're crazy," Joe snarled, his eyes reflecting the fear he had been filled with for days.
"Perhaps," Mayhem acknowledged the accusation to placate his captive. "But that doesn't alter the fact that you are a werewolf."
"They don't exist," Joe stated without conviction.
Mayhem shrugged and left the basement without another word. It was obvious Joe was in a disagreeable mood even if he didn't believe his own words. Soon though, he knew Joe would cease to argue.
Joe sat down and ate his dinner. He was famished. Why am I always so hungry? he wondered, chewing the juicy steak but not with any real relish. He finished his meal, drank the milk and then lay down on the cot. For some reason he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open.
Mayhem returned to the basement and wasn't at all surprised to find Joe lying down, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He fed the wolves their dinner then entered Joe's cage and chained him to the bed. Next he withdrew a syringe and empty vial from one of his pockets and a packaged pre-soaked cotton-swab. He dabbed Joe's arm with the swab and then inserted the needle. A few seconds later the once empty glass vial was filled with Joe's blood.
"And now," Mayhem said, looking down at the youth that would, in one way or another, answer his questions, "I have a little matter to attend to with your family and then we shall begin."
He lay still with his eyes closed until he no longer felt as if his head were stationary while the rest of his body spun wildly out of control. When the vertigo passes he opened his eyes but lay still long enough to grow accustomed to the semi-darkness around him. He had been chloroformed many times before and was learning the best way to fight the nausea that arrived as he awoke was simply to move slowly. The after-effects wouldn't last long.
He sat up and looked around. He was confined behind iron bars in what he assumed was a basement. There was a small window through the bars on the opposite wall but the grass was so high outside that he could see nothing but green.
A solitary light dimly lit the basement but Joe could easily make out everything. Near the steps sat a desk with a lamp. Several papers and books had been placed haphazardly on the desk so that removing the wrong book first would result in sending everything tumbling to the hard cement floor.
To the left of the desk was what looked like a gurney, complete with leather straps for hands, ankles, chest and legs. The gurney was in a cage barely big enough to hold it. Near the caged gurney was a small table with a locked metal box. To the right of the desk, just past the stairs, was another set of iron bars like the ones imprisoning him. Behind those bars were the two wolves he had seen in Dr. Mayhem's lab his first night at the university. Joe stared into the eyes of the largest one expecting it to growl but it merely bowed its head then sat down on the floor with the second wolf following suit. Joe thought that was very odd behavior, especially for a wild wolf but then, he realized, he didn't know very much about the species.
Joe turned and looked at his own designated section of the basement. Unlike the wolf's prison, his was not covered in straw and no water bowl sat by the cage door. His was completely threadbare save for the cot on which he sat.
Joe stood and walked to the door of his cage. Without any hope he gave it a tug. As expected, it was locked. He grabbed hold of it and pushed as hard as he could but still it would not budge. With a shrug because he would have been surprised only if he could have opened it; he reached down and lifted his left pants leg to get the carved down nail file he kept there only to find it had been removed. He frowned and lifted the leg of his other pants leg. Not there either.
He shoved the cloth back down with a frustrated growl and glared at the door as if the sheer intensity of his stare could melt the metal. The sudden whimpering of the wolves disrupted his concentration. He turned and watched them curiously as they seemed to back away from their prison door toward the far wall. They're scared of me. The random idiotic thought soared through his brain as he turned his gaze toward the stairs where a light had just illuminated the area.
Joe heard humming as someone started down the stairs and by the time Mayhem's right foot came into view Joe still had not recognized the out of harmony tune. "Hello, Joe," Mayhem greeted him. "I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner earlier but I had to seize the opportunity when it arose."
"What do you want with me?" demanded Joe gripping the iron bars so tightly his knuckles turned white.
'To take care of you, of course," Mayhem replied, the calculating look in his eyes belying the fatherly tone his voice gave off.
Mayhem neared Joe's cage and set down the tray he was carrying. He slid off the plate and pushed it beneath the six inch opening at the base of the cage door and took a plastic pint of milk and held it out to Joe.
Joe thought about refusing but as his stomach let out a low growl he decided there would be no good to be had in starving himself. He reached between the bars and took the milk then stooped down and picked up the plate which held steak, a small salad, and a baked potato slathered with butter, sour cream and green onions.
"I don't get it," said Joe tilting his head and looking at Mayhem curiously. "Why? You treat me like a prisoner but you give me food like this?" He held up the plate he turned in Mayhem's direction.
"You are a prisoner for your own safety," Mayhem informed Joe. "Yours and everyone's," he amended. "Granted, the full moon has passed, but it will return next month and in the meantime, with your help, I can continue my research in your attributes."
"What do you mean continue?" asked Joe. "And what does the full moon have to do with anything?" he demanded refusing to admit for a moment to this man that he believed he was anything more than human.
"Oh come, Joseph," Mayhem admonished him with a twinkle in his eyes. "We both know you experienced your first transformation the night you were abducted."
"You're crazy," Joe snarled, his eyes reflecting the fear he had been filled with for days.
"Perhaps," Mayhem acknowledged the accusation to placate his captive. "But that doesn't alter the fact that you are a werewolf."
"They don't exist," Joe stated without conviction.
Mayhem shrugged and left the basement without another word. It was obvious Joe was in a disagreeable mood even if he didn't believe his own words. Soon though, he knew Joe would cease to argue.
Joe sat down and ate his dinner. He was famished. Why am I always so hungry? he wondered, chewing the juicy steak but not with any real relish. He finished his meal, drank the milk and then lay down on the cot. For some reason he was having a difficult time keeping his eyes open.
Mayhem returned to the basement and wasn't at all surprised to find Joe lying down, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He fed the wolves their dinner then entered Joe's cage and chained him to the bed. Next he withdrew a syringe and empty vial from one of his pockets and a packaged pre-soaked cotton-swab. He dabbed Joe's arm with the swab and then inserted the needle. A few seconds later the once empty glass vial was filled with Joe's blood.
"And now," Mayhem said, looking down at the youth that would, in one way or another, answer his questions, "I have a little matter to attend to with your family and then we shall begin."