The sound of several pairs of footsteps and muffled voices sprung us into action again. In a flurry Marcus scooped up the soft blanket, tossing it onto me. When I fixed it around my shoulders I looked up to find him, back at his computer chair, typing away. Timmy was seated on the couch, with an obvious tension in the way he sat. His left leg started bouncing up and down rapidly, and one of his hands rubbed a page of the book to calm himself.
Bobo and Donald arrived first, followed by Mr. Alushin and a Melody who hung on his very words. A joke was told and they all laughed before claiming the room for themselves.
They spread out, flooding the large room with their presence and voices. Donald strode over to check in with Marcus as Melody gave Timothy a look that must have made him want to leave because he vacated that seat in a hurry. Melody grabbed Mr. Alushin's arm and tugged him down to sit next to her on the couch. I tuned out their conversation as I watched Timothy, fidget, scan the room for a place to occupy, and then slowly walk the long way around the room to stand near me without really standing next to me.
He offered me a quick, one-sided smile before fiddling with a picture hanging on the wall. I could make out the picture enough from the angle I was at to see it was a forest, lush and green. He tilted it one way, and then the other, before making it straight again. He seemed pleased to have it straight, and I felt an urge to just tip it slightly, just to watch him fiddle with it again.
I did a quick scan of the room, no one was looking our way, they were consumed with their own conversations. Quietly, I slipped off of the chair, clutching the blanket around my shoulders, and tentatively inched towards Timmy. He noticed my approach and his eyes widened. He checked over his shoulder and then motioned for me to go back to the chair. I gave a small smile and reached out for the painting. The confusion clear on his face and the thrill made me want to laugh. It's fun to play with someone, isn't it? Just don't get caught! The voice reminded me. My hand now hovered the corner of the art when I gave a slight nod so the voice knew I listened. Timmy's eyebrows drew together as he tried to figure out what I was doing.
And then I pushed it. Just a fraction out of place before slipping back towards my chair. Over my shoulder I watched him glance confusedly between me and the painting. Finally it dawned on him what I did.
He whispered so quietly it was hard to hear "are you playing with me?" He seemed so miffed at my actions. My shoulders shook with a giddy, childish joy; I hadn't played with anyone in so long. I gave a slow nod and mouthed back to him "dare you not to fix it."
He caught my meaning and looked back at the painting. He tensed and cracked his neck, fistspressed to his side. I watched as Timmy switched the weight of his feet, glared at me only to look back at the crookedness and twitch. With another glare in my direction he raised his hand to correct it.
"Ah, Mr. Alushin, I apologize for my tardiness. A customer had called about some sort of misunderstanding on his part. After re-reading the contract he came to an understanding." He walked in, his voice halting all conversations. Mr. Alushin rose from his seat to accept a handshake from him. My blood ran cold as I watched, like he would be able to tell something had changed in his absence.
"Oh, no worries, Sir. Your cousin Melody has been a gracious tour guide. We visited your building out in West Mayfield. The place certainly has… character. I've been doing some thinking on my own recently, and I think you'll be quite interested hearing the details." Mr Alushin's smooth voice carried well in the space that seemed infinitely smaller compared to an hour ago. "Why don't we meet for a drink later, and I'll bring the materials with me?"
He nodded his head in contemplation. "Sounds good, but I'll have to pass on the drinks. We haven't tested the most recent medication's reaction to alcohol. Wouldn't want my mind shutting down on me over something so minor."
"Ah no, of course not. Then maybe some good steaks instead?" Mr. Alushin suggested in return. "I know a great place, service is great, food is even better, and you don't have to worry about noisy listeners there." When I turned my attention back to him though, I shivered. He was looking right at me, not even hearing Mr. Alushin's words, and with the look of a child with a new toy in his eyes. He started walking slowly to me, his caramel colored eyes becoming clearer to me while I wished to erase them from my mind. I backed up as far as possible in the seat and tried to keep calm, he hated hysterics as much as he hated… well, me.
I gulped and suppressed a shiver. When he was close enough I could smell the sweet cologne clinging to his pale grey sports jacket. "I know what we can do. We'll put off our talk for a night or two. In the meantime we can test what would happen if we mixed the drug with a bit of alcohol. We do have our very own little guinea pig, now don't we?" My bloods started pumping faster and faster in my ears as his words registered. He wanted to do a test. I fought to keep myself from hyperventilating at the thought. They haven't done one of their tests in months. The last one left me feverish and sick for days, until I had finally passed out and woke up with an IV drip. A small squeak escaped my mouth and I bit my tongue to keep from begging him to change his mind.
He lifted his hand in a calculated movement, and in a robotic way, he caressed my cheek. I couldn't stop the flinch from his touch. I watched the edge of his mouth tick as he pressed forward, rubbing his palm against my cheek in a way that should have been comforting. A vague memory of my mother overlaid reality and I saw Mommy patting my cheek the same way. I let myself escape in the fuzzy memory for a precious second only to be drawn out by the sharp tug on my scalp.
With a jerk, he ripped me from my seat by the hair on the back of my head. The blanket Timmy had fetched fell from my shoulders to the floor."Richard, get the leather straps. Timothy, the medicine. Ten milligrams should be enough. In an hour we'll give her something strong. Scotch? That will work. Marcus find some. Melody, dear, get the lab ready." Everyone snapped into action at his command, Melody's high heels clicking softly against the hard floors. In seconds there was only the three of us left in the main room: Mr. Alushin, him, and I.
I couldn't hold back the soft whimper of fear that escaped my lips. He didn't seem to notice, or care, but simply tightened his grip on my hair. Mr. Alushin on the other hand now stared at me, his mouth ever so slightly open. His expression was schooled but in his eyes I saw -no felt- his horror and guilt. He must have had an idea of what their experiments might entail. Of course he would though, he had been talking business deals with the devil incarnate. But the subtle look in his eyes confirmed a subconscious feeling that he wasn't a man who enjoyed inflicting pain.
The moment ticked by and a watch gave a quiet beep. He let go of my hair to twist his wrist to check the hour. I used the chance to scurry backwards and put space in between the two of us. He didn't seem to care, he knew I couldn't escape him for long even if I was to get out of the converted warehouse. "Mr. Alushin, do you wish to stick around and wait to see the results of this experiment? If it proves successful then I would love to have a drink with you. It's been a long while since I could enjoy a good whiskey." he asked of Mr. Alushin, whom hesitated before giving a curt nod.
Mr. Alushin turned his back to us and sat back down in the corner of the worn couch. With a sigh he gestured to other side. "How long do you believe we would have to wait to see the effects?" he asked after my captor had sat down with a flop. "Even if effects are not immediate, there might be damage that would become apparent in the morning, or if these two mix on a regular occurrence." He slid a fleeting glance to me that conveyed he didn't give a rat's ass what 'damage' could happen. He brushed a hand through his dark bangs back over his head and rubbed. The fact he was actually thinking up a proper answer astounded me.
His words were not something that brought hope, no, they squeezed my heart with their implications. "I only take two-point-five milligrams, and the medicine is rather quick acting. We know how to monitor brain waves to double check that it fully in effect, after that, I hope it will pick up any changes in the chemical balances caused by the alcohol. The result could be anything though. She could die or nothing could happen, maybe the medicine will just stop working. We don't have any predictions on the outcome but that is why we test these things first on guinea pigs, right?" His sardonic smile chilled me and I suppressed another shiver. He turned back around to face Mr. Alushin. "We were quite lucky to find Juliett so quickly. Not many children can be so perfect a match for these experiments. The first three children we -ah- checked out, weren't a fit, you see. I thought we may have had to go through twenty or so till we found a healthy and sound child that would work. And look, she's lasted a lot longer than we expected her to. We all placed bets when she first came to us on how long she would live, and she's outlived every one of them," he started to laugh as if my life was a joke to him, that my ability to still breath was somehow amusing.
I watched as Mr. Alushin shifted slightly in his chair. He let out a low chuckle but his eyes weren't looking at either of us, like he was calculating something. When he looked back to him, he was smiling. "So you're saying, Pierce, that there was three other children before this miss here came into your care?" Mr. Alushin managed to make his question come off as simple curiosity but there was something in his green eyes that didn't match up. A seriousness there.
"Oh yes, they were little monsters. Those boys wouldn't listen, not like Juliet. They would always fight and curse. They never took the time to look at the bigger picture here. That's why I thought to look for a girl. They are so much sweeter." He looked in my direction with a wistful expression, not really seeing me there. After a few seconds his eyes focused and hardened on me, the slight smile on his lips turning into a frown. As he stared, the frown deepened and he was practically glaring. I felt the first beads of sweat form at the base of my neck. I knew this look. It was the warning before hell broke lose.
He slowly rose from his seat on the leather couch and started towards me, taking deliberate steps. Mr. Alushin rose as well, glancing between us. He visibly gulped and I felt his facade crack. He was scared. Scared for me. "Pierce, what do you have in mind?" Mr. Alushin managed to keep his voice even, and it brought him back from wherever his mind goes in these moments. My captor paused slowly relaxed his stance. There was one final twitch of his face before an easy smile was on his face again.
"Oh, nothing really. I was thinking of having some fun before the others are ready for her in the lab. But now might not be the best time." I breathed out the breathe I was holding at his words, letting my tense shoulders drop. "I'll have all day tomorrow to do so," he said with a wink in my direction.
My heart stopped for a moment and my vision swam with black dots. Breathe! the voice in my head wailed and I did. Don't do that. You need to keep your wits for the both of us, you hear? it spoke to me in a soft whisper like it was afraid that he would hear into my head as well. I forced myself to breathe slowly, in through my nose and out through my mouth. When I could no longer hear the pounding of my heart in my ears, I looked up to see I was back to being ignored.
I stayed where I was for a while, watching the two talk without hearing their words. My trance was broken by Timmy entering the room first, followed by Marcus and Donald. And so the game began.
I didn't fight Donald as he dragged me by my twisted arm. The discomfort was a weak meow compared to the roaring panic building in ferocity in my chest. His hands were cold but they brought back memories when I fought back. This was not the time to reminisce. I was drug through the hallway at the rear of the group and down a flight of stairs. Ahead, I could hear Melody's high pitched voice welcome Mr. Alushin to their "little lab," that just so happened to be filled with all sorts of whiz-dads that inflicted pain or deprived me of my senses.
I kept my head down as I passed through the metal doorway. The heavy doors shut behind me with a definite click. A low whistle was given in appreciation of the room and Donald tossed me roughly to the floor. The way I was held made it impossible to brace in time and my head slammed into the floor with a sick thud. My vision blurred either from pain or tears but I wasn't sure, all I could focus on was the pair of men's dress shoes in front me. My head slowly tipped back, to find Marcus standing there in his dress slacks and a light grey polo, hair still tied back with a rubber band.
I felt both a hollow hope and burdening dread at the sight of his face. Sure, he wasn't a friend, but he wasn't an enemy either. I watched as he blinked away the signs of discomfort on his face. Marcus shook his head slowly and humored with the group, "you sure you want to waste a bottle of scotch on her?"
The sound of laughter was echoed and amplified in the sterile room. I tuned out the sound of them and forced myself into a trance. I didn't want to hear their voices or know the gritty details of the whatever they had planned. Nothing they could do to me would surprise me anymore. I closed my eyes and counted off the beats of my heart, the filling and emptying of my lungs. I let myself be pulled off the floor and pushed into a chair. The familiar leather straps came down on my wrists and around my waist, binding me to the cold metal of the test chair, and I accepted it all without protest. The sounds of voices were a low rumble in my ears and someone slid the sleeve of my shirt up on my right arm. The slight prick of a needle made my eyes flutter open. Melody's manicured nails were circling my thin arm and forcing the amber liquid into my bloodstream.
A sense of nausea rose up and I forced it back down, swallowing thickly. My old fear of needles was almost laughable, but the effects of whatever "medicine" they gave me never failed to make me wish for freedom more. The needle was removed and I stole a quick glance at the red skin on my right shoulder, riddled with little scars from past injection. A small droplet of blood had welled up in place of the needle and I watch in fascination as it inflated and then rested in a bubble shape upon my arm. When the first wave of headaches hit, I shut my eyes and shut the pain out. I breathed deeply, flexing my fingers and toes, prepping for the next round. It was more unpleasant than I remembered. The third wave forced a whimper out of my lips. I clenched my teeth, holding back from making another sound.
I was no longer aware of my surroundings. There was just me restrained to my seat and the pain in my head. No, I am still here with you, the harshness of the voice cut through the pain for a brief second. I hurt too. You're not alone in this pain, remember. I nodded my response, and felt blood in my head slosh like honey, slow and heavy.
Muffled voices broke through the darkness and then a new pain. My eyes flew open, and I twisted my jaw. The pain was from a backhand, and the one in front of me poised for another strike was Donald. His usual grumpiness was nowhere to be found. He was excited by this. Lucky for me, his hit made it possible to focus again.
Everyone was gathered around, sitting in different chairs and leaning on desks in the lab. Timmy's gaze was the only one trained on me. I could see the worry in his face even from this distance, and to my surprise he wasn't fidgeting or twitching at all. That fact was astounding but made me seriously think about the his plan. Not only was Timmy standing stock still, but Donald looked giddy like a child on christmas morning. This was going to be a very bad experience for me. A very, very, bad one.
"Yo! Boss, she's awake again. You want to go through with the alcohol?" Donald's shout grated against my ears, causing another wave of pain to pound in my head. Dizziness washed over me and I started to pitch forward. "Oh no you don't, you're staying awake or I get to slap you again. Not that I'm complaining." Donald's arms caught me, roughly grabbing and squeezing me, making me cough and draw in a shaky breath. With a shove, I was slammed back into my seat, my head bouncing off the back. This time red and green spots swam before my eyes, falling like confetti. "That's better, sweetie," he said with a pat on my head.
He was engaged in a deep conversation with Mr. Alushin, but gestured Marcus forward with a lazy flick of the wrist. Marcus grabbed a glass and the bottle of Scotch. He paused only a second in hesitation before heading my way. Donald switched places, and said over his shoulder to Marcus, "if she starts to fall asleep, give a good ol' slap, will ya?" I shuddered, hoping Marcus wouldn't go that far, but still trying to wake myself up more none the less. The pounding in my head was subsiding enough for me to think straight again.
Marcus gave Donald a smile and a nod, but it was forced. Marcus turned to face me, looking apologetic. It wasn't his fault, I knew that, but I still wanted to scream. This small bit of peace I have gotten used to in these past few weeks has ruined me. I used to not care if they did their stupid experiments, I wasn't afraid anymore. But now... now I wanted to cry and beg. Marcus poured the drink into a glass and held it to my lips. The cool glass pressed against my lips, but I couldn't force myself to take a sip.
Marcus heaved a sigh and glanced over his shoulder. The others were busy talking, paying us no mind. Timmy was fiddling with his shirt. Marcus turned back to me with a beseeching look. I shook my head slightly, wary of giving myself another headache. Marcus only pressed the glass harder against my mouth, it was almost painful now but I refused.
"Come on," he whispered to me, shoving the glass again against my lips. I felt some of the scotch splash on my upper lip, the woodsy scent tickling my nose. "Juliett you need to drink this, I don't want to hurt you but this is unavoidable. Just drink it, please."
A pathetic sounding whimper escaped me, but I refused to open my mouth. He withdrew the glass back from my face by an inch and looked at the bottle in his other hand. He was thinking something, and I wasn't sure what. When he looked back to me, his eyes were steeled over. I knew there was no chance of winning now. He held the glass back up to my lips and commanded me with one word, "drink."
I obeyed. It was just a small sip at first but the taste was foreign and it sort of mixed together, my panic being the strongest taste at the moment. I continued to sip the drink, taking it one gulp at a time. I finished the glass and breathed in my first deep breathe. That is, till I saw Marcus pour another drink.
He answered my look quietly, "you're to drink the whole bottle." Oh joy, this is going to be long night, the voice in my head responded sarcastically. It sounded foggier than usual, like it was coming from a distance away and not from inside my head. I blamed the double-dose of meds.
"What is taking you so long, Marcus? She should have finished off the bottle by now," his voice abruptly came from across the room. I watched as he turned to Mr. Alushin and told him to 'wait a moment'. Then, he stalked towards us. My heart, pounding in my ears, fell into rhythm with his steps. When he was standing next to me, looming over my seated position, he yanked the bottle of scotch out of Marcus's hand.
He gestured for Marcus to back off, and he did; leaving me alone to face him. My captor didn't beat around the bush, he always got the job done quickly. He grabbed my face with his left hand, pinching down on my jaw and forcing it open. In his right hand was the bottle of scotch. He didn't bother to pour into a cup first. Instead, he went right to pouring it in my mouth.
The scotch warmed its way down my throat. I wanted to cough it up but I was afraid I would choke on it, so I continued to swallow mouthful after mouthful of the golden liquid. Finally, the onslaught relented. The last drops slid down my throat, and the hand released my face. I couldn't help the coughs now, and they came, clawing up my throat.
He lowered himself to eye level with me. His lips slowly transformed into the smile I remember from nine years ago. The smile that tricked me, looking so charming and trustworthy. A twisted part of me was happy to see it again; the rest of me would love nothing more than for his face to be dumped into burning acid at the moment.
"Sweet, sweet Juliet, how are you feeling, child? Do you hear the voices? Do they scream? Do you feel pain? Tell me, child, or you WILL feel pain. I promise," he cooed at me.