Tails jerked awake, almost screaming. What a nightmare! Was it over? He
could still hear that sound...
He untangled himself from the blankets and pinched himself on the arm. It hurt. He sat up, pricking his ears. That sound...ugh, it was horrible. A high- pitched wailing, cutting through his house. He looked out of the window, towards his lab.
Yes, that was where the sound was coming from...it had to be...Sonic?
.........................................
Hedgehog was curled up in a little ball, rocking back and forth. And wailing. The pictures had come back again, haunting him, strange sounds whispering in his ear. Make them go away! Drown them out! Scream.
So he did. Staring at the floor, wailing at the voices to go away, trying not to blink. Every time he shut his eyes, a different image sprang at him. Sometimes those animals, but most times a blurry mess.
It had been that way for days. Every night, the same.
And the feeling. It ate away at him, making him feel sick, like he had done something terribly wrong. It was this place...it had to be! All that he had done was hunt the fox...how could that make him feel bad?
He hated it. When the morning came...then the pictures would go...then he had to escape. Had to!
...........................................
As the sun touched on the horizon, giving light but no warmth, the screaming stopped. The first birds woke, and sang.
Opposite the lab, Shadow was merged with the shadows. He went there every night...just in case Sonic managed to get out. Why was he helping them? Why not somebody else?
The same thoughts jabbed at him, but he ignored them. He was helping them. It was...what Maria wanted.
But, the moment Sonic was cured, he was going.
..........................................
The square white room had no windows, and only one thick door. The door was heavily dented and scratched, as though something had rammed into it several times. The edges of the room were buried in shadow.
At first glance, the room looked empty. However, anyone assuming this would have made a terrible mistake. In the furthest corner, a pair of green eyes glinted, giving away the shape crouched there.
He hated the room. He hated the place, the smell of it. He hated the bare bulb lighting it up, out of reach. He hated the animals that made sounds outside. But, most of all, he hated the fox. It was his fault! When he got free, the fox would die. Quickly.
Well, the food wasn't so bad. Some kind of meat, in a doughy wrap. It had had a lovely, spicy smell, almost familiar. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted even better. Better than rats and plants, certainly.
There...they were making those sounds again. What did they mean?! He edged around the room, sliding as he usually did, and placed one ear against the wall. The voices that came through...the sounds...they meant something...
...he...he remembered this...it was...talking. They were communicating. That was it...like the lizard that signalled to him by hissing. He felt a strange tug...he should have been able to understand it, he knew...what were they saying?!
A new voice joined the rest, a...a female, he could tell. Wait...how did he know? He just...knew, somehow. He grew angry; he couldn't remember! He lifted a fist and thumped the wall, hard. Again and again.
.........................................
Knuckles stood outside, in the corridor, talking to Tails. He frowned, "I just don't know, Tails, he's been in there for a week. At least he's stopped banging." The fox drooped slightly; the excitement of finding Sonic had died.
And he still had nightmares about the caves...
Amy walked up to them, and said, "Hey, guys, how's it going?" Knuckles shrugged helplessly, gestured to the worn door, and said, "Ask him. But don't go in there if you want to keep your arm. I suppose that at least he's stopped-"
Then wall began to vibrate a little as the other side was thumped, hard. The banging continued, angrily. Knuckles paused mid-sentence, and then corrected, "Ah. Maybe not."
Amy put her head to one side, thoughtfully, and then said, "Have you tried psychology?" Knuckles blinked at her, and said, "Psy-what-now?" The girl giggled, and explained. "We could try, for example, putting something he knows in there. It might trigger a memory...and then we'd have Sonic again."
Tails thought, and said, "Hmm...I have an idea..."
.............................................
He was sitting against the wall, again. He had given up thumping when his hand hurt too much, and had tried to knock the door down again. Nothing worked. So he waited. They would have to open the hole soon...
...Even as he thought it, a small flap at the bottom of the door opened. He blinked in surprise, as a small tray was hastily pushed through. Then he was across the room in a bound, momentarily forgetting the dreaded light...as the flap shut again.
He growled angrily, and then turned his attention to the tray. They had put the food in not so long ago...what could this be?
It was covered with a cloth, concealing the contents. He pulled it quickly into his corner, avoiding the light as usual, and inspected it. Under the cloth were...more cloths?
No, they were different, he realised as he lifted one. It was white and...oddly shaped. It had five...fingers? Like...like his hand. He lifted his hand and compared the two.
They were quite alike, except his hands had the small claws at the end. The material felt nice, soft, and then he realised it was hollow. Almost as if...his hand could...no, that was silly. Wasn't it?
He looked down again, and saw another hand-cloth. Underneath it was something else, which he eagerly pulled out. It was different, not a cloth. It was red all over, except a white stripe across the top.
Again, it was hollow. It was also the same shape as his foot. Again that ridiculous thought occured to him, but something else with it. A small feeling, in the back of his head...these, they were familiar...they were...shoes? What was a shoe?
A shoe...on his foot. The idea was stupid, and yet logical. The others...the were...gloves? Yes, gloves. He smiled for the first time in weeks, delighted with the news words. Could he say them?
"Sssssssshhhoo." No, that wasn't right. "Sss-ss-ss-hh-oe." That was better...wait, was this...it sounded like the noises that they made. Was this communicating? He looked again at the shoes and gloves, and made his decision.
Minutes later, he stood, crouching slightly as he had learnt, and admired them. The gloves were very comfortable, and the shoes...they were...nice. He couldn't describe it. He tried touching the wall; he couldn't feel it as well, instead he could feel the inside of the glove.
He tried thumping it...and it didn't hurt! Well, barely. The shoes...he felt...fast. He tried moving forward in a slide as usual, and the shoes skidded slightly, bumping on the floor. He wasn't doing it right.
He scowled in annoyance; that was how he had always moved! Wasn't it? When he had first awoken, with only the blurry pictures...he had walked differently. He tried to do it again, and stood up straight.
He wobbled a little, but caught his balance. Yes, yes, yes! This was it! He knew...he remembered! He tried walking forward. It came easily. He tried jogging, then running. Easy, easy, easy!
He grinned happily, and repeated the sounds. "Sho-oe. Shoe. Shoes. Gll...glove...gloves! Gloves, shoes!" He was happy...but he stayed in the shadows. The light was still bad.
He untangled himself from the blankets and pinched himself on the arm. It hurt. He sat up, pricking his ears. That sound...ugh, it was horrible. A high- pitched wailing, cutting through his house. He looked out of the window, towards his lab.
Yes, that was where the sound was coming from...it had to be...Sonic?
.........................................
Hedgehog was curled up in a little ball, rocking back and forth. And wailing. The pictures had come back again, haunting him, strange sounds whispering in his ear. Make them go away! Drown them out! Scream.
So he did. Staring at the floor, wailing at the voices to go away, trying not to blink. Every time he shut his eyes, a different image sprang at him. Sometimes those animals, but most times a blurry mess.
It had been that way for days. Every night, the same.
And the feeling. It ate away at him, making him feel sick, like he had done something terribly wrong. It was this place...it had to be! All that he had done was hunt the fox...how could that make him feel bad?
He hated it. When the morning came...then the pictures would go...then he had to escape. Had to!
...........................................
As the sun touched on the horizon, giving light but no warmth, the screaming stopped. The first birds woke, and sang.
Opposite the lab, Shadow was merged with the shadows. He went there every night...just in case Sonic managed to get out. Why was he helping them? Why not somebody else?
The same thoughts jabbed at him, but he ignored them. He was helping them. It was...what Maria wanted.
But, the moment Sonic was cured, he was going.
..........................................
The square white room had no windows, and only one thick door. The door was heavily dented and scratched, as though something had rammed into it several times. The edges of the room were buried in shadow.
At first glance, the room looked empty. However, anyone assuming this would have made a terrible mistake. In the furthest corner, a pair of green eyes glinted, giving away the shape crouched there.
He hated the room. He hated the place, the smell of it. He hated the bare bulb lighting it up, out of reach. He hated the animals that made sounds outside. But, most of all, he hated the fox. It was his fault! When he got free, the fox would die. Quickly.
Well, the food wasn't so bad. Some kind of meat, in a doughy wrap. It had had a lovely, spicy smell, almost familiar. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that it tasted even better. Better than rats and plants, certainly.
There...they were making those sounds again. What did they mean?! He edged around the room, sliding as he usually did, and placed one ear against the wall. The voices that came through...the sounds...they meant something...
...he...he remembered this...it was...talking. They were communicating. That was it...like the lizard that signalled to him by hissing. He felt a strange tug...he should have been able to understand it, he knew...what were they saying?!
A new voice joined the rest, a...a female, he could tell. Wait...how did he know? He just...knew, somehow. He grew angry; he couldn't remember! He lifted a fist and thumped the wall, hard. Again and again.
.........................................
Knuckles stood outside, in the corridor, talking to Tails. He frowned, "I just don't know, Tails, he's been in there for a week. At least he's stopped banging." The fox drooped slightly; the excitement of finding Sonic had died.
And he still had nightmares about the caves...
Amy walked up to them, and said, "Hey, guys, how's it going?" Knuckles shrugged helplessly, gestured to the worn door, and said, "Ask him. But don't go in there if you want to keep your arm. I suppose that at least he's stopped-"
Then wall began to vibrate a little as the other side was thumped, hard. The banging continued, angrily. Knuckles paused mid-sentence, and then corrected, "Ah. Maybe not."
Amy put her head to one side, thoughtfully, and then said, "Have you tried psychology?" Knuckles blinked at her, and said, "Psy-what-now?" The girl giggled, and explained. "We could try, for example, putting something he knows in there. It might trigger a memory...and then we'd have Sonic again."
Tails thought, and said, "Hmm...I have an idea..."
.............................................
He was sitting against the wall, again. He had given up thumping when his hand hurt too much, and had tried to knock the door down again. Nothing worked. So he waited. They would have to open the hole soon...
...Even as he thought it, a small flap at the bottom of the door opened. He blinked in surprise, as a small tray was hastily pushed through. Then he was across the room in a bound, momentarily forgetting the dreaded light...as the flap shut again.
He growled angrily, and then turned his attention to the tray. They had put the food in not so long ago...what could this be?
It was covered with a cloth, concealing the contents. He pulled it quickly into his corner, avoiding the light as usual, and inspected it. Under the cloth were...more cloths?
No, they were different, he realised as he lifted one. It was white and...oddly shaped. It had five...fingers? Like...like his hand. He lifted his hand and compared the two.
They were quite alike, except his hands had the small claws at the end. The material felt nice, soft, and then he realised it was hollow. Almost as if...his hand could...no, that was silly. Wasn't it?
He looked down again, and saw another hand-cloth. Underneath it was something else, which he eagerly pulled out. It was different, not a cloth. It was red all over, except a white stripe across the top.
Again, it was hollow. It was also the same shape as his foot. Again that ridiculous thought occured to him, but something else with it. A small feeling, in the back of his head...these, they were familiar...they were...shoes? What was a shoe?
A shoe...on his foot. The idea was stupid, and yet logical. The others...the were...gloves? Yes, gloves. He smiled for the first time in weeks, delighted with the news words. Could he say them?
"Sssssssshhhoo." No, that wasn't right. "Sss-ss-ss-hh-oe." That was better...wait, was this...it sounded like the noises that they made. Was this communicating? He looked again at the shoes and gloves, and made his decision.
Minutes later, he stood, crouching slightly as he had learnt, and admired them. The gloves were very comfortable, and the shoes...they were...nice. He couldn't describe it. He tried touching the wall; he couldn't feel it as well, instead he could feel the inside of the glove.
He tried thumping it...and it didn't hurt! Well, barely. The shoes...he felt...fast. He tried moving forward in a slide as usual, and the shoes skidded slightly, bumping on the floor. He wasn't doing it right.
He scowled in annoyance; that was how he had always moved! Wasn't it? When he had first awoken, with only the blurry pictures...he had walked differently. He tried to do it again, and stood up straight.
He wobbled a little, but caught his balance. Yes, yes, yes! This was it! He knew...he remembered! He tried walking forward. It came easily. He tried jogging, then running. Easy, easy, easy!
He grinned happily, and repeated the sounds. "Sho-oe. Shoe. Shoes. Gll...glove...gloves! Gloves, shoes!" He was happy...but he stayed in the shadows. The light was still bad.