Forty-One
Subject 763
“You upped the dosage?”
“Fifty milliliters, like you asked,” the voice replies.
The silence stretches out for a beat. “Fantastic.” The metal table under me cools my burning temperature. My eyes feel so heavy, like they’re lifting hundred-pound weights.
When they finally open, my vision is hazy. The light above is blinding, but everything around me comes out as blobs of color.
Turning my head to the side, I wince at the pain in my neck. What the fuck happened? Hushed voices sound around me, but I don’t have the energy to search for them.
“Subject 763 is awake,” one of them says. Their footsteps sound like bombs going off as they get closer. I want to sit up, to move, but my body betrays me and stays still. It isn’t until I’m ordered to sit up that my body obeys.
What the fuck?
“Please state your name.” Gods, that annoying voice. I want to wrap my hand around his neck, snuff out the agonizing squeak until he’s silenced forever. But I don’t.
“Subject 763,” leaves my mouth. The faces in front of me slightly begin to focus, but I can’t place them.
“And what is it you do?” another asks.
Without thinking, my mouth opens, “I serve you, commander.” A flash of a smile appears on his face, followed by a nod.
Yelling, I ask who they are, what they want, but my words don’t sound. Frantically, I try to search for a way out, but my head doesn’t turn. Instead, I stay facing the backs of the two people I can’t place.
“Do you think it’s ready?” one asks hopefully.
“Up the dosage another fifteen milliliters, just to be safe. I don’t want to take any chances,” the other orders. The first one nods in agreement, and they disappear from my view, each going in opposite directions.
Thankfully, my eyes close, giving a little reprieve from the lights. I feel a pinch on my arm, and instinctively, I lash out my hand to reprimand the person responsible.
Or I try to.
My eyes feel heavy once again, fighting to stay open. All my instincts scream at me to get up, to fight, to do anything that gets me back. But my head hangs low between my shoulders, unable to keep upright.
I feel a nudge on my upper arm, and I’m falling, hitting the metal table and falling captive to the inky blackness behind my eyes.
My eyes pop open, blinking in a perfect relaxed tandem with my heartbeat. An order to sit up registers, and I do without question.
“State your name.”
“Subject 763.”
“And what is it you do?”
“I serve you, commander.” My voice stays level and monotone. I stare past the men, sitting in wait for further instructions.
He tells me to stand, and I do. I follow each order until a woman is presented to me, strapped to an identical table as the one I was lying on. Her mouth moves, but the words don’t reach my ears.
Her tear-streaked cheeks glisten under the light, and I have a slight urge to wipe them away, but a mental shake brings me back to the present.
I listen to my commander as he instructs me on what to do next. When he’s finished, I don’t hesitate. Shoving the bite block into her mouth, the wails she releases are music to my ears. Saliva rolls down the corners of her lips, and I hold my hand out expectantly, never tearing my eyes from her.
“Shhh. There’s no need to be afraid.” I feel the sinful smile pull at my lips as I grip the instrument’s handle. She screams gloriously, and her eyes bug out of her head as she watches my hand slowly come closer.
When the pliers grip around her molar, her eyes pinch together, and her breathing stops. I pause for a second, then another, waiting until one of her eyes opens, and my grip tightens before ripping out the tooth.
Blood pours from her mouth, mixing with her saliva. The table is bathed in crimson, tooth after tooth being pulled until the finale.
I’m shocked she hasn’t passed out from the pain. She’s a fighter, I’ll give her that.
Exchanging the pliers for a scalpel, I also grab the forceps, clamping it on the tip of her tongue before severing it in one slice.
Dropping the instruments on the table, I take a step back and admire my work. The gentlemen on either side of me assesses the damage before turning to face each other.
“I think this was a success,” the one on my left says, his face looking a little green.
The other doesn’t say anything for a while, long enough for the other one to excuse himself, probably to throw up. Pussy.
When the man finally looks at me, I meet his stare head on as he searches my eyes.
“Extraordinary. Now, do exactly as I say.”