As Ian's head began to clear, he noticed the doctor opening the chamber door, and the machine returned to its upright position. He sighed with relief. Is it done already? With a lingering haze still clouding his thoughts, Ian watched as the doctor removed the mask from his face. He blinked a few times, trying to focus his gaze on the doctor's face and make sense of the situation.
The doctor proceeded to remove the electrodes attached to Ian's body and began undoing the straps that had kept him confined. With each strap released, Ian felt a surge of relief and regained his freedom of movement. Once the doctor finished removing everything, he stepped out of the chamber, walking over to the nearby counter to retrieve something.
Ian took a deep breath. Finally. He flexed his limbs, grateful to be free from the confinements of the machine. As he stepped out of the machine, a sudden wave of intense dizziness washed over him, accompanied by a nauseating sensation that twisted his stomach. Desperately seeking support, Ian instinctively reached for the machine's door, clutching it tightly as the whole room spun around him like a vortex. The sensation of his insides churning intensified, and he clutched his stomach, feeling as if his very core was being violently twisted.
"I don't feel well," Ian managed to utter, his voice strained and weak. The doctor, who had anticipated this reaction, appeared before him, holding a plastic emesis basin in front of Ian’s face as if he had foreseen this. With a sudden surge of intense nausea, Ian tightly gripped on the basin his body convulsed, forcing him to drop to his knees on the floor. The contents of his stomach surged upward, his throat burning as he retched forcefully, expelling everything he had consumed. He felt as if his guts were being wrenched out in agonizing spasms. His eyes welled up with tears, a combination of physical strain and emotional overwhelm.
I’m tired, I can’t throw up anymore, I feel like dying. Breathing heavily, Ian’s chest rose and fell with each labored breath and weakness washed over him, leaving him trembling and disoriented. The experience left him in a state of shock, his senses overwhelmed and his mind struggling to comprehend what had just transpired.
Through the haze of his suffering, Ian became aware of the doctor's presence, leaning over him with an outstretched hand. At first, the touch seemed innocent, a gentle pat on the head, but then it ventured further, trailing down his back until it reached his rear. Ian's weariness didn't fully allow him to comprehend the doctor's actions until he caught a glimpse of the sadistic smile etched on his face sending an unsettling shiver down Ian’s spine.
Stop touching me! A surge of revulsion coursed through Ian, his weakened body trembling with a mixture of frustration and disgust. Though he desperately wanted to move away from the doctor's presence, his trembling limbs rendered him powerless, trapped in a vulnerable state.
The doctor's hand lingered on Ian's rear, the touches becoming increasingly unsettling with each rub on his back. As if driven by an insidious desire, leaning in closer, his lips almost grazing Ian's ear, the doctor whispered, "You youngsters do have remarkably smooth skin," he breathed, his tone filled with unsavory intent.
Ian's eyes widened in shock, his body freezing momentarily as the doctor's words registered. Summoning the last reserves of his strength, Ian mustered the courage to push himself back into a sitting position, distancing himself as far as possible from the doctor's intrusive presence. His heart raced with a mixture of fear, anger, and disgust, as he tried to regain a sense of control over the situation.
The doctor's lips curled into a sinister grin, an unsettling display of amusement at Ian's discomfort. With a muffled snicker, he walked away, returning to his desk.
Meanwhile, Ian's frown deepened, a ting of anger showing on his face as he scanned the room for his gown, Fucking pervert! Where the hell is my gown? His gaze eventually settled on the sight of his clothing, carelessly draped over one of the chairs near the doctor's desk. The vulnerability of his nakedness heightened his sense of unease.
Seated at his desk, the doctor pressed a communication device, his tone nonchalant as he spoke, treating Ian's examination as just another routine case. "Examination room 6, Amber is done. Proceed with the next case," he instructed, his voice devoid of empathy or concern.
A voice responded through the device, “A security agent will be arriving soon,” before abruptly disconnecting.
Ignoring Ian, who still sat on the floor, the doctor resumed his focus on the computer screen, typing away as if the young boy's presence held no significance.
Meanwhile, Ian gathered what little strength he had regained and pushed himself up. I need to dress before the guard arrives. A grunt escaped his lips, “Ugh…” My body still feels weak. Slowly, he walked towards the chair where his gown awaited. With deliberate movements, he dressed himself, the fabric providing a small measure of comfort and security.
He took a seat, his weary body sinking into the chair. His mind, however, remained in a state of disarray, desperately trying to piece together the fragments of his recent experience. As his eyes wandered around the room, they landed on the clock mounted atop the medical cabinet. The time displayed—1 pm—jolted him with disbelief. It’s afternoon already?! I’m sure It was 9 am just a moment ago! Was I unconscious? I don’t remember anything! The gaps in his memory filled him with unease and trepidation.
A frown etched across Ian's face, his brow furrowed with a mix of confusion and fear. He mustered the courage to glance in the direction of the doctor, a burning desire to seek answers. However, the intimidating presence of the man, coupled with the disturbing actions he had attempted, made Ian hesitate. The lingering sense of vulnerability stifled his voice, leaving him silent.
Ian's mind raced, desperately grasping at fragments of memory that seemed just out of reach. A disconcerting haze enveloped his memories, leaving him with fragmented glimpses that held no concrete meaning. There was something discomforting, something that unsettled him deeply, but the specifics remained elusive.
Before he could delve further into his thoughts, the abrupt swing of the door startled him back to the present. Ian's gaze shifted towards the figure that entered—a guard, different from the previous one, with a softer expression etched upon his face. The insignia on his uniform suggested a lower rank.
"I'm here for Amber," the guard announced, his voice carrying a sense of duty. "The next case is arriving soon." His words cut through the room, underscoring the routine nature of the proceedings.
Ian's gaze shifted between the guard and the doctor. Finally, I can leave. The doctor's dismissive wave signaled to the guard his release. With a sense of cautious optimism, Ian turned his attention to the guard who stood before him.
"Follow me," the guard instructed, his tone surprisingly polite given the circumstances.
Ian pushed himself up from the chair, his body still weighed down by fatigue, yet gradually regaining some of its energy.
As Ian followed the guard, they exited the examination room and made their way through the corridors. While walking, Ian's attention was caught by a sign indicating the location of the restroom. An urgent need arose within him, prompting him to stop. I want to use the bathroom.
Noticing Ian's sudden halt, the guard turned around, with a hint of confusion on his face. His eyes followed Ian's gaze, landing on the restroom sign. Understanding dawned upon him, and his tone softened as he addressed Ian. "Do you want to use the restroom?" the guard asked, his voice carrying a gentle and understanding undertone.
The guard's empathetic response momentarily put Ian at ease, and he nodded in response, silently confirming his need.
With a small jerk of his head, the guard gestured towards the restroom. "Then go ahead. I'll be waiting here outside for you," he said, providing a sense of reassurance.
Ian's face brightened with a glimmer of surprise and gratitude. He hadn't anticipated such considerate treatment, especially from a guard. Without hesitation, he quickly made his way towards the bathroom. As he entered the bathroom, the sight of multiple toilet stalls, sinks, and urinals greeted him. It was a standard public restroom, designed to accommodate both genders.
Ian approached the sink, his gaze meeting his pale reflection in the mirror. Fatigue and exhaustion were etched on his face, with reddened eyes betraying the emotional and physical strain he had endured. Wow, I look so tired.
Without hesitation, he turned on the faucet, splashing cool water onto his face repeatedly, attempting to refresh himself and wash away the lingering taste of vomit. He swished water around in his mouth, spitting it out in an effort to rid himself of the unpleasant residue.
Feeling slightly rejuvenated, Ian made his way to one of the empty stalls. As he stood there, relieving himself, a sense of peace enveloped him within the confines of the stall's walls. No one was there to invade his privacy or subject him to further discomfort. It was a fleeting moment of solace, providing him a brief escape from everything. Ian released a deep sigh. I don’t want to go back out.
As Ian finished relieving himself, he flushed and then lowered the seat cover and took a seat, seeking a brief moment of solitude and respite. However, his tranquility was abruptly shattered as the restroom door swung open, revealing the entrance of two individuals. Startled, Ian's heart raced, and a surge of panic washed over him. In a reflexive response, he lifted his feet off the ground, instinctively pulling himself into a protective position, hugging his knees tightly to his chest.
As they made their way to the urinals, their voices echoing through the tiled space, engrossed in conversation. One of them spoke with an air of confidence, his words dripping with weariness. "This is truly exhausting. We were already short-staffed, and now Dr. Cain had to remove another doctor just because she dared to raise her hand against one of his favorite boys." He let out an exaggerated sigh, frustration evident in his tone.
The other individual, possessing a deeper voice with a subtle hint of an accent, responded, his tone reflecting a mixture of observation and curiosity. "Unlike the other directors responsible for the rest of the children, Dr. Cain seems to hold a particular care to his boys," he remarked.
Ian strained to listen, he tried his best to remain motionless, his grip on his knees tightening. Please, hurry up and leave.
Suddenly, a burst of laughter erupted from the confident speaker, echoing through the restroom.
Ian's heart skipped a beat, his anxiety escalating at the unexpected sound. He held his breath, desperate to avoid drawing any attention to himself.
The other man's voice, tinged with confusion, broke the momentary silence. "What's so funny?" he asked.
The confident individual let out a dry chuckle, the sound filled with a hint of bitterness. "I've been here since this place was established," he began, his voice tinged with a weary tone. "Dr. Cain cares only about his work. That man is a beast, and you don't want to find yourself on his bad side or become an obstacle to his work. But I can't wrap my head around why he doesn't simply resort to opening them up to extract the answers he needs"
Ian's blood ran cold as he listened to their conversation, his heart pounding in his chest. What does he mean by opening them? He instinctively covered his mouth with his hand, trying to stifle any sound that might give away his presence.
The confident man let out another exaggerated sigh before continuing. "At least I wasn't there during that last awakening," he muttered. "Watching the video of that incident was horrifying."
The man with the accent, clearly puzzled, asked, “Last awakening?”
Realizing the new recruit's lack of knowledge, the confident man explained. "Oh, you're new here. Because of that last awakening, we lost more than a dozen of our staff members. You're one of the new recruits brought in to fill the gaps after that incident."
Last awakening? Are they talking about me? Before Ian could fully process the conversation he overheard, the restroom door swung open with a force that made him jump in surprise. The guard who had been waiting outside, his voice filled with authority, immediately addressed the two individuals. "You two, stay where you are!" His stern command echoed through the restroom, causing an air of tension to settle in. The guard then appeared to be speaking to someone else, his tone respectful and obedient. "Yes, sir!" he responded.
Suddenly, the guard's attention shifted towards the stall Ian was hiding in. He banged forcefully on the door, the sound reverberating through the confined space.
Ian's heart raced, his senses heightened by the unexpected confrontation.
"Kid, come out now!" The guard's voice carried a mixture of anger and impatience, leaving no room for hesitation.
Ian's trembling hand reached for the stall door handle, his fear etched across his face as he slowly stepped out, exposing himself to the two doctors by the urinal.
The guard seized Ian's arm tightly, his grip firm and unyielding, as he forcefully led him towards the exit. Just before they left, the guard turned back to address the two doctors, his tone filled with authority. "Do not leave the restroom. Orders from the boss," he stated firmly, leaving no room for disobedience.
Comments (0)
See all