Alright, so Crane is much bolder in this chapter, showing just how nasty he can be. I know, you're asking yourself, 'is this possible?' Hopefully, I succeed in showing that it is.
I want to thank all my faithful reviewers, you all have been the best!
Chapter 8
"The…evil inside you…" is my quiet response.
"Good girl." The ghoul before me places his hand on my neck and squeezes briefly. "Cooperation it will make this process much easier for you."
"You mean for you…" My gaze is wide, terrified. I tremble under his touch.
"You're afraid that I might take advantage of you…" Crane's arm roams from my neck downward. My heart leaps in fear, my chest beginning to quake.
"…just how afraid are you?" He slithers on top of me.
"Get off me!" Immediately his hand slaps over my mouth.
"When will you stop fighting me? What is it going to take?" Crane's other hand slinks under my shirt and brushes against my cold skin. His hand is warm, strong, but comforting it is not. It is invasive and demanding, daring me to object. I close my eyes, forcing my mind to go to another place. Crane seems to have sensed this. He closes in on me, stretching his face nearer to mine and breathing into my lips.
"How's it going to feel when I take advantage of you? Knowing that whatever I do, you can't stop me?" His voice although mutated carries a certain rasp that wasn't there before. He sounds excited at the prospect. I can tell. I can feel.
Suddenly my heart starts to ache. My entire chest tightens in almost unbearable pain as I became increasingly disoriented. I struggle to speak through his hand. My back arches from underneath him. My toes curl, hands ball into tight fists. Tendons are clearly visible through my flexed arms as they tense against the hard straps. I've never felt this sensation before. My heart feels as if on fire. I manage a muffled scream. I eyes tighten shut as tears slip past my tightly pressed lids. I take huge breaths in through my nose, trying to calm my heart rate. Crane halts his hand's progression from underneath my shirt and firmly places it over my heart. He growls angrily.
"If you scream, you'll wish I'd let you die. I'll see to that." The burlap scratches against my face. I nod then grimace in pain as my heart works in overdrive. Crane leaps off me and darts for something in his briefcase. A cold needle plunges into the vein in my arm. A few long seconds after my heart rate gradually begins to slow, the fire in my chest begins to smolder. The burning of my lungs begins to subside; the acid in my throat slides back down. Suddenly I am utterly exhausted. My entire body collapses. Fists completely unfurled. My limbs feel like rubber. My mouth parts from labored, short shallow breaths. Eyes are half closed, head lolling to one side as much as possible. Cold moisture begins to breakout over my body.
Crane stands hovering over me. "I almost scared you to death." I hear him take off the mask and toss it onto his suitcase. "I'd rather that you see my face when I do it." He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip and I am too weak to object. My eyes merely flutter at the contact. "But not today…" The disappointment is plain in his so expertly controlled tone. A static sound catches our attention.
"Dr. Crane, psych ward. You're needed immediately." A stern female voice resounds through a small intercom in the room. Crane mumbles something I can't understand as he again presses his hand over my heart. I can't move. I am paralyzed with fatigue. He moves back an eyelid and quickly flashes a blinding light. A small noise of disapproval emits from my throat. "You'll be fine." Crane confirms as he picks up his suitcase, setting it onto a nearby chair. He opens it and tosses the mask inside then straightens his jacket. Running his hands through his hair he clears his throat. "I'll be back shortly…don't go anywhere." He exits quickly.
I lie there, imprisoned within my own body. My mind is temporarily slowed from the trauma, my body completely unusable. I try to move my fingers and then my arm, hoping the cold sweat would cause my arm to slip through the thick leather…impossible. The straps are so tight that they'd left fresh burns onto my soft skin. My eyes lag to the nearby clock. I try to focus on the black numbers. Quickly after, I lose consciousness.
In the back of my mind a noise catches my attention. I awake still on the table, still completely weak. My limbs useless and I utterly inhibited. My eyes only half open as I realize it is the door opening. I note drowsily that it did not shut. Dr. Crane walks over. He looks slightly perturbed. He checks my pulse then my pupils. "I much prefer you this way." He speaks as he unbuckles the straps which so cruelly hold me bound to the metallic table. I watch his shoulders as he moves to the straps over my ankles, the two over my legs, and then the other two over my upper torso. I completely relax with the newfound freedom of no bonds. Crane slides his arms under my slight weight, gathering me into his wiry arms. I think this very unusual of him. 'Doesn't he have people to do this for him?' Yet my body completely folds into his arms; which feel like bars of metal underneath me. My head involuntarily rolls onto his shoulder. Again the expensive fragrance hits me. I could feel his thin, strong frame from under his designer suit as he walks.
Dr. Crane carries me to my cell and sets me onto a mysterious cot; one that hadn't been there before. I can tell by the musty smell that I am still in the narrows of the asylum. The cot is small, old, and dusty, but I am grateful. For it is far better than the hard, coldness of the concrete floor. The bed creaks as Crane sets me gingerly upon it. I am both touched and wary by his sudden softness. "Thank…you…" I barely whisper with dry lips.
I can feel Crane hover silently above me for several seconds. He says nothing and exits the cell. The door echoes loudly behind him. I listen to the loud reverberations as they jar my brain, making me grit my teeth. But I lay my head onto the not-so-soft, lumpy pillow, feeling that it is beautiful to have that cushion underneath my head. Deftly darkness crept upon me. Swallowing my conscious mind whole in its tender grip, pulling me down gently into its warm cloak.