Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.
A/N: Kinda rough still. Sorry about the wait but I had to make sure the events checked off with the ideas.
I woke up to a bright light shining in my face. I tried to shield my eyes, but when I tried to move my arms, I found that they were extremely heavy.
Same went for my legs. I tried to get up and glance at them, trying to see what it was that was binding them down. I groaned with the effort of lifting my head, but I finally managed to see over myself. And what I did see was not encouraging.
I was lying down on a metal table, the kind that one sees on TV shows. I had somehow lost my shoes and socks, and my clothes had been replaced by a hospital-like garment. Crap... I didn't remember doing that.
The most shocking part was that nothing was holding me down. I couldn't move myself, I wasn't strong enough to.
What the heck had I been shot with? Animal tranquilizer? I set my head down again, thinking about my situation. Whatever 'they' had given me, it was powerful. I couldn't bring myself to move, or even think clearly. It was a struggle to stay conscious, and I must have lost it a couple of times before anything of interest happened. I tried to snap awake when a glass door slid open just out of my range of sight and two pairs of footsteps stopped somewhere near my head. A few minutes of silence passed by, with only the shuffling and moving of papers to break the silence.
"Well?" one of them finally asked, nervously.
"Well what, you dummy? I asked for something else and you failed to bring it to me!" snapped the other one, in a deeper voice. He was clearly in control here.
"Will it still work? Or do we have to start over?" The first man was almost whining by now.
"It will work, or else, it's on your head. I'm tired of your team bringing in the sick and the weak, and having them die on our hands! If this turns out the same as last time, I'm blaming you." I panicked at what I had heard. Die? I was too young to die!
I heard the stretch of latex gloves as a person more to my right put them on, and I took the opportunity to speak up. "Erm, where am I?" I queried shyly, straining my neck to look behind my head.
"You are in a place some of us would call the Room, while others call it the 'Last' Room," the second man said, chuckling cruelly. "And you are also not allowed to ask questions. Here, I'll help you take care of your tongue while you wait." He stuck a piece of duct tape on my mouth, effectively shutting me up. "Now hold on tight while we run some tests." He got to work on the tests, drawing blood, taking my pulse, looking into my eyes, and doing just about everything the doctors do for a check-up, and even more. I shuddered and looked away as he drew my blood. I could stomach working in a filthy environment, but NEVER any medical stuff that had anything to do with the crimson red liquid.
He whistled after he got a few results. "I'm surprised... We might actually have a decent one here." He stepped around the table to an intercom system and pressed a button.
"Yes?"
"Bring the mix from room B-41. We're ready to begin on this one."
"B-41? I thought we were doing B-13...? Are you sure?" The lady on the other side seemed unsure of his choice.
As he turned around, I was able to see that he was an older man, maybe of about thirty-five or so. His dark black hair was beginning to show some white spots. His chin was covered with a small, stubbly beard, and he was beginning to get very round about the waist. What struck me the most, though, were his eyes. They were filled with malice and contempt, and I had never seen anything like them before.
An aide entered the room, wearing the same white lab coat Old Nasty was. He was wheeling in a cart with rows of chemicals and vials, and a row of test tubes filled with a dark red liquid. I paled when I saw the tubes, and I was barely able to hold my stomach's hydrochloric acid down. Not that it would have mattered much with the tape on my mouth, anyways. I was completely gagged and immobilized, and I was about to be injected with who knew what.
"Alright. Tie her up. We don't want the same thing that happened to the boy from Muriel to happen again, would we? The tranquilizer should wear off in a while." Old Nasty was caressing the test tubes like they were a prized possession. He had a faraway look on his face. The aide closed some manacles around my wrists and ankles, making me blink. Uhh, those weren't there before...
"Hand me one of the syringes." He took a syringe and injected a few drops of the liquid into a sample of my blood, then stuck it under a microscope after a while.
"Hmm, no unfavorable reactions to the serum. Guess we can get right to it," he said, grinning in my direction. He brought it up to eye level to measure the contents. "Now this will probably sting. A lot. Which is why you're tied down and gagged." He smirked, bringing the needle close to my arm. I struggled wildly to get out of reach, but all I managed to do was break out a sweat and burn energy I didn't have.
STOP!! Please don't!!
The needle pierced my lower biceps, missing the vein the first try. Old Nasty frowned and withdrew it for a second attempt. I screamed silently as pain flooded my senses. My arm instantly went numb and started to swell to a size I hadn't seen on any living creature before.
The other three needles added more pain to the mix, and I was exhausted by the time Nasty was done.
"Well, that went well." He dusted his hands off, and signaled to the aide. He whispered a few things in his ear, and left the room. The aide paused for a second, shrugged, and then placed a mask over my face. The last thing I saw was the aide's back as he reached for a clipboard.