Inhuman (5 page)

“Um, down the hall and to the left…it’ll say…um Psychiatric Ward.” Her eyes darted aimlessly around the room as she obviously avoided making eye contact with me, and was that…sweat!? Beading on her brow? Sweat? 

What the hell?!

Turning abruptly, I walked quickly away from the crazy, rude receptionist. Looking back once, my brow furrowed as I saw her lunge for the phone and dial quickly.

Psychiatric Ward! Now what are they planning on doing to me? Electric shock therapy? Looks like the receptionist could use a good dose!

The halls felt eerily quiet, even more so than usual. In the distance, I could make out the sign I was looking for.

I wasn’t one to believe in hunches and intuition, but something about this visit was creeping me out.

As I turned down the hall, I bumped right into an assistant who I recognized from the first day of testing. As a reflex, I smiled apologetically.

The girl’s face paled more than I thought a human face could pale when she saw me. Tucking her chin into her chest, she darted past me and nearly ran down the hall toward reception.

Testing my breath quickly, I seriously wondered if I smelled bad or something. Smoothing my hair back and adjusting my clothes, I considered leaving. They had all been so polite and kind the first two days, why were these people acting so weird?

Opening the door that led to the ward, I was surprised to see so many people standing there. All in black suits, four men stood before me, apparently having a private discussion as their voices were hushed.

Upon noticing my arrival, they silenced immediately and turned to me.

“Miss Tiponi.” An older gentlemen spoke, his ice blue eyes piercing mine as he walked toward me. Not extending his hand to shake mine, he stated with a Cheshire grin. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Please sit down.” Though his words were polite, his request sounded more like an order.

A nervous flutter in my stomach made me feel nauseous. Was I in trouble? Maybe I wasn’t supposed to use the medical faculties’ money for my tuition.

Maybe…I seriously had no idea; this was all just getting weirder and weirder.

“Miss Tiponi.” The man in black rolled my name off his tongue like a snake hissing. An odd gleam in his eye inspired a fresh wave of nervousness to roll through my system. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, and the stupid thing was, I didn’t have a reason to be worried. Did I?

“Is there a…problem?” I could hardly stop my teeth from chattering as I spoke.

My mind searched every crevice of memory for any reason why I might be in trouble. Looking around the little room they’d put me in, I realized that the door had no handle on the inside…I was locked in.

His hand lay protectively over a manila folder in front of him, tapping it lightly; he chuckled as he repeated rhetorically. “Is there a problem? Why don’t you tell me?” His face flickered with an instant irritation as he stared at me.

“I honestly don’t…know what you’re talking about? I’m only here for testing…for tuition.” My temper suddenly flared when I answered.

How dare he lock me in here for no reason! I had rights and I realized they were being violated. Amy would have a field day with these assholes! “Look! I have rights…”

Slamming his hand down on the file, he leaned over the table and put his face directly into mine. His expression was…violent. I leaned far back into my seat, clutching the arms of the chair with a steel grip. Instantly silenced, tears fought their way to the corners of my eyes.

“Where were you born?” He began as he flipped open the folder in front of him, holding a pen over a blank piece of paper as he awaited my answer.

“I…don’t know. I was…abandoned there, in the cave.” The tears that had been cowering in the corners of my eyes released and ran down my cheeks with shame. Wiping them away with the cuff of my sweatshirt, I slouched even further into my seat.

Slamming his pencil down, the man in black stared at me with a cold and hardened expression. “I can see that you’re not going to be very forthcoming.”

My eyes widened with fear and disbelief. “I’m telling you the truth!”

“That’s a ridiculous story and you know it! I want to know
where
you are from!” His face shaded red as he smashed two fists onto the table.

Suddenly the door opened and another man, also dressed in black, entered. “That’s enough. Out.” The first man left, closing the door hard behind him.

“Miss Tiponi. I’m Agent Evans.” Taking a seat in front of me, his face was calm. His green eyes were kinder than the last man’s, but still had a cold stare that froze my soul. “We need to get to the bottom of this, please answer our questions honestly or we’ll have to move on to more extreme measures.”

“I am being honest!” My voice was becoming shrill as I felt the grips of a panic attack crawling through my system.

“Alright.” He sighed as he too opened the folder and held the pen over the paper. “Let’s try again. Where are you from?”

The same questions over and over, for hours and hours. I had no idea how long I’d been sequestered in that tiny room, but it was long enough for me to become so tired that I finally just rested my head on the table and closed my eyes as they relentlessly pursued my past.

Never once did they explain why they wanted this information. Over and over, they took turns grilling me about my birth, my parents and my history. They wanted every detail of my upbringing, medical attention and knowledge of my ancestors. I answered every single question to the best of my ability…but they would not believe me.

Falling onto the floor, I huddled into a ball and rocked back and forth. All I could do was cry. They’d worn me down to but a mere shadow of myself. I was willing to tell them anything at this point. Anything that would make them let me go.

Chapter 6

A sting in my thigh, that’s the last thing I recalled after I woke up.

I remembered hearing someone coming toward me, but I didn’t look up from my little spot on the floor. Pushing me roughly onto my side, I felt a small, but distinct, sting in my right thigh.

Then…darkness.

Reality blurred with dreams as I lay upon a cot in the corner of a white room. I had enough sense to survey my surroundings, even though my vision wasn’t quite cooperating yet. Straining my eyes, I clumsily lifted my head to look around. In a far corner sat a polished porcelain toilet, beside it, a matching sink. Every other corner was empty.

A door, a cot, a toilet and a sink. All white.

In my drugged stupor, I laughed as I compared the room to a heavenly hell. Trapped in the tiny white room, I cried stupid tears…the kind that come when you’re laughing hard, not from being happy, but from sheer delirium.

I pushed myself to sitting and swung my legs over the side of the cot. Holding my head in my hands, I tried to focus so I could stand and walk to the toilet. Stumbling as I stood, I stooped over and held onto the cot for support until I could reach the wall. Sliding my hand along the cold cement surface, I made my way to the toilet. I hadn’t been allowed to go the entire time during the inquisition and my entire lower half was screaming for release.

Undoing my jeans, pulling them down and sitting quickly, I sighed loudly as my bladder emptied. The sound of my relief reverberated off the four white walls. Happy that I’d enough control not to release my fluids while I was drugged, I surmised that I couldn’t have been under that long or maybe I had been out for days and my body was just being pleasantly compliant.

Considering how the bastards had denied me of any water, I might simply have been extremely dehydrated.

Eyeing the sink as I pulled up my pants, I hurriedly fastened the button. 

Turning the cold knob on as far as it would go, I bent over the sink and shoveled a least a quart of water down my throat with cupped hands. Splashing the frigid water onto my face and streaming it through my hair with my fingers, I allowed a moan of contentment to escape me.

Pacing back and forth in my ivory den, I questioned my sanity. Maybe I had done something terrible and simply didn’t remember. But that didn’t seem to be the point of the questioning session. The agents wanted to know about my birth, my parents and medical history.

None of it added up.

My stomach growled angrily at me, demanding nourishment. Drinking another round of water sustained me for a little while…but not for long.

After another immeasurable amount of time imprisoned within my cell, I began banging on the door, demanding food.

Surprisingly, within about fifteen minutes, a narrow, hinged access flipped open at the bottom of the door and a rectangular tray was slid through. Pulling off the lid, I was greeted with a plate of steaming hot spaghetti. My hands shook as I removed the fork from its napkin cocoon and plunged into the meal. With every bite, I could feel my blood sugar rising and energy rush throughout my body.

After devouring the entire plateful, I laid down on the cot and let my stomach settle. Before long, I heard the ominous sound of keys jingling just outside the door.

Sitting up with a mixed sense of fear and relief, I smoothed back my wild and tangled hair. Strangely, I actually desired some human contact despite the inhumane interactions with the last ones.

A silver cart with an assortment of medical supplies preceded an attendant dressed in a white lab coat.

“Hello.” My voice was gritty and weak from the crying and screaming during the interrogation.

My polite welcome elicited no response whatsoever. The attendant simply pushed the cart into the center of the room, stood before me and stared at the back wall with no expression.

Examining the implements on the tray, I felt my heart sink and my stomach churn with fresh nerves. Organized neatly were several large syringes, various scalpels, scissors and disinfectant wipes.

This looks painful
. My lips fell into a downward curve as I shivered with anticipation.

Mentally and physically preparing myself for the next stage of suffering, I watched as several agents in black filed into my tiny torture chamber.

Oddly, I was mildly relieved to see Agent Evans leading the pack. All the rest were unfamiliar. A blonde, blue-eyed agent at the back of the group sneered at me and eyed my chest.

Averting my eyes to the floor, I awaited the next onslaught of questions.

“Restrain her.” Agent Evans commanded his team. Obeying immediately, four agents rushed at me all at once. Two pinned my arms down while the other two grabbed my legs. I attempted to fight, but was quickly overtaken. The agents retrieved cotton straps from the underside of the cot and placed one around each of my limbs.

The four compliant agents then backed off, satisfied that I was sufficiently controlled. As I stared at the ceiling, hot tears rolled down my temples. Beside me, I could hear the light clinking of the implements being readied.

“We want eight vials of blood, four tissue samples and a hair sample.”

Nodding, the lab tech prepared a syringe to draw my blood. I tried my best to remain calm, but my entire body shivered with fear.