Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
ETHAN
Light slides between my eyelids as I flutter them open. No longer am I stuck in some underground basement like earlier. Bright lights assault my eyes as I look around, taking in the metallic chrome and sterile room. Above me, a huge, round light fixture catches my gaze.
Am I in an operating room?
I go to move my arm, but it doesn’t budge. Nothing moves. I’m stuck there, immobile, barely breathing. Do they think I’m dead? Thankfully, I can roll my head to either side and see that I’m alone. Strange machines beep along the walls as strange symbols run along the screens.
None of this makes any sense. I long to cry out, to seek help in any way I can, but my much cooler mind prevails and urges me to stay silent. Maybe I’m in a detox center. That honestly makes better sense than anything else my brain is conjuring up right now.
You’ll never be clean.
Don’t trust city folks. They aren’t like us.
The conflicting voices coalesce in my mind until I cannot tell one voice from the other. It’s madness. The feelings of dread and hopelessness continue to pound into me, weighing me down until I worry I cannot catch a breath. All I want is that blessed relief only Jeffery can provide.
You’ll never get clean.
“Yes I can, damn it. Just fucking watch me,” I hiss through tight lips.
At my pronouncement, a soft whoosh greets my ears. Two more of the blue fuckers stride in, but these aren’t the same ones from before. These are someone else. I make my living based on looks and can tell the most minute differences even in identical twins.
Their suits mold to their bodies, leaving very little to the imagination. Man, if Jeffery were here right now, he’d try to recruit them. They seem more like models than serial killers or medical personnel. Well, that’s a thought. Could I be on the set of some experimental show?
One of them hunches down in front of me and shines a light into my eyes. Again, pain blossoms into my skull, making me wince and pull back, but there’s nowhere to go. Hard metal arrests every possible movement I might make to escape this right now.
For a moment, that strange buzz erupts around me, making me feel dizzy and nauseated all at once. It soon passes, but it’s yet one more thing to puzzle over later. One of the blue fuckers leans in and speaks to me. His mouth is certainly moving, and sounds are certainly coming out.
Why can’t I understand what he’s saying? Though I can hear his speech a bit better, I still can’t place that accent. It’s odd to me that I can’t seem to even get a read on where they’re from or even where I am. Once more, I go through my limited international lexicon with no change between us.
Even if they can’t understand me, it’s like they don’t even want to try. Despite me nearly yelling at the top of my lungs, they don’t even look me in the face. Instead, they continue to look at their monitors and talk to themselves in that odd language of theirs.
“Hey,” I cry out. “Fuck face. Why don’t you tell me where I am?” With a grunt, I tug at my restraints as anger swirls in my gut. “If you’re gonna kill me, at least give me a fighting chance.”
One of the duo turns to me, and I swear he rolls his eyes. As if all of this is so ridiculous. But then, of course, it would be ridiculous to this ginormous lout. He’s not the one facing his own mortality.
With large strides that quickly eat up the distance between us, he crosses the room and brandishes what looks like a scalpel. This is it then. He’s going to cut me up and make me some decorative item.
Drawing in a deep breath, I let out a blood-curdling scream, hoping to attract some attention. All it does is bring several more of those blue fuckers into the room. I thought there were only three men in that group. Did I already die and wake up in some weird dimension where there are hundreds?
A few of them circle the bed and hold me down. Why? I have no clue. Whatever they’ve strapped me down with is doing an adequate job. As it is, their touch is superfluous. All it does is reveal something I’ve not realized until just now.
I’m naked.
Glancing down in horror, I stare at my nude body. The men seem unaffected, which is good considering the one with the scalpel looms even closer. They’re at least not going to defile me before detaching my skin from my bones.
My fingers grip into tight fists as I tug and pull, putting up at least a token bit of resistance as he brings the metal close to my face.
Other hands reach out and wrench my head to the side and pin it down, holding me still as he comes ever closer.
I can’t see him at least. That’s a small blessing.
Instead, I’m face to face with a table so shiny, it might as well be a mirror. My breath fogs the surface as I put up a token resistance. Each puff obscures my view and draws my gaze upward at an equally shiny suit. It’s a material unlike any I’ve seen before.
Clothing has always been a safe choice for me to disassociate into. There are no wrong answers there, only fashion catastrophes. Which, let’s face it, is far less dire than having my face peeled away while I can feel everything. Wincing, I bear down, waiting for the pain I know is coming.
At first, it feels like a small scratch, just a light burn on the surface, a hum beneath the skin. The sounds become louder, almost edging out the physical sensations... almost. As the tool goes deeper, the pain becomes more intense until I can’t help but thrash about.
The men surrounding me bark out sounds and utterances that still have absolutely no sense to them as they hold my head even tighter. Eventually, the pain gives way to something else. It’s an ache in my head that throbs with each bit of sound that goes into my ears.
For a moment, it’s as if I’m underwater and everything is muffled.
Try as I might, the sounds don’t make any sense.
The only thing I know is that the pain is vastly lessened.
Did he cut a nerve? Am I paralyzed? When the beefy hands free my face, I turn my neck, desperate to know just what he did to me.
But I can move. In fact, nothing feels impeded in any way. What the actual hell?
“What-”
Before I can get my sentence out, one of the goons drops his face in front of mine and shines that fucking light back into my eyes. “Can you understand me?”
“Of course I can understand you,” I growl out, irritated at the stupid question. But then it dawns on me. “Yes!” I repeat, far more enthusiastically. “I can understand you! What-”
“Good, then my services are no longer needed,” he says to the others. “I have actual cows to attend to. You figure out what to do with the male.”
“But Medical Rancher Nagán! We’ve never had a human man on board before.”
“He’s strapped down. And even if he somehow gets loose, he’s no match for us. He’s already tried once. I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine in here alone with him.”
“Hey now!” I call out, my dignity taking a slight hit. “You drugged me or something. Let me have a fair fight, and you’ll see how good you do against me. I’m not just a pretty face, you know. I’m actually a force to be reckoned with.” Even as I say this, I note just how much height they have on me.
It’s too late now. I’m fully in this. Whatever the hell it is.
Pausing, I look around the ship again and smile.
“Oh my God. Did Jeffery book this? Is this one of those immersive shoots I’ve been hearing about?
” Again, I glance down at my nude form and frown.
“We hadn’t talked about me doing fully nude shoots, and I’m not sure I’m completely comfortable with it.
At least put a blanket on me while he and I figure out the paperwork. ”
The one named Nagán slides over, his lips turning down into a fierce sneer.
“I know nothing of a Jeffery. If he’s somewhere on board, then he should have been detained by the protection officers.
As it is, I’m still not entirely sure how you’re here, but we’re puzzling that through as we speak.
As for your state of dress, you are now on an Icorian ship.
You are only granted what coverings we deem vital to your survival. Blankets are far from necessary.”
With a brisk nod at the others, he exits the door, but pauses before leaving completely.
“Oh, and human. To fight with one of us is to be sentenced to the prison planets. You’ve already struck a fellow Icorian.
I’d suggest you keep your temper in check before we send you back to Earth via garbage chute.
As it is, a Rulovian warden already awaits your arrival.
Pity, we’re nearly halfway home. We could have just put you back where we found you. ”
An odd smile crosses his lips, sending a shard of unease into my gut. “Then again, how funny would it be to put him up for auction? I’m sure some Rancher will want him.”
“But Medical Rancher,” the other hedges. “To my knowledge, you cannot milk a male.”
He looks right at me as he smirks. “Oh, there are ways. Not conventional, mind you, but there are ways. I’ll return.”
The others look at each other, uneasy expressions crossing their faces. Even though I can now understand what they’re saying, none of it makes any sense. Icorian? Rulovian? Prison planets? Milking? Man, I must be hallucinating badly. Once I’m out of this trip, I’m definitely going cold turkey.
You’ll never get clean.
A sorrow-filled roar gurgles up my throat as that damnable voice floods my brain. I can, and I will. I just need help. That’s all. Next to me, the other two blue fuckers remaining in the room look at each other and shrug. But then, how can they know what’s going on in my brain?
If only they’d let me out. If only I could walk whatever this was off. If only... “Hey, c’mon,” I eventually cry out. “Can’t a guy go pee?” It’s the only thing I know of that doesn’t sound threatening or as if I’m about to bolt.
“All fluids must be contained until we know what is to be done with you.”
Grumbling, I lie back against the metal table. “Yep. Definitely cold turkey, because fuck this. I refuse to wake up in a puddle of my own piss.”
“Cold turkey?” One of them asks the other.
“A turkey,” he responds with a voice so deadpan, so matter-of-fact, I feel that I’m watching one of those nature shows.
It would be funny if things weren’t so fucking weird already.
“As I understand it, is a bird, a large fowl at that, native to the Americas. Though why it would be cold is beyond me. Perhaps he’s speaking of consuming it later?
I know humans have primitive refrigeration devices.
..” He turns to me, his eyes a bit kinder than all the others.
“Are you hungry? Do you wish for some cold turkey? I cannot provide any meat to you, but I can give you something to take your mind off of the hunger.”
This just gets more and more bizarre. Before I can formulate a reply that isn’t absolute lunacy, the one they call Nagán comes back in with an eat-shit grin on his face. “We are to prepare him for auction.”
“Auction?” I cry out, tugging again at my restraints. Something is off about this. At first, I was fully okay believing all of this was a delusion. Now, it’s feeling all too real. “What the fuck is going on.”
Nagán leans over and brings his face close to mine. “You are to be a bull on Icora. As such, you will watch your language or we will remove your ability to speak.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl, slamming my head forward so I can hit him.
He dodges with more grace than someone of his size can possess. “Gag him. I want a urinalysis immediately. I’ll need to figure out what serum will match best with male chromosomes and physiology.”
“A bull?” the other asks, completely ignoring my sputtering. “We’ve never had one on Icora before.”
“We’ve also never had a male on our ship before, but we adapt and improvise. Once I give him the serum, he’ll be hooved, tailed, and gagged, just like any other heifer we procure.”
What. The. Actual. Fuck? Delusion or not, I need to figure out a way out of this nightmare.