Chapter 20
The darkness was oppressing. The room was larger than the crate, but there was no air holes bringing in miniscule streams of light. The air vent was nearly silent, nearly invisible, blowing cool air. The few times he'd been let out to be tortured or to get his next injection, he'd been blindfolded and the lights dimmed so that he couldn't see any light. The darkness was a constant. Curled into a little ball, the only sound coming from the boy was sobs.
It was better than a week ago. When they had shoved him in there, he'd been in complete shock, Roy's blood splattered all over his previously white clothes. Even now, the scene kept replaying through his head. Being tied to the poles. The coin flipping, flipping, flipping down, down, down, and spinning until it stopped on heads. Then, he was staring at the barrel of the gun, Logarithm's finger moving onto the trigger, and… And Roy broke free and jumped in front of him, in front of the bullet's path. The blood was everywhere. He'd been hit right in the chest. And then, and then Roy had looked at him, looked with... something in his eye. Relief? Regret? Pain? Well, the pain had definitely been there, but why had he done it?
Then, just as Roy opened his mouth to say something, some last words, Logarithm had shot Roy again. In the arm and then in the head. The boy may have yelled something, but he couldn't remember. Everything following that point was a blur until the darkness took over.
Even a week later, at least, he thought it was a week, he still didn't understand why Roy had jumped in front of the gun. He didn't understand why Roy had saved him. HE was supposed to be doing the saving, not Roy, goddammit. Some bat he made. Roy was the true hero here. He hadn't even succeeded in getting Damian out or in preventing Logarithm from hearing of the failed escape.
And it was a failure to him. They had only managed to get a little over half the kids out, from what he could tell. Only 83. And as Logarithm savored telling him during his daily, torture sessions, many of those kids had been recaptured already and the rest were probably starving and freezing to death in the chilly, early spring weather.
The torture sessions were mostly psychological and emotional torment, so that Logarithm didn't interfere with whatever the Doctor and bluemen had planned for him physically. Logarithm also liked to remind him that his progress in the experiment was the only reason he was still alive.
He had been upgraded to going into the contraption every other day for brief spurts, and his body was constantly aching, shivers running up and down his back periodically. It seemed that he'd more than halved the kids in his experiment because there were never any others in the room during the cool down period. That is to say, he never heard anyone else enter while he was tied down to the bed so the doctors could wait for the spasms to slow down. Most of his time was spent in the small, dark cell.
So, yeah, the escape attempt was a dud, but maybe some of the kids would make it to civilization and contact help? Logarithm hadn't given him an exact number of the kids recaptured, so maybe there weren't as many as he though?
Oh, who was he kidding? They had no chance out there in the mountains. Most of the kids were from cities, not wildlife areas. While Roy would be able to identify most poisonous plants and what was edible or not, he was dead. Someone was bound to eat something poisoned and be unable to get help, and it would be all his damn fault.
Time was a fluid. It ebbed and flowed and trickled like honey depending on the situation. So, when time is immaterial and there is no clock, how was someone supposed to know when an ordeal was nearing its conclusion? There was no day and night and only guesses at constants.
When they finally decided to ease up on the restraints, Dick had no idea how much time had passed. One week? Two? A month? He didn't even know it was over until they had deposited him in his old room and allowed him to take the blindfold off. It hadn't been fully over though. They fastened an anklet around his right ankle and a collar around his neck. The anklet meant that he needed to be within five feet of a blueman or it would set off an alarm. The only exceptions were his room and the classroom, where the anklet was nullified by a signal and the desk cuffs respectively, as well as the lunchroom, where the range was extended to fifteen feet.
He learned later that everyone deemed to be involved in the escape attempt, meaning Alex and Damian, as well as everyone recaptured received an anklet, but he was the only one to receive the collar. The collar silenced him and allowed him to be punished for the smallest infractions from a distance. Logarithm and whoever was his supervisor at the moment both held remotes. The only time the collar and anklet came off was when he was hooked in for the next round of experiments. The bluemen didn't want interference in their tests.
Yeah. That's what his life had been reduced to. Walking around in a daze, unable to speak, prodded, poked, shocked, not knowing how long had passed, frequently punished, and reminded of his failed attempt at an end to the ordeal. It took prisoner to a whole new level, and wore him down past his breaking point.
The boss hadn't pulled any stops. He left no time or method for the kid to bounce back, to recover. The boy's shocked and depressed state pervaded, even past the time he was released back to the main group. The Doctor took note, and wondered how it was affecting the experiment. He requested they find a way to snap him out of it, so that the results stayed the same. After all, they couldn't put every kid they were experimenting on in the same state for a control. It would be far too destructive. Plus, the ability to only show fear and sadness did not allow for fully accurate observations.
The white hair that had been prevalent in previous experiments was coming at a much faster rate on the numb boy following the failed exodus. Seeing as the more white the sooner the subjects expired, this was cause for concern. The experiment was a longer one, and, as such, there were quite a few subjects currently on Phase 1 with the latest shipment, but the boy was one of only four remaining in Phase 2 at the moment.
If they could find a way to snap him out of the shock, they could potentially push through with the next stage. The timetable originally proposed set it in one week's time.
One week to break the shock, but keep his cooperation. Shouldn't be too hard. They just needed a push.
Dick was always so sad now. He didn't smile, didn't talk, barely acknowledged his presence, or really anyone's presence, but most importantly his. After all, it didn't matter if Dick was ignoring everyone else, so long as he paid attention to Damian. After all, Damian WAS his little brother.
Damian furrowed his brow and tugged on the older boy's arm again. It wasn't right that Dick should ignore him. It was like he didn't even feel the tugging. Damian growled at him and poked him in the side, while still grasping the older boy's hand. Dick snapped out of his funk enough to turn and look at the boy with dull eyes.
"I demand your roll," the young boy stated, glaring at Dick as if Dick was behaving incompetently. He sat up a bit on his knees in the seat next to Dick as he made his demand.
"Damian," Alex sighed, going to reprimand the boy, to remind him Dick wasn't okay, and so was caught off guard when a ghost of a smile crossed the traumatized teen's face. He slowly handed Damian the roll, gave him a ruffle, and turned back to what remained of the food he'd been fiddling with more than eating.
Damian grinned, and nibbled on the roll, satisfied with the attention given.
Unbeknownst to the group, one of the bluemen was watching nearby. He smiled as an idea came to mind. He took a few steps back and pulled out his radio. "Doctor, I think I may have a solution to 169's shock factor."
Fifteen minutes later, the kids began to release to their classrooms. The schedule of release as well as which classes kids were in had been reorganized following the mass exodus two weeks before. The classes were smaller and the troublemakers spread out. Lunch had also been reorganized, with bluemen patrolling the aisles of the seating area to check conversations. They had taken a gamble by staying in the same location, but hoped their facade as a mental institute would hold. The bosses were working on a plan to deter the Justice League, who had been searching extra hard for them lately, without directly threatening the UN, but it hadn't come together yet.
Two of the bluemen kept Dick and Damian back from going to class, keeping them in the cafeteria until all the students cleared out and were secure in classrooms. After that, the two boys were blindfolded and lead to one of the less dark detention rooms on the East side of the building. They locked Dick into a chair, but bound Damian onto the table with leather straps. A blueman took off Dick's blindfold and collar. He watched them stonily, but the blueman thought he may have seen a flicker of confusion.
They closed and locked the door.
Dick turned his sluggish gaze to his little brother. Through the mental shield he'd formed, his instincts were rearing up, telling him to get out of the chair and leave. But, there was a no way out and no point in resisting. Resistance would only lead to more pain, and nonresistance would lead to less, right?
Why was Damian here though? He hadn't been here for previous torture sessions. Why was he here now? And why was on the table instead of a chair… Oh, the restraints were probably too big, that was all.
Logarithm entered, causing a chill to quickly pass up Dick's back. "Still causing problems, are you?" He asked. The man smirked at the blank look that faced him and then observed the little one on the table. "Hmm. What have we here?"
"Dick, what's going on?" Damian asked, sensing the man above him, but unable to see him. Dick's eyes flicked to the boy, and then continued watching Logarithm. Dick sat up a bit straighter when Logarithm took a step closer, looming a bit too close for comfort. The giant smirked.
"So, here's the deal." Logarithm said, running his fingers down Damian's face. "You're doing a bit too abnormally in a fairly important experiment, but the little one's experiment is less important and wouldn't suffer much from his loss. You're going to get out of your little funk and do as we say. You won't talk about leaving or try to do so again, and we'll let you keep your collar off. If you don't, well, you won't be the one getting hurt."
"Dick…" Damian whimpered.
"Do you understand?" Dick's wide eyes stared at the monster in front of him, taking in exactly what he was saying.
"I said, do you understand?" Dick nodded frantically.
"Hmm. No verbal answer? Well, maybe then I'll just have to show you what I mean." He raised his hand above Damian.
"No!" Dick cried.
"No? No, you don't understand?" The hand came flying down like a karate chop, hitting Damian's ankle with considerable force. The young boy cried out.
"Dick!"
"NO! I mean, yes! I understand!" Dick said quickly.
Logarithm hit Damian's ankle again, this time with a loud crack filling the air. Damian started crying, trying to twist away from the pain.
"Leave him alone! Please, leave him alone! I won't fight back or try to escape, just please, leave him alone!"
Satisfied, Logarithm stepped away from Damian. "Good boy. For that, I'll even let you tend to him." He unlocked Dick from the chair and then left the room as Dick surged forward to help Damian. Dick quickly unbuckled the straps, snatched Batkitty from the floor, pushed the stuffed toy into Damian's arms, and pulled the boy into a tight hug, closing his eyes and crying as well.
"Well, that went well." One of the bluemen, who was watching from behind a one way mirror, said to Logarithm as the man reentered the room. Logarithm grunted.
"You should probably help them. I doubt the brat knows how to fix broken bones. You might want to switch the little one into his class too, so that we keep them together at all times, if this is to work."
The blueman grunted. "We'll need the Doctor and an x-ray machine to set it properly. You definitely got your point across."
"So, go get him. I'll make sure the brats don't try to leave. Although, if I really made my point, they won't even try." The blueman nodded and scrambled off. Logarithm continued watching the brat try to comfort the toddler. It was amusing to say the least.
A/N
So, Inky says this last scene was worse than the last scene in the last chapter. What do you guys think?
Good luck on NaNoWriMo to all those who are participating! I have faith in you! Just remember, even if you don't hit 50,000 words, you can still win. It will just give you a word count to beat next year. The Medium Between just hit 50,000 a chapter ago and almost a year later, and it was beating my previous record of 4,301. Don't give up! You can do it!