THE GRAVITY IN YOU [P] Oct 6, 2013 22:21:09 GMT -5
Post by Caleb Ostling on Oct 6, 2013 22:21:09 GMT -5
Blue lights flashed behind thick glass, machine readouts scrolled meaningless symbols, charts, and texts. The room was warm, but the broad press of restraints was cool against his wrists. A rig of sorts, metal with some sort of dark plastic, kept his jaw firmly shut. A thin insert wire no more than the width of a pencil lead entered into his mouth from either corner, curving back in a spade over his tongue. He'd gagged on it for the first few minutes, but adjusted out of necessity; they'd shown no inclination to remove it. In fact none of the UNIT guards would come so much as in the same room as him without a taser, something they'd used on him already for absolutely no reason. Twice. Caleb had the distinct impression that they had encountered his brother, who'd clearly managed to leave something of a reputation behind. One shorter, fatter scientist in particular, one with an ice pack often pressed to his badly bruised nose, seemed to hold a vicious grudge. It was him who had ordered the muzzle (there was no other word for it) the second he'd looked at the last name on the profile.
Alone, chained to a transport, Caleb was shaken. He ran into burning buildings for a living, helped out dangerous people with often violent secrets for a past time, walked nippy shelter dogs when Katrina had to pick up her son from her ex's unexpectedly. But he had no value here beyond a number, beyond his test results. Neither had Kite. They'd taken Caleb more than two weeks ago, and the past fifteen days had been a blur of tests and needles and machines and cages. They'd make him shift and back again until he passed out from the effort, transfused his blood with someone else's, then seemed disappointed when his body had gone into shock. When he ate it was, he decided, the shapeshifter equivalent of dog food, or maybe a cross between it and soup. At least they were feeding him, the others he'd seen, though only from a distance, had often been skinny, so skinny it hurt to look. Starving. And there was screaming, from time to time, and sometimes two or three UNIT officers would hustle past, stun-guns and tranquilizers at the ready. Once he'd seen a body-bag wheeled past, occupied.
Tonight (he could see the machine's clock, it was six-twenty) he was in a new room. The test name glowed blithely in front of him in long, meaningless letters. He knew a little Latin, but nothing that was even close to being useful here. There were two IV's in his right arm that were slowly going from painfully cold feeling to sickeningly numb, and he couldn't stop himself from glancing at them all the time. He really, really was afraid of needles, and if he hadn't been before he certainly was now. Were they talking about sharks now? He was pretty sure he caught something about sharks. He was a shark. But they weren't speaking English, both were French or something, they rolled their R's a lot.
And then he himself was rolled aside as someone else was marched into the room. In a matter of seconds the man was scanned with a blink of a green laser grid, uncuffed, and shoved into the glass cagebox along the far wall. And then eyes fell expectantly to him, and his stomach flipped; he was next. He wasn't sure what for, the second empty cage suddenly seemed much more terrifying than the needles in his arm, to the point that he didn't even feel the scientist take them out until it was already done. He definitely did feel the sudden bite of an injection into the side of his neck, however, and the scream of surprise and pain was choked into silence by the gag. And then it was ripped out of his mouth, banging his teeth as he was dragged up at the same time. The room spun oddly, his head throbbed(what the heck had they shot him full of anyways!?), and he bounced stupidly off the door of the nearest machine as they clicked his restraints off and more or less tossed him into it.
What he did not expect was to be hucked into the already occupied machine. It was a graceless encounter, hard and all elbows to stomachs as he fell down onto his butt with a strangled attempt at a holler of surprise; his tongue was still numb from the pressure of the gag. Caleb barely had a chance to lean back and gawk upward at the swimming double-image of what could only be another shapeshifter standing above him when there was a loud, mechanical hiss, and water poured down over both of them from above.