Dr. Watson
DR IESHA WATSON - EXPERIMENT #246-- the computerized voice intoned, stirring the butterflies gathered in her stomach. DR IESHA WATSON - EXPERIMENT #666
246--666--she closed her eyes, the muscles in her jaw twitching as she ground her teeth. Despite the ibuprofen, her migraine had yet to abate and had taken the edge off their small, glorious victory. It still didn't deter the sharp grin that flashed across her face now. 246. 666. At long last, they would taste the fruits of their labors. She expected them to be sweet indeed.
Hurrying through decontamination as much as she dared--which, given the gravity of the circumstances, wasn't much--she fumbled with her hazmat suit, then slowed. Though she remembered every detail of the reports, it never hurt to be too careful. Protocol existed for a reason. Mainly liability reasons. Bones aching, she stretched her jaw. She really needed to stop grinding her teeth.
Double checking every zipper, flap and errant tab, Iesha picked up her clipboard. With its sharp edges digging into her breast, her overtaxed muscles loosened slightly. Better. #246 first, then 666. As she strode the length of the hallway to the ward, she ran through what she knew of the subject and decided it wasn't enough. Testing had proven inconclusive, further research required. An unknown quantity. Iesha despised unknown quantities. The very thought brought a toothy smile to her lips. The kind of smile sharks envy.
"Ready, Dr. De Note?" she asked, pausing a step behind her coworker and favoring him with a scrutinizing squint. "Everything in order?"
Tam
Pain shuddered though their eyes, penetrating deep into their cranium before they slammed them shut and smashed their fists over the sockets. Distantly, they could hear their scream dissipate into the blinding light and it took several shivery breaths to refill their lungs enough for a long string of cusses, syllables malformed by a tongue that seemed too thick for their mouth. After a moment, Tam withdrew their hands from their face, finger by finger. Light seeped through, so strong as to be unbearable. Tam bore it. Opening one eye, they blinked at the blurred world. Bright and white. Carefully opening the second eye, Tam squinted at nothing. Beds, they realized, people, IV drips, walls, people, machines, machines, machines, concrete, steel, earth, people--
They groaned, a quiet sound that forced itself from Tam's lungs as they fell back into the dark. Nothing.
A second attempt. Had there been a first? Wakefulness broke over Tam in pieces. First the ears: breathing, their own, mostly, but they knew of others. How? For a brief, precarious moment they balanced on the verge of knowing--they opened their eyes and let the pain of the light force all thought from their mind. No screaming this time. They bit their lip. Concentrating, Tam saw a camera. It was if 90% of their vision had retreated into their periphery. A camera. They stared at it, practicing their new, limited form of sight. They realized, slowly, that they should be upset about the camera. They should be upset about a number of things, actually, and they were upset just--differently. Slowly, Tam sat up, felt the gentle tug of the IV drip.
Don't pull it out, they told themself. It hurts. I used to do it a lot before. That was dumb. Why would I do that? Because I was afraid. Of what?
Their thoughts felt slow and the world seemed farther away than usual: muffled and blurred.
Two people were moving nearby, though, they knew that much. How?
"Excuse me?"
Tam cleared their throat in a very reasonable way.
"Excuse me, where am I?"
But, as it turned out, Tam already knew the answer to that question.