Chapter 5

"You can't have it!" I scream as I thrash wildly, nails digging into nothing but air. My eyes open suddenly; my skin is damp, cold. My heart is racing, chest heaving as I scoot quickly against the wall, trying to recollect what had just happened.

'Had I been dreaming?'

There were no signs of Dr. Crane or any indications that he had been in my room. Yet my body felt like one gigantic bruise from his previous abuse. My shoulder stung and my back ached. It pained me to even touch my face. Possibly the only evidence of what had happened last night with Crane. What were meetings going to be like now that our, 'doctor/patient relationship' had been exacerbated to, 'victim/sadist?' What other types of, 'therapy' would ensue? I slowly get up from my spot on the floor, wincing from the pain and limp to the small window on my door. 'No bugs on the lights, morning.' Footsteps echo gently down the hall. I step a few paces away from the door. Knowing all too well to whom those footsteps belonged to. They grow gradually louder, though still relatively quiet. I hold my breath.

My door clanks then opens, Dr. Crane steps in, smitten in his expensive suit, pristine smock, and coordinating tie, crystalline eyes behind modern-chic, metro sexual specs slice into me. My blood begins to boil; I suck gently at the side of my lip, contemplating on rushing him. His expression is smug as two orderlies flank either side of him.

'Never mind'

I snicker audibly.

'Bet you need the back up.'

His eyes shine as if back lit. "Miss Rhys, I see you're up. I trust you slept well?" His tone is sly, he knew all too well. I take an ungainly step toward him; the orderlies lurch forward, as if zombies. I ignore them and keep my steady pace forward until I am mere inches from Crane. The doctor signals calmly for them to halt. They do. I lift my head and gaze into his eyes; I'm a good six inches shorter than him. He stares at me, genuinely intrigued, radiating a vibe of curiosity and predominance.

'Fuck that.'

I rise onto the balls of my feet, lifting myself about three inches. I lean close, so that he can feel my breath. I lick my lips and lean towards his ear, "I'm not afraid of you."

I linger there a moment longer then lower myself and set my weight flat on my feet. I take only one step back, as to get a full view of his expression.

His face is unreadable. But his eyes shout volumes at me. He's curious, elated, challenged, and determined. Those hungry eyes are enthralled; they're sinister and malevolent, yet they stay professional. Immediately I regret my assertiveness. He takes a quick step towards me, leans down and repeats my previous gesture, breathing into my ear. "Time will change that." He straightens and smiles subtly at me, the sides of his lush lips curling slightly in wicked retribution.

"Demitri, bring a straightjacket." Crane's voice was low and commanding. He never took his eye off me. "Mark, you wait here."

'Whoops look what I did…'

I meet his gaze defiantly. "Oh hell Demitri, bring two." I take a deliberate breath, my heart starting to race. Dr. Crane takes in a sharp breath. "Bring a sedative as well." He then exhales inaudibly.

Demitri nodded as he exited, leaving me with Crane and the other orderly. I didn't stand a chance.

"I bet you have to bind and drug your patients…" I whisper, too terrified to raise my voice.

Crane raises an eyebrow, something I noticed he did when annoyed. "I choose to Kyra, it's less…problematic."

'Because you're a pantywaist'

"Oh I understand." My voice is still low.

The room is filled with awkward silence as I stare at my feet, awaiting my uninhibited fate. I can feel Crane's glare upon me, as if I'm some fascinating specimen, and to him I probably am. Minutes pass yet it feels as though I've been engulfed in that deadly silence for hours. Demitri returns carrying a grungy straightjacket, straps hanging like dead appendages. I didn't see a syringe but had no doubt that it was there.

Instinctively I back away, shaking my head slightly. Were they serious? Crane seemed to delight in my displeasure as the two orderlies gradually step towards me, Demitri with the straightjacket in tow. Dr. Crane stood fast by the door, lest I try to escape. Despite his small stature, his confidence and posture made him seem inescapably impassible.

"No." I state, backing away quickly, my back finding the wall.

'Let's negotiate…'

I wait just as Demitri closed in on me; I dodge to the right, pushing past Mark yet his strong hand grabs me by the shoulder but I pivot around, landing a good one into his groin. Immediately he falls to his knees, cursing me. My legs are suddenly swept out from under me as large hands clutch my waist. I thrash and scream in futile resistance. I knew once that rough canvas was placed over my head escape would be impossible and I would be rendered completely helpless. A blow to my stomach knocks me prone to the floor. The orderly pins my legs down with his knees, slipping the jacket over my head.

"NO!" I scream, kicking wildly.

Forcefully he shoves my arms into the long slits of fabric. I try unavailingly to scoot away from him. In a swift whipping motion he crosses my arms in front of me. I lash out with my only other available weapon, my teeth. I manage to dent the right side of his face, his skin almost at breaking point. A hard slap to my face knocks my head back, jarring my teeth. I feel the straps tighten as my arms are pinned low onto my aching stomach.

"Bitch!" Demitri hisses as he rams the two remaining straps between my legs. I jump at the sudden contact. I look up at Crane suddenly, his eyes the most active I've seen them, and yet dead all the same. I focus back on Demitri.

"Asshole!" I screamed back at him, while shooting Crane a menacing glare. He looks so calm, serene by the situation, and strangely gratified. I've never felt so disgusted by an individual. By this time the other orderly had recovered from the groin shot.

'Shame you missed out on all the fun.'

He stands up, slightly hunched over. "You want us to use that sedative?" He directs the question at Dr. Crane.

"Not yet."

Demitri tightens the last straps, making me whimper.

'Not comfortable!'

He picks me up by the front straps of the jacket and holds me up off the ground, then flings me into the wall. My back slams into the hard surface and the air from my lungs flees. I spilt the floor, lungs heaving to catch that fleeing air. Demitri glares at me, he doesn't look finished. Dr. Crane clears his throat and steps forward.

"Demitri, Mark, that will be all thank you."

"Do you need one of us here Dr…?"

"I hardly would have suggested otherwise, would I? Crane's tone is sharp, indignant.

"Yes sir." Demitri gives me a final, 'we'll finish this later' look and he and Marcus exit quietly. I sit on the floor, leaning against the wall, sore, bleeding, humiliated, and utterly defeated. Crane looks as though it was the most elating thing he's ever seen.

'Sick bastard…'

He approaches me, kneeling down eye level. I look up, eyes teary, face bruised and warm. I bite my lower lip. I must look pathetic.

"I warned you…" He gently lifts up my chin with the tips of his fingers. "…therapy will be rough." He breathes quickly, as if he couldn't get the words out fast enough.

"What are you going to do to me?" I ask slowly, breathlessly, wincing at the combination of pain and his gentle pressure under my jaw.

"Do you remember what you said to me earlier Kyra?"

'Uh…before or after I got slammed around?'

My mind clicks back to when I had hidden my fear from Crane. When I had said I wasn't afraid of him. I was brave then. A sick feeling of dread slithered its way inside me, turning my skin cold.

"Yes."

"I'm going to show you why you should be."

Dr. Crane places his hand on my knee, opening his mouth to continue.

'As if I need to hear anything else'

Immediately I kick out at him, catching him off guard. The quick blow is insignificant but it had managed to sit him down. I lower my head, breathing in short breaths, and strangely enough, I am smiling. 'If my arms were free…' Crane stands up as quickly as he had been knocked down. He straightens his tousled jacket and readjusts his glasses. The look he gave me forces my eye contact to break. I hear him take in a controlled breath and suddenly all the air was crushed out of my lungs. I double over just as I see him set his foot down; it was a noteworthy kick to the stomach.

"We'll see how brash you are when we meet for our next session…" He pauses and stares at me for a moment longer. Finally I hear my door shut soundly in conclusion to his leave. I lean the back of my head against the wall, wondering what was going to become of me.