Spencer's head bobbed groggily on his neck as the darkness began to melt away from his vision. His memories were fragmented, almost none-existent. His muscles ached as though he had ran a marathon or completed a physical training session with Morgan. He wasn't sure how long he had been out for but he felt exceptionally tired. He tried hard to pry his eyes open but it was as if his eyelids were being held down with weights. Spencer's eyes fluttered once more. The room had a strong stench of stale urine which left him feeling nauseated. A small bulb dangled from a dank ceiling, casting a dull light in a circle on the floor in front of Spencer. He could feel the restraints on his wrists and ankles and the cloth that silenced him but he had no strength or energy to struggle. Spencer finally managed to crack his eyes open a sliver to find a partially dried wet patch over the crotch of his jeans and down the leg. He pressed his eyes shut again, his cheeks burning with shame. His throat felt clogged and tears stung his eyes. Don't cry, Spencer... It's perfectly natural... You went into status epilepticus... You remember the risks of incontinence are high during a seizure... The exhaustion quickly took over, sending Spencer back into a restless slumber.
A dry, barking cough awoke Spencer sometime later. He peered around through half closed eyes. The room was still dark, aside from the dim pool of light in front of him. There were no windows to ascertain time of day and he was unable to see his watch with his hands bound behind his back. Another fit of coughs rattled throughout Spencer's chest, making his already aching body ache some more. The gag in his mouth made the coughs all the more difficult to expel. He wheezed as he lifted his head and leaned back against the chair. His sinuses burned and his nose was so congested that he could barely breathe which was alarming to Spencer, given that his nose was his primary breathing tool at that point. Every joint in his body burned and ached. Great... Here are the symptoms... Spencer knew immediately what he was experiencing- he was showing symptoms of COVID 19. As a germophobe, contracting the virus was a nightmare for him to begin with. Couple that with a strain aimed to wipe out half of the population was purely horrifying. Spencer could only hope that he was physically fit enough to fight it off, although his weakened lungs from the anthrax infection could hinder that. The patch on his jeans had dried, though left an offensive smelling stain behind. Spencer could only watch as Mr Renholdt entered the room and slid a chair up in front of him. He spun the chair around so that the back faced Spencer and perched on it, folding his arms on the top of the back. Mr Renholdt locked eyes with him and smirked. Spencer simply responded with a glare. Mr Renholdt reached forward and tugged the gag out of Spencer's mouth.
"Sleep well, Dr Reid?" Spencer snorted derisively.
"What do you think? How long have I been out?"
"Almost two days." Spencer's eyes widened, "You had a long seizure. I had to give you some of that medicine you carry in your bag." Another bout of coughing echoed around the room, "I see you have started to develop some symptoms. How are you feeling, doctor?"
"Fuck you," panted Spencer between coughs.
"Now, now. That's very rude of you." Spencer gave a half-hearted laugh.
"Sure. You're the authority on behaviour and manners." Mr Renholdt slapped Spencer, turning the dull ache in his bruised jaw into a wave of agony. Spencer gritted his teeth. Mr Renholdt came to his feet as the door creaked open.
"It stinks in here," stated the man who had entered the room. He was young looking, with short, curly dark hair and an unshaven jaw. Spencer narrowed his eyes at him.
"Ah. Dr Reid, I'd like you to meet Elias Voit. He is one of my best programmers." Spencer raised an eyebrow.
"Uh-huh. I know a better one." Mr Renholdt back handed him once again, "Let me ask you this, Mr Renholdt. How is Gold Star going?" Mr Renholdt and Elias stiffened. Spencer tilted his head, "Interesting."
"What do you know about Gold Star?" asked Mr Renholdt.
"It's an educational programme set up by yourself for people with a high IQ with a focus on the sciences. I suspect, however, that what you really wanted to do was create a series of highly intelligent criminals. Just like how you wanted Dr Whitfield to be a genocidal maniac. I hypothesise that Elias here is one of your successful subjects." A flash of anger crossed Mr Renholdt's eyes. Elias folded his arms defensively across his chest, "You see, Mr Renholdt. I have an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory so I recall every detail of things I have seen and read, so I was able to remember that you were forming an educational programme. Secondary to that, I am a profiler who was worked with many different types of psychopaths and sociopaths so could connect the dots." Elias sidled up to Mr Renholdt and whispered something in his ear. Spencer wheezed from another bout of coughs. Mr Renholdt turned back to Spencer and shoved the cloth back into his mouth before reaching around his head to tighten the knot. Spencer grunted against the force and tried to move his head away.
"I'll deal with you later," responded Mr Renholdt dangerously before exiting the room with Elias in tow, leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts. Spencer groaned. He needed to find a way out of the hell hole, one way or another. He tested his bonds but they held strong. He had practised magic since he was a child but never mastered the art of escape. Spencer berated himself as hindsight told him he should have. If he had, he could have saved himself the trouble with Tobias Hankel or the Believers. Flexi-cuffs needed a lot more to escape from. He sighed, realising that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Every ounce of his being was exhausted and ached which quickly engulfed him, leading to another restless sleep.
A gentle tapping on his face caused Spencer to stir. The tapping grew in frequency and intensity. Spencer grunted and tore his face away as far as he could. He peeled his eyes open and glared at the owner of the hand. What he did not expect was for Elias Voit to be the one there. Spencer knitted his brows together in confusion. Elias had turned the chair around was seated on it facing Spencer, a water bottle between his hands. He reached forward but Spencer pulled back. Elias raised his hands in surrender, the bottle clasped between his thumb and forefinger.
"Don't you want a drink, Dr Reid? You need to take your medication after all." Elias reached forward again, albeit more slowly than before and tugged the sodden cloth from Spencer's mouth, allowing it to hang around his neck. A trail of saliva tracked down Spencer's chin. Elias twisted off the cap to the tube of tablets and tipped two into the palm of his hand. Spencer watched him intently. Elias grasped the tablets between his fingers and held them out. Spencer considered the man for a moment before opening his mouth to allow the tablets to be placed on his tongue. Elias pocketed the tube and opened the bottle. He pressed the opening of the bottle to Spencer's lips. Spencer's eyes remained locked to the unassuming man in front of him as he gulped greedily, his mouth coarse and dry from a lack of moisture.
"Why are you here?" asked Spencer.
"Mr Renholdt has taught me a lot. At first, he seemed like a really great guy. But his ideas for population control scared me. He has people in his pocket."
"My team can help us." Elias shook his head, curls bouncing.
"You don't understand. He has the FBI in his pocket."
"Not all of them. My team and I aren't." Elias pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.
"You're not getting it. There's no way out of this." Spencer pursed his lips.
"So, why are you doing this?"
"Biding my time." Elias set the bottle down on the floor at his feet and untied the gag from around Spencer's neck. He held the cloth up, ready to silence the doctor again. Spencer narrowed his eyes at the soggy material, "It's either this or duct tape." Spencer realised he would need to choose the lesser of two evils. The cloth gag kept pressing against his bruised jaw whilst duct tape would wax his face. He needed to consider what would be the most comfortable, making him chuckle inwardly. Comfort... In this situation... Elias was watching him expectantly.
"Do you really need to do this?" asked Spencer quietly, eyeing the material in front of his face. Elias was visibly becoming impatient. The man stared at one another, locked in a battle of wills before a voice sounded from the door.
"Use both." Spencer peered over Elias' shoulder to see Mr Renholdt stood there, his hands clasped behind his back. He bobbed on the balls of his feet. Elias mouthed an apology at Spencer who opened his mouth compliantly for what was to come. The sodden material was scrunched up and stuffed into Spencer's open maw. Spencer clenched his jaw, desperately trying to keep the cloth from lodging in his throat. Elias took a roll of black duct tape from his back pocket and pulled a strip of it taut. Spencer sighed morosely as the tape was pressed over his lips and wound tightly around his head to hold the cloth in place. It was stifling and choking. The tape dug into Spencer's battered cheeks. Elias tore off the end and pocketed the roll. Spencer glared at him. Mr Renholdt stepped forward and handed Elias a syringe filled with a cloudy substance. Spencer's pleas were unheard, lost into the folds of cloth lodged behind his teeth and the thick tape over his mouth holding it there. Elias removed the cap with his teeth and grabbed a handful of Spencer's hair, yanking his head to the side. He plunged the needle into the bruised side of Spencer's neck and pushed the contents of the syringe into Spencer's body. Spencer's eyes became unfocussed, sluggishly moving from side to side, eyelids fluttering.
"Sleep, Dr Reid. You'll need it." Mr Renholdt smirked and stalked away. Elias started to follow him, then looked back at their unconscious captive whose chin rested against his chest which slowly rose and fell. He turned back again and closed the door behind him, turning the key in the lock and removing it.