Persona (15 page)

“That’s enough Dana.” Fletcher admonishes her.

There is something in the way she talks that makes Moira believe her. It doesn’t make her feel any safer though, she noticed the woman said she doesn’t wish to. Meaning she’ll probably be forced to later on, or someone else will. So lost in thought, she wasn’t prepared for the needle to pierce her skin. It stings, but she works quickly and it’s over before it began. Gathering the blood filled tubes, the woman leaves the room without saying a word. Fletcher has been leaning on the wall next to her bed, and is just watching her. More like trying to understand her very being, but Moira knows he’ll have to do more than stare to fully understand her. With a jerk, he pushes himself from the wall.

“Forgive me for not thinking of it sooner, but have you eaten?” He asks.

Moira hesitates for a second, not sure if he’s teasing her or not. But gives in and says, “No, not since school.”

“Good. We’re starting tests soon, and I’d hate for you to have a full stomach.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a syringe, and Moira notices this one is not empty.

She feels sick to her stomach suddenly and hates not knowing what is going to happen to her. He gets to her side before she can even protest, and sticks the syringe into her hip. Even as he pulls it out and backs up, the room starts to spin. She tries to move, but her limbs feel too heavy and numb. Her vision darkens as Fletcher turns and walks out the door. Her last though before being swept under, is what kind of tests are they going to do?

***

At the edge of darkness, Moira can feel needles pricking the skin of her arms, and tries to push to the surface. There are voices now, and movement in the small room. Strange male and female voices penetrate her sleep muddled mind, and where she is comes flooding in. With a cry, she opens her eyes as wide as they can go and tries to see what they are doing to her.

The room is so bright, that tears form and she has to blink them away to see clearly. Two men in scrubs are beside the bed and both are grasping an arm, and each hold a syringe carrying her blood. They glance at her briefly, noticing she is awake, but go back to capping the syringes and pocketing them. They step back and go to a cart in now in the corner of the room. Two women is scrubs step up to the bed now, and Moira can’t see what else is on the cart from around them. They are both holding what looks like measuring tape and small notebooks. The woman on her right is reaching for her head, and the other is going for her feet. Not understanding what they can possibly be doing, she tries to shake their hands from her.

Moira turns her head from side to side to get the woman probing her head to stop. Sighing, the woman steps back and she gets a look at her face. She’s young, a lot younger than Moira first thought. She’s around college age and has very bold features. Her eyes seem too wide for her face. She doesn’t look friendly like the other woman who took her blood. If anything, this girl looks like someone who takes pleasure in other people pain. This makes goose bumps break out on Moira skin, and she loses any protests that were making their way to her mouth. So she stills and lets her woman continue her work of measuring her head and face.

Lying still in her quiet panic, she becomes aware of everything else in the room. Beside the plain woman at her feet, and the two men behind her at a cart, there are a couple others behind her. She can’t see them, but she can hear them hooking something to the wall. It sounds like cords dragging and snapping together, and she wishes she could see what they were doing. Even after sleeping whoever knows how long, Moira doesn’t feel rested. If anything she feels more exhausted and weak. Her mouth is so dry, that her tongue feels thick in her mouth. Her head is still aching, and wonders if it’s from dehydration or the sleeping medication they keep giving her. It doesn’t matter though, she thinks, it all has the same result. Feeling so weak, not even her persona come forward still and this scares her more than these facility staff members.

One of the hidden people behind her comes into her view, and is pulling something behind him. It’s a saline drip bag attached to a metal pole with a hook. The bag already has long tubing connected to the bottom and hangs freely. The man is hunched over and doesn’t even look at her, as he gets an IV needle and tape from his pocket. He just stops beside her and grabs her arm on her left. It’s still steadily dripping blood from the other guys, but this doesn’t stop him. He opens the needle from the small packaging it’s in and sticks it into her arm. Moira flinches and cries out, she feels sick to her stomach when she sees the blood flow from the tiny end sticking out of her arm. The man gets the tubing and connects it to the needle. A small amount of blood starts to leak into the tube, but he presses something on the needle and it stops. He turns away and presses something at the tubing near the bag, and Moira can see the saline falling in a steady drip from the bag and into the tube. As it makes its way closer to her arm, she prays that it’s actually saline and not something else.

Turning back to her, the man gets the tape out and secures the needle into her arm. The liquid in the tube reaches her veins as the man walks out of her view again. Her arm feels tight for a moment before is makes its way into her blood and all she feels is cool. Right away she feels her strength come back to her, and is glad to know that it was saline. The woman at her head is now measuring her finger nails, and the other woman is measuring her legs, when the door opens. Moira see’s Fletcher comes into the room pushing something in front of him, and can’t help the feeling of unease that she feels at seeing him again. Whatever he’s pushing is covered on another cart, so Moira doesn’t know what it is. She does notice that he appears to be in a good mood, so whatever it is, it can’t be good.

Everyone in the room stops what they are doing and look at him. With a wave of his hand, they all retreat from they’re work and line in single file along the wall. They all share the same blank look, and Moira wonders how these people could just follow orders so blindly. It makes her sick, but worse is Fletcher stopping the cart at the foot of the bed and walking towards her.

“I trust my assistants have been treating you well, my dear.” He says as he reaches for something under the bed near her head.

The bed jerks and groans and Moira is suddenly in a sitting position. Her stomach rolls as she tries to collect her bearings.

“Oh yes, they have been very hospitable.” Moira chokes out. Even with the saline drip, her throat still feels raw making her voice foreign to her ears.

Chuckling, Fletcher goes over to the now visible cart in the corner of the room. It’s a long wide shelf of a cart, and it’s holding a number of surgical equipment. His hands hover over the items, as if he’s trying to decide what he wants. It has to be for my benefit though, because he steps to the end of it and grabs a syringe holding a yellow liquid. Turning back to Moira with a smile, he holds the needle out to her.

“Do you know what this is?” He doesn’t wait for a response from her as he continues. “This here is my very own creation.”

Opening the cap on the syringe he glides over to the side of the bed where the saline bag on the pole is. He doesn’t add it to the bag yet though, he watches Moira anticipating what she’s going to ask. She doesn’t keep him waiting, even though she doesn’t really want to know what he could have made now.

“What is it?”

“What is it, you ask? Well it’s a weapon for your kind, Moira. I’m going to be testing it on you, today. You should feel lucky, you’ll be the first.” With a smile, he pokes the needle into a hook at the bottom of the saline bag.

Moira is beyond terrified now, she has no idea what type of weapon he’s talking about. She mentally prepares herself for possible death. She watches the yellow liquid makes its way into her arm. With a cry, she feels the liquid reach her, and it burns her veins. It travels up her arm and goes everywhere at once, leaving a hot sensation throughout her body. Sure she’s going to die any second. She tries to not appear afraid as Fletcher watches her. Then the heat is gone. Confused, she flexes her arms and legs and wonders what happened. She looks to Fletcher questioningly, but he walks away from her and back to the covered cart at her feet.

“What was that? What did you do to me?” Moira yells at him.

Ignoring her questions, he says, “I want you to use your, what do you people call it, persona? Bring it forward now.”

Confused, Moira shakes her head no. Even if she wanted to, she doesn’t want to satisfy him. He doesn’t seem mad though, if anything her answer pleases him. He reaches for the end of the blanket covering the cart, and pulls it off. It takes Moira a while to see what it’s holding, but when she does. Her body goes cold with fright. It’s a defibrillator machine, with the paddles and all. Knowing she’s not dying anymore, is scared to know what he wants with that. Uselessly she struggles against the shackles that are holding her down, in an attempt to get away.

“So I see you know what this is, good. Now, I repeat that I want you to use your persona. Refuse me again, and I’ll be forced to use this to make you.”

With wide eyes, Moira tries to use all her terror to bring her persona forward. In the past, she’s had no problem using it at will, but she struggles with it now. Her body feels so weak, and she doesn’t feel the familiar sensation that comes with her persona. Closing her eyes in concentration, she tries harder. Nothing happens still, and tears fall from her closed eyes. Looking back to Fletcher, who is grinning so wide that all his teeth are seen, Moira shakes her head no.

“I can’t, please.” She begs.

“Oh good, I’d hope you say that. The medication I gave you, stunts your abilities.” He says as he turns something on at the machine, and picks the paddles up and brings them to her chest. “Let’s see if it stays away permanently, shall we?”

***

As soon as the paddles touch her covered chest, a shock so startling hits her body. She feels herself fall back deeper into the bed, while she screams in pain. Her arms and legs shake, and she grits her teeth against the currents working into her. Underneath the shock, she can feel the familiar sensation of something else pushing against her skin. With a warm rush, she feels her body change itself all at once. The current is gone from her chest now, and when she opens her eyes the room is sharper and clearer. Moira can feel a warmth run down her throat, and realizes her now pointed teeth have bitten her tongue. She flexes her shackled hands and can see the nails are now pointed too.

All pain has left her body, and she feels rejuvenated. It doesn’t last long though, because her eyes get drawn to Fletcher who is now frowning. He motions for one of the people along the wall over, and he hands the paddles to a dark haired man. Stepping back to the other cart, Fletcher reaches for another needle.

“Let’s try that again, hmm?” He says as he goes to the pole near her again, and Moira feels the persona slip away as the liquid reaches her.

“Oh and Moira dear? Happy Birthday.”

Crying, Moira closes her eyes and tries to push everything from her mind. But after many more trials of hot liquid and shock currents, Moira can no longer feel her body. Eventually she blacks out from the pain and her persona stops coming back.

When Moira wakes up again, Fletcher is gone from the room. Several of the assistants are back to taking measurements of her. The one closest to the saline drip, presses the button to release more, when they notice she’s awake. She barely has time to take everything in before it all goes dark again.

The next time Moira wakes, she’s in an MRI tube. The machine is making a chugging noise, and it feels like it’s closing in on her. She almost notices that she’s not strapped down to anything, when there is movement behind her, and she falls back into the darkness.

Sudden pain and shock pull Moira back to wakefulness. She’s back to lying down on the bed I her white cell. Fletcher is standing over her holding the defibrillator paddles on her chest. The electric currents are running through her body, and when she begins shaking and screaming her persona come to the front and saves her. It hums beneath her skin likes its own current and she feels her features change. Fletcher steps back and two men in scrubs come forward with surgical pliers. One on her left grabs hold of her hand, and with a hard yank, he removes her pinkie nail. Moira screams and bucks against the bed, and doesn’t even have time to process why they are doing this, when the other guys reaches for her mouth. She yells and twists her head from side to side. Both guys are prying her mouth open now and one of them is reaching in with small pliers. As he grasps a sharpened tooth at the back, she gets sucked back into the darkness.

Moira wakes again, and before she opens her eyes, she feels the tears run down her face form the pain. Her head feels like fireworks are going off inside, and her gums are sore. She moves her jaw a bit and from the ache of it, she knows they took a tooth. Opening her eyes, she finds that she’s alone in the darkened room. She twists in the bed and looks around to be sure, and a sharp stabbing pain digs into her abdomen. Looking down at herself, she notices she’s been undressed and changed into a white hospital gown. A blood stain is slowly forming a line along her abdomen, and with the pain she is terrified to know what happened to her.

There is an IV in each arm now, and both have their own drip bag. There are a dozen sticky things attached to her chest and each has a wire coming out to a machine by her bed. It looks like a machine that shows the heart beat and blood pressure, but it’s off just like the lights. With her wrists and ankles still shackled Moira doesn’t know what to do. The only things she can do, is lay still and try to ignore all the pain in her body. She tries to call on her persona, but she is too weak to be successful. With a sob, she turns her head into the pillow. When the staff and Fletcher come back, she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to hold on any longer. Her stomach stopped growling long ago, but she doesn’t know how long it’s been since she’s eaten. The saline drip can’t keep her going forever. Her body feels beaten and bruised, and even with just waking.