Chapter Text
Part 1. The Stone Room
Preface
She had tried to keep track of time in her head.
Time is a tricky thing, she thought. A human concept given to the constant ebb and flow of an inhuman universe. It didn’t need a clock; it wasn’t tethered to manmade objects. She realized that as the supposed days passed. She didn’t know the time, but it still slipped past her fingers regardless.
She didn’t know how long she had been in this room, but it had been a long time. They used to bring her out of the room for her special sessions, but that had ended in what she could only say was “a while” ago. Poor measurement. She used to like being as precise as possible with certain things, time being one of them. She remembered having a meltdown in the grocery store when she was five because her mother had told her that it would take 20 minutes and in reality, it had taken 22.
Her mother’s face was blurry in her mind. So was her own, she realized. It had been “a while” since she had seen herself in the mirror. She supposed that was for the better. Her tongue prodded at the healing split on the left side of her mouth. Her right eye and temple throbbed with the beat of her heart and her eyelid was unwillingly half shut, like she got caught halfway through a wink.
The chains on her ankles rattled as she shifted. Her body hurt against the stone floor, but it felt nice against her hot skin. It was always so cold in the room, but her body was always hot from the drugs pumped into her neck on what she guessed was a daily basis.
They were different colors. Some green. Some blue. Orange that one time. All made her feel fuzzy, sick, pained. The blue one had made her double over the first time they forced it on her. It had only lasted a few minutes though and then she was floaty. They liked her when she was floaty. She didn’t mind it until they put their hands on her. Whenever they walked in with the blue goo in their metal syringe, she knew what to expect.
That had been the most recent injection. Dried blood had started to flake from the inside of her thighs shortly after the last one zipped up his pants and closed the door behind him. She didn’t cry when the blue syringe came out anymore. She actually preferred it because it lessened the feeling of them on top of her, in her. It didn’t make the pain go away once it wore off though. She could feel the ache between her legs and the emotional layer of disgust on her skin. They would give her a bucket and cloth to clean herself with eventually.
The figure in the corner of the room tried to melt into the wall when the door rattled. Three figures were lit up from the light in the hallway. She had never seen what was beyond that door. Or maybe she had and just couldn’t remember. She supposed that was it. Her brain was always fuzzy now.
The middle one was in a white coat. There was no name embroidered on it. None of the soldiers or doctors ever had a piece of identification on their body. She felt slightly happy at that realization, because they must still think that she was capable of more than she knew she was.
It was a green one today. Her tongue twitched, but her mind sharpened. She locked her secrets in the most guarded section of her brain, the part that this truth serum wouldn’t be able to get to. It wasn’t as strong as the first time she had felt its effects when her and -
What was his name again?
- Steve got kidnapped together.
That sent a pang of sadness through her chest. It was just her now. She wondered what Steve was doing. She wished she could see him again. She had forgotten what he looked like.
The needle went into the side of her neck with ease. It always went in at the same place. A small bump had started to form at the injection site maybe 15 injections ago. No matter how much she rubbed it, it would not go away.
The effects were almost instantaneous. Her tongue tingled and giddiness bubbled into her mouth. The air tasted sweet and she laughed. The doctor slapped her hard, but she just laughed harder. Tears fell down her face. It was a strange mixture of euphoria and melancholy.
“Where are they?” The accent was thick.
“Who are they?” Another slap. More laughter.
“The group from the mall?”
“What’s a mall?”
A groan of frustration, another slap, and a sharp turn on the heel. The doctor muttered something that the figure in the corner couldn’t pick out. Maybe because it wasn’t English. Maybe because of the drugs. Probably both. The three figures left shortly after.
The high was short - much shorter than it had been in the mall. She remembered what a mall was now, thankfully after the group had left the room. The green stuff always messed with her memory. It was a blessing in disguise because their botched chemistry had been keeping her friends safe this entire time. She hoped it would continue.
The inhuman version of time trickled on. Her eyes were growing tired - another side effect. Her brain hummed like a car engine in need of a tune-up. Fuzz started to coat her brain like mold on a slice of bread. She always hated the feeling.
She started to trace her fingertip along the stone ground. Dirt and dried blood seemed permanently caked underneath her nails. She still bit them, so they were sharp in some places and uneven. They had left a scratch on one of the soldier’s faces before, which had earned her her first black eye. She had so much fight in her back then.
Her fingers continued their dance. She did this whenever the fuzz growing on her brain felt too heavy. Her brain twitched with effort. If she couldn’t do anything but sit here, she could at least remember her name. Her finger traced invisible letters on the stone besides her.
Robin Buckley.