7. Thea
Chapter 7
Thea
M y head throbs. Moving my hand to my temple causes my stomach to heave, as a sudden case of vertigo slams through me. I reach for a stable surface. The scratchy cement from my cell feels cool against my palm.
A voice bellows my name, the sound echoing through the hallway. I force my eyes open, taking in my surroundings. I’m leaning against the wall in my cell, but the door is wide open. My left hand feels wet and sticky. Lifting it, I notice the dark red streaks along my palm. Blood? I touch my right hand to the back of my head. Is that why I’m dizzy? Do I have a head injury? The back of my head is dry, and I can’t feel any additional injuries which would explain the blood. I twist my legs, putting my knees on the floor, and use the wall to support my weight as I climb to my feet.
When I turn back around, that’s when I see the nurse on the floor of my cell, eyes closed, with a syringe sticking out of his ear. Leaning against the wall, I make my way towards the door. It feels like it takes forever for me to reach the hall. The voice calling my name grows louder. I’m by the nurse’s desk when the door to the stairwell on my right slams open and a figure rushes onto the floor. My knees buckle as the man comes towards me. He crouches down, brushing a hand over my hair. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.”
“Wolfe?” I grab at his shirt, holding on for dear life. He scoops me up, pressing my head against his chest. I inhale, seeking his comforting leather and gym scent, but all I smell is blood mixed with stale mop water. A part of me registers that this is Dr. Quack, still messing with my head. It’s just another hallucination. A forced manifestation of hope. Soon, I’ll be back to the reality of being strapped in his chair, but for now, I embrace the delusion. I need this delusion. I miss Wolfe so much.
I press my palm against his cleanly shaven face. “I know you’re not real, but I don’t care. Right now, I don’t care that I’m losing my mind.”
Of all the things I’ve imagined. All the forced imagery. I never let my mind wander here. To him. My Big Bad Wolfe. Because he’s one of the only people that could ever give me hope. This just goes to show I’m done fighting. I’m tired of resisting. I stop being strong, and let my mind fracture as I smother him with kisses. The figment of my imagination tucks my head against the crook of his neck and rubs circles on my back.
“Shhh. I’m here, Sweetness. This is real, and I’ve got you.”
That’s such a Wolfe thing to say. A throat clears behind me, and the imagery splinters. I cling to the apparition, not caring that there are people standing around who paid to watch me break. If I’m never going to be sane again, then Wolfe is the crazy I want to always keep.
I lean back to look at him. God, I miss the golden flecks of his eyes. He’s taking in my bruises. I know I look hideous. Wolfe is always finding me after I’ve been through hell, but I don’t hide from him. I never have to. Not in reality and not in this hallucination.
His brows furrow as his eyes flick over to something behind my shoulder. “I hope you gave them hell.”
I shake my head. “I don’t want to think about fighting. I just want to be happy in this dream with you for a little while longer.”
“This isn’t a dream. I’m here.”
The small bubble of hope is fading fast. This is how it always happens. The hallucinations insist they’re real. The harder they try to convince me, the more my brain fights. I give him a watery smile. “It’s a dream. I know you’re not real, and it’s okay. I had you for a little while, but it’s time for me to wake up now.”
With one last kiss to his full lips, I force my mind back into my body. The harder I fight the suggestion, the more I feel the pain from the electrical current running through my body. The repeated shocks from the electro pad have already worn down the flesh on my skin, searing through the epidermis. As it heals, it’ll leave more blisters on my body.
“Back so soon?” Dr. Quack, clucks. “You know what that means.” He mutters to himself and pulls out his notebook. “Gotta increase the dosage.” He closes his book, then walks over to me. “In the meantime, let’s play a different game, shall we?”
I bite down on my tongue to stem my screams as the wattage on the electrodes increases.
“I admire how much you fight this, but we both know it’s only a matter of time before you give them what they want.”
He’s right, but I fight against the pain for as long as I can. What happens next is being dragged down to the basement of this building and being forced to fight, or stripped and hosed, or whatever other shit they come up with to amuse themselves. Some days, it’s a toss up on whether I prefer Malcolm drugging me with plans to impregnate me against my will, or this.