Day: 9

Waylon was left alone in his cell, left abnormally alone. It made him paranoid that no doctors had come to take him away. Waylon hoped nothing "special" was planned. That this abnormal event was because he was "ill from the engine therapy" and doctors had no use for him.

He was going in and out of sleep. His paranoia and illness waking him up. He would have strong coughing fits now and again, sometimes coughing up blood. Waylon hoped that maybe the doctors would fix him enough to survive. He didn't want to die here, all alone.

Even worse if Lisa never finds him. If he died here, he at least wanted to be buried far away. Not cremated here or buried in the asylums "back yard". He didn't think his soul could rest if that happened. He sighed out a tired breath, waking up for the 23rd time. The sharp clanking noise of the door unlocking made Waylon jump. Fear filling his body when Andrew came in with a shock stick.

"come on. iam gonna have you talk today." Andrew said cheerfully, forcing Waylon up and pushing him out the door. Waylon shrunk down ready to be hit or injured. Andrew didn't hit him, but did continue to force him down the halls. Waylon couldn't move on his own, too afraid of what was going to happen and where he was going.

The paranoia grew worse when Waylon realized they were together, alone. No guards, other doctors, or recording staff. Just him and Andrew alone, dragged off to a unknown place. Which could be any where in the asylum and no body would question Andrew about it. He could be taken to a lab, another holding cell, some sort of therapy room, or even a lone room away from others with a bed.

Andrew kept pushing him till they reached a door. He grabbed Waylon yanking him into the room before strapping him down onto a laying back chair. Waylon felt pain as he was seated, trying to sink down and out of sight.

"are you going to speak to me?" Andrew said happily putting his hand under Waylons shirt and laying it on Waylons chest. Waylon didn't even give a notion to show he was paying attention. Mainly only trying to shrink away from the touch and avoid eye contact.

"come on rat, that's not polite. Ill give you a treat if you speak." Andrew grinned moving his hand lower. Waylon held his tongue, fear and a cotton dry mouth stopping him anyway.

"no? How about some food." Andrew asked, removing his unwanted touch. Waylons interest perked. Actual food to eat would greatly help. However, this was coming from Andrew. The food was most likely a rotten apple.

"fine then, ill just get it out of you a different way." Andrew said, walking away to a table with tools. He came back with a thin needle of yellow liquid. Waylon shrunk as low as he could in the chair when Andrew brought the needle close to his face. Waylon knew to be very afraid of needles. Some medicine could cause excruciating pain or shut down nerves to paralyze patients. Not knowing what Andrew planned made the liquid inside more threatening.

"know what this is? Its called negative 0016. its a special formula used to wake patients." Andrew said. Waylon grew confused by it, a waking formula for him?

"we don't use it often on the more aggressive patients. it causes pain while waking and they often get angry. A few doctors have died from waking patients. So lets see how well your friend takes it." Andrew grinned moving to a near by table. Waylon froze with his breath hitching. Eddie was sleeping on the nearby table, not even strapped down. Andrew got close to Eddie, checking the needle.

"i got at least a minute to get out before he wakes. Hope your a good escape artist with those straps." Andrew said, bringing the needle close. Waylon watched, panicking inside as the needle slowly got close to piercing Eddies neck. Waylon had a million thoughts passing by.

"Should i let Andrew wake him? Gluskin would end my suffering. But that may include torture with all the near by tools. I would also never see Lisa and the boys again. But maybe Gluskin wouldn't do that. He may hate doctors more then me. If I act dead he mite leave me alone." Waylon thought. He looked back and forth between the needle and Andrew, weighing his options in a fast panic.

"STOP! … stop" Waylon said roughly. His throat burned from not talking so long. Andrew stopped and brought the needle away with a smile.

"so you can speak. Such a smart rat." Andrew mocked with a smug face. Waylon regretted his decision, but he bet that would have happened either way.

"your friend really wanted to see you. And iam a little interested in what he wanted to say." Andrew said, bringing the needle close again. Waylon shook his head, trying in vain to have Andrew stop.

"don't!" Waylon talked again, having Andrew stop.

"don't want to talk to him?" Andrew asked. Waylon shook his head.

"what!" Andrew said. Demanding Waylon to fully answer.

"no." Waylon said quietly.

"why not? You seem to know each other very well." Andrew said. Waylon stayed silent again.

" my rat has lost its voice?" Andrew growled. Waylon glared at him, refusing to answer.

"now that's not a nice face." Andrew frowned and slapped Waylon across the face. It stung for a moment, but quickly became numb under adrenaline. Waylon leaned his burning face into his shoulder.

"learn to fucking speak!" Andrew snapped at him. He walked away, digging around in a desk before returning with a scalpel. Waylon tried to shrink away again as Andrew grabbed his arm. He deeply carved into Waylons skin till he made a 1 inch square. After the main lines were cut he began cutting the piece off.

Waylon yelled in pain. Squirming and writhing to try and pull away from the sharp blade. Andrew finished and put the cut skin onto a glass slide. He left soon after, leaving Waylon alone with Eddie sleeping near by. Waylon was opening and closing his hand, attempting to remove the pain and burning.

Waylon looked over at Eddie, wondering if his decision was good. Eddie mite have not tortured him. Killed him quickly in anger and he wouldn't have to suffer another day of testing. But he had to stay for his family. If Lisa knew he had given up, she would have been disappointed with him.

"she'll be here soon. I know she will. She must just be waiting on papers to come or police to gather up. It will only be a few more days. I just need to last a few more days." Waylon thought. His heart stopped for a moment when Eddie shifted slightly. Waylon had no idea how long Eddie was sedated for, or if he even was at all.

From the angle Waylon was at he could just see the large part of Eddies injured face. Seeing some of the smaller gashes had healed shut. He was also injured with his hands. They were wrapped tightly with gauze, the knuckles red with blood. Waylon wondered how that could have happened to him.

"fighting?" he thought. Guards were known to fight patients, but he wasn't sure if Eddie would get involved with those. Waylon thought for a moment before trying to speak with him.

"Gluskin … Gluskin." Waylon said. He wasn't even sure why he was trying. Waking him was the worst thing he could do. Waylon however wanted to talk. He refused to talk to doctors and guards. It lead to questions, trouble, and more tests after questions. Talking to patients was a rarity and the only social thing he could do without fear.

Patients could attack him or kill him, but once you learned a pattern it was easy to understand them. Doctors were different, they did what ever when ever. Keeping patients in the dark about what did what or where they were taken. Aggressive patients were more easily seen compared to the passive ones. Even then, aggressive patients were less likely to kill you then the doctors.

Waylon let out a depressed laugh. He felt the psychotic patients were friendlier then the abusive doctors. If he got out, he didn't think he'd ever trust a doctor again. The simple smell of sterilized hospitals and offices would make him vomit. He began thinking of the fresh air, that he'd see it soon.

thank you for reading and please comment. =]

poor waylon, hes so alone.