Hey all, sorry to have kept you waiting so long. I hope to have chapter 11 with you in a more reasonable time-frame but I can't make any promises. Once again a big thank you to curiousvisitor for his assistance with proofreading.
Enjoy.
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Dan
Blinking against the harsh white light that assaults my vision, I come piece by piece back to reality. I have the strangest sensation of a great amount of time having passed, while simultaneously feeling like I've been sedated just moments ago. I try to rub my eyes, only to find that my wrists are cuffed together.
"Rose?" I say in a crackling voice.
There is no reply, not that I expected one. Of all the times to have a coughing fit... Well they would have found her anyway, no doubt. But at least she could have had a fighting chance, had fate been just a little less cruel. I just hope she's okay. I mean, regardless of anything else she's still valuable property, right? That should give her some level of protection, though I doubt it will grant her much kindness, especially given the treatment we have received thus far.
The ceiling slowly comes into focus. I was expecting dull concrete, perhaps even metal bars, but instead, I am greeted by a gleaming checkerboard of clean white tiles and light panels. Throwing my weight forward I manage to sit up without the use of my bound hands. Twisting myself around, I perch on the edge of the low plastic bench I had been laying on. Someone must have taken it upon him or herself to dress me in a bright orange jumpsuit which stands out in a stark contrast to my otherwise perfectly white surroundings.
Other than what seems to be a combination of toilet and sink in one corner, the room is empty.
"Hello?" I shout into the still air.
I wait in silence, my ears pricked for any kind of movement outside of the cell, but there is nothing. Sighing heavily I prepare to get up, shivering as my bare feet touch the cold floor. Great; they could have at least left me some socks.
It takes me a few attempts to propel myself onto my feet, a move I regret immediately as my legs buckle beneath me. Unable to brace myself with my hands, I crash headfirst into the wall. Groaning I rest my cheek against the cold tile, desperately trying to shake the pins and needles from my legs.
"Fuck!" I hiss between my teeth as feeling slowly returns. Where the hell is everybody? Aren't prisons supposed to be guarded? Isn't that the point?! Where are the bastards?
"Hey!" I yell, walking like a clockwork robot over to the door and slamming my fists repeatedly against the cool metal with a series of satisfyingly loud clangs from the handcuffs.
"Anyone?" I kick the bottom of the door, sending a searing pain coursing through my toe. "Argh!"
Suddenly the upper section of the door phases, turning transparent yet remaining stubbornly solid. A black armored enforcer stands directly in front of me, his or her face hidden behind a blacked out visor. Despite not being able to see their expression, I instantly picture a sneer.
"Step away from the door." Judging by the voice, the enforcer is female, not that that is much comfort.
I do as I am told, still supremely unsteady on my feet.
There is a clunk followed by a low hiss as the door gently swings open. "You know what you have on your wrists?" the woman asks, holding up a small black triangle, not too dissimilar from the key fob for Dad's car. Oh stars, what have they done with the car? I don't think my father would have too many sleepless nights knowing his only son was imprisoned, but knowing his beloved car was impounded? Perhaps I'm safer in my cell.
"Handcuffs?" I reply, trying to steady my voice.
She presses a button on the fob and pain unlike anything I have ever felt before courses through my body. The bloody cuffs must act as Tasers. I crumple to the ground in a heap, the electricity continuing to course through me for what feels like years, even though it is probably only a few seconds.
"Motherfucker," I groan, rolling onto my back as my body continues to twitch. "You could've just told me!" I yell, glaring at the women in the doorway.
"We find a practical education works best for our clientele," she says without a hint of emotion. "Now get to your feet and follow me."
"A little help?" I say, trying to roll onto my hands and knees, a task made all the more difficult by the cuffs and spasms.
In response she holds up the little black fob in a suitably threatening gesture.
"Fine, fine!" I snarl, "Just give me a second."
In possibly the most undignified manner possible I manage to get to my feet, my legs now sufficiently awake, even as my arms continue to spasm. The dispassionate woman at the door gives me a quick once over before taking a step back, waiting for me to leave the cell.
I hobble into the corridor, which, like the cell, is a tribute to all things clinically white. There are no windows, so I have no way of knowing where I am or even what time it is. I feel a sharp prod in my back and getting the hint rather quickly, I start to walk forward past cell upon identical cell.
"Where am I?" I ask, preparing myself for another jolt of electricity. Is this how Rose lives her life, with the spectre of pain always over her head, nervous about asking even the most basic of questions? Stars, no wonder making a choice is so hard for her.
"No talking," is the only answer I get from the enforcer.
Having no wish to test her patience, I continue on in silence until at last we reach an open door. She jabs me again, forcing me inside. The room could be another cell, if not for the table with two chairs facing each other. One a simple metal construction bolted to the floor, the other a plush leather affair. It doesn't take me too many guesses to work out which one I am supposed to use.
"Sit."
I do so without complaint, half expecting something to happen, though not exactly sure what.
"Hands," the enforcer says, pointing to the white table in front of me.
I slowly move my hands onto the table top, only half surprised when suddenly the handcuffs clamp onto the surface. Tentatively I try and pull away, not in an effort to get away, only to confirm what I already know. There is no escape.
"Someone will be with you shortly," the woman says with a distinct lack of anything close to tenderness before turning on her heel and leaving the room.
"Wait-," I manage to say, before the door slams behind her. I swear under my breath, the cold metal seat already causing me to fidget. I hope Rose is being treated better than I am.
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