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MillionNovel > Blood and Oaths: A Predator Fanfiction > S1: Chapter 3: No Rest For The Wicked

S1: Chapter 3: No Rest For The Wicked

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    Teresa turns over on the bed as the lock on her cell disengages noisily. Two orderlies enter the cell, a man and a woman. The female orderly carries a small bundle of clothes and other toiletries. She addresses Dr. Boyd in a disinterested tone of voice.


    “Time for housekeeping services, Teresa,” the woman says coldly. “You will be led to the showers while we make up your room. Please follow Mr. Stevens, here. A change of clothes will be awaiting you once you return.”


    Teresa’s brow furrows as she tries to process what she has just heard.


    “Wait. Huh? A change of clothes for when I return?” Teresa exclaims. “What do I wear in the meantime?”


    The female orderly grins wryly.


    “Dr. Wessinger says you are not to be given a change of clothes until your return to the cell,” the woman says. “You’ll have to ask her why. Perhaps, so you do not hang yourself in the shower room. Now, if you please…Follow Mr. Stevens to the designated area.”


    Teresa slowly rises from the bed. She glances at the large man named Stevens warily. In a strange way, the male orderly reminds her of N-Vorl—the day they first met. Angry, and seemingly out of place. Teresa stands as straight as possible and strolls to where the orderlies block most of the doorway. She locks eyes with the orderly named Stevens and he silently nods. Without a word, Stevens turns and exits the room. Teresa follows him warily down the hall.


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    “Don’t worry,” Stevens says as he leads Dr. Boyd to the shower room. “There are only patients on this floor. Three to be exact. No offices. No meeting rooms. Only other things on this floor…Besides you head cases…Are an observation cubicle, a supply closet, and the washrooms. Once you are finished showering…We will head back to your room.”


    Teresa walks even faster, trying to see orderly Stevens’ face. She is hoping to somehow reason with him.


    “I don’t understand, Mr. Stevens,” Teresa says, “Why can’t I at least have a towel?”


    “Because Dr. Wessinger does not wish it…And I do what I’m told,” Stevens barks back.


    “But why?” Teresa insists. “Why go along with the doctor’s madness? You do realize that this is madness? To torture another human being? Do the people at Weyland Industries know what—”


    “All I know,” Stevens interrupts. “Is that I have a kid sister. I’ve cared for her since she was nine. And now, she’s got the cancer. Like I said…I do what I’m told.”


    Stevens points toward a small room with a solitary finger.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    “Now. After you, Dr. Boyd,” Stevens bellows. “The showers are in there. Take your clothes off and toss them outside the door one article at a time. Dr. Wessinger says to make sure all items are accounted for. Including your underwear.”


    Teresa sighs heavily and steps into the doorway of the shower room. She glances around at the eerily unwelcoming accommodations.


    “Right there! Take your clothes off right there!” Stevens demands in a chilling voice.


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    “Right here,” Teresa exclaims. “Why right here? You said…Toss them out the door one at a time. At least let me step out of the doorway.”


    “Nope,” Stevens says coldly. “Dr. Wessinger’s orders were to not take my eyes off of you until you do. Go ahead.”


    “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Teresa yells.


    Anger causes Dr. Boyd’s stomach to lurch and she grapples with a deep sense of déjà vu. There was once another time when everywhere she went—she carried with her an extra shadow. As well as an extra pair of eyes. Shaking off the negative energy coursing through her mind and body, Teresa begins to undress.


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    Teresa returns to her cell humiliated and nearly in tears. She waits for the locking mechanism to engage before crossing to the bed. Removing the pile of clothes, she searches in vain for undergarments. She considers hollering for one of the nurses, but knows her request will fall on deaf ears. The omission was intentional. Teresa puts on her new gown and sits on the edge of the bed. She stares silently at the double-sided mirror. Is Dr. Wessinger on the other side of that mirror?


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    Three days later


    “I need water!” Teresa screams.


    The former scientist leans against the door to her cell, speaking through the two inches of carbonized steel.


    “Please,” Teresa begs. “Just give me some water! I won’t be able to breastfeed if you don’t give me some water. My son will die. You don’t know what he needs. None of us do. Please. Dr. Wessinger? Somebody? Anybody? Just listen to me. Please.”


    An electric shock courses through both the door and the floor. Teresa is jolted first one direction and then another. As the current is turned off, she falls heavily to the floor. Her head strikes the doorframe and she is knocked unconscious.


    The two orderlies from before, Stevens and Meyer, gaze through the small window at the top of the door. Meyers is the first person in the room when the mechanism unlocks and the door opens. Once the two orderlies enter the cell, they carry Dr. Boyd to her bed and dump her unceremoniously on top of it. The man and woman exit the cell just as silently—and as quickly- as they entered.


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    Teresa sits quietly on the bed. Her legs are bent at the knee and she uses both arms to hold her gown in place, in order to not expose her intimate parts. However, the position is soothing. It allows her to rock back and forth. She imagines it is the same motion she might use to rock Vor’taalnis to sleep.


    The door unlocks for the third time that day and Brian Bashir peeks around the door frame. This is the first time in almost a week that Brian has made an appearance. His thin face seems gaunter than before, and there is a haunted look to his eyes. Teresa smiles wistfully. It can’t be a coincidence that Harold’s kid brother has been stationed at the same facility where she is being held. This is likely another part of Dr. Wessinger’s elaborate torture scheme. Teresa had recognized the young man almost immediately—from the photo Harold always carried in his credit wallet.


    “Hi, Dr. Boyd,” Brian says.


    He steps into the cell with Teresa’s lunch tray in two trembling hands. Teresa offers him a friendly smile and carefully drops her legs down.


    “Hello, Brian,” Teresa says.
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