Chapter 22

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                It was with a heavy heart that I made my way towards Banks’s office. I’d excused myself from the group with the pretext that I was tired and wanted to go to sleep earlier. It wasn’t a lie, I really was exhausted, and it appeared that everyone seemed to believe me. That is, everyone except Dan.

                “Why don’t I go with you,” he’d said, handing his pool stick to Marko as he prepared to join me.

                “No, it’s okay. Seriously Dan, I’m sober, I won’t be napping in the hallways like before,” I’d said, giving him a serious look that I hoped conveyed; you can’t come, this is dangerous.

                He’d stared at me with hard eyes, trying to read my expression to find the truth. He was troubled. Without the others seeing, I’d given him the subtlest of nods; a sign that I’d tell him what was happening later. In the end he must’ve seen my resolve, or at least understood that there wasn’t really anything he could do, because he’d sighed and shaken his head in quiet defeat.

                “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he’d said, and I knew what he really meant was; you’re not getting out of this one. You are telling me everything whether you like it or not.

                I’d nodded and then left without further explanations. Now, as I stood before the familiar door to Banks’s lab, I felt my previous anger return. Sadistic, that’s what Banks was. Even though the initiate’s stories had been told second-hand by Marko, they were still so incredibly horrific that they had me shuddering at their memory.

                Sucking in a breath, I raised my hand and knocked on the door.

                “It’s open,” I heard Banks say from inside the room.

                Pushing past the door, and then closing it behind me, I made my way over to the familiar chair. What would the experiment be today? Was it possible that he’d fixed the glitch in his previous serum? Would he again try to take control of my body? Even the thought of that was repugnant; to be played like a puppet, moved with invisible strings, it would be insufferable.

               Never; I mentally snarled. I wouldn’t let him; it didn’t matter how much he tried, I’d always fight his control.

               “You’re awfully quiet today,” Banks noted as he began to prepare his supplies. “No sarcastic comments? No questions or concerns about the procedure?”

               “I don’t care. I’m tired,” I said, letting out a half-hearted yawn to prove my point. “Let’s just get it over with.” I began to shove the sleeve of my shirt up when suddenly Banks interrupted me.

               “No, that won’t be necessary. I have something different planned for today.”

               “No serum?” I asked. Quite frankly, I was surprised. We’d never done anything that didn’t involve drugs or some other liquid being injected into my body.

               “No, just stay put while I prepare the equipment,” he said as he continued to fiddle with his tools.

               “Okay,” I said warily, and as he worked I made sure to keep a hawk-like eye on his every movement.

               I watched as he grabbed something that resembled a gun, and then loaded it with a small metallic dart. No, not a dart, I suppose that would be too big to describe the object. It was almost more of a pin, like the kind you used to sew things or hold fabric together; one end was shaped like a tiny bead, and the other tapered into a very thin needle. It was so thin in fact, that from far away it almost looked like a delicate piece of string.

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