69 CHAPTER 68-DARKNESS
Water. Ema's throat cried as she studied the darkness that enveloped her. How long has it been? She tried to recall, but her mind would not think up a thing. It was hard to keep track of time, especially since her cell seems to be in isolation from the others. All she needed at the moment was water, no matter the quantity.
A loud noise echoed on the door as the lock bolt left its place. Some voices followed too, but Ema shields her eyes when the white light came pouring into the darkroom, drawing tears from the pool of her lacrimal gland. The vague features of the people who stood at the door rupture into multiple images, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next.
"You messed up. You messed with the wrong woman, Sparkle"
Ema blinked as the voice resonated in her eardrum. The grallian accent of the woman was as bad as her vision. But despite the revabration, she was able to place a face on the voice even without looking. Yes, the cat-cry of a voice belongs to Trisha; the goat face woman that parades herself as her manager.
Ema tried to stand, but that only sent a wave of pain through her body. The lump on the back of her head was beginning to throb, making her crank like a steam engine. She couldn't even lick her lower lips without flinching. Every attempt to breathe was an agony of hell. She must have fractured a rib or two. It was hard to tell. If only she could have a taste of water, maybe she could bring her mind to think better.
"You say something sparkle?" Trisha asked, but Ema remained quiet. Her throat was burning with thirst and she was not ready to argue with the foolish goat-face woman.
Something picked her up from the ground. The gentleness in its touch must have gone on holiday because she found herself screaming out as the grip held her firmly on her upper arm.
"One more word from you and the hands of the Keepers would be the best thing you ever wish for" Trisha bellowed.
Ema gnashed her teeth and bit down whatever cry that tried to surface. She supported her weight with her feet, hoping to lean away from the metallic claws. That seemed to solve the problem. She was glad when the pain reduced, but the burning sensation left her hands at the mercy of the Keepers.
"I asked for a good show. Hah, is that too much to ask? Just one flawless night." Trisha scoffed.
Ema remained silent, looking at everywhere in the room but to the woman. Her vision had cleared now. She could see the black boot of the woman as they paced the small room. The toughness on the black shoes portrayed the looks that surely must be on Trisha's face now. Ema didn't dare to make eye contact. Not that she was afraid of the woman, but she was being careful. One eye contact and the woman would notice the absence of the scalp in her eyes.
"You've served your purpose. You made me lose 6,000 Qiz tonight, thank you, Sparkle. Any last words before I send your sorry ass to Ogred?"
"Water" Ema whispered weakly
"Water? By the name of the creator, you made me lose 6,000 Qiz. Do you know how much that is? I guess you haven't seen such fortune in this your wretched life, that's why you are bold to ask for water. If you have seen 6,000 Quiz, you would be the one pleading with me to send you to Ogred."
Ema heaved weakly as the manager's footing went out of sight, to the direction of the door. She could feel sweat lining her brow now. People talk of Ogred as if they have ever been there. It was the worst place to be when one dies. Stories pictured it as a place worse than hell itself. The place, believe to be the prison of Vortex, where torment and suffering in comparison was an exaggeration to its true ordeal.
Please give me water.
Ema wanted to say again, but the words got stuck in her throat and would not form. She was fighting against all odds to remain sane, but she would give the world to have water at the moment.
The hands of the keepers tightened on her arms and pulled her up to her feet. They were dragging her out of the small room, into the hallway that was rich with white light.
"Let me go," She struggled blindly, "Let me go." The angry edge of a needle that sank into her neck, making her dive into that world that was serene, met her words.
Ema drifts back to consciousness again, this time to the passing of white lights lining the ceiling. She didn't know how much time had passed or how long she had been unconscious. They must have drugged her or something because she was still feeling light-headed and unaware of the rest of her body.
"Let me go" she shouted, but the words came out of her lips like a whisper. It was even hard for her to recognize her own voice.
"Just a minute dear" a voice crooked through the hallway like a brooding toad. "it will be over soon,"
Ema tried to place a face on the owner of the voice, but her eyes could not make out the features as the owner of the voice was nowhere in her field of view. The deepness in them told her that the voice belongs to a man. She swallowed as horror cloaked her skin. She hated that voice. Yes, if she remembered correctly, the only male in the vicinity was the therapist, assigned to install the HT into everyone in the cell.
God, please let it not be. She prayed silently.
Her eyes rested on the face of the keeper who controlled the hovering stretcher. Its soulless gaze studied the direction ahead without saving her a glance. The spotless armor that lined its body, neatly reflected the hallway as if mocking that of the mirror.
The stretcher stopped, and Ema tried to register her environment but could not move her head. She could not find any energy to move a limb. Every effort to change her posture met the hands of aridity.
"Where am I? please let me go"
She pleaded, but her plea was met with the hands of the keepers, who lifted her numbed body from the stretcher, to the only bed in the room.
"That would be all for now" The masculine voice that had spoken initially said. He wrote something on the small book he was holding before waving the keepers away.
Pools of white light from the lamp flooded into Ema's eyes, as it was positioned about some meters away from her face.
She shut her eyes and gnashed her teeth at the pain. It was then that she realized that the numbness of her body had also taken away the aching muscles and headache.
"It would be over soon. I promise." She heard the masculine voice say.
"Who are you?" Ema asked, "What are you doing to me? Why can't I move my body?" She tried to open her eyes, but the light was too bright for her retina to register the features of the man.
"Easy dear, easy." The man said and shifted the lamp away from the girl.
"I am a researcher and a therapist."
Ema opened her eyes and studied the masked face that looked down at her like a loving father and his baby on the cradle.
The eyes were emerald green, with eyebrow too many that they could serve as a sunshade. The face was square-shaped, lined with a powerful jaw that suggested years of war. On the bridge of the nose was a round spectacle that contrasted entirely with the warrior's face. The man was not a Candanian, which means he surely was not a doctor and should not be allowed to handle anything related to medicine.
Ema tried to move but could not.
"I would like to carry out a few tests. It is painless and simple, " The man said over the blue masked.
"I do not consent" Ema shouted. "Your eyes, they are green. You are not a Candanian. You are not a doctor. I do not consent. This is illegal."
The resilient end of the mask on the man's face extended.
"It's not in your place, my dear. Your consent has no significant role here."
"I do not consent. This is illegal. Let me go."
Ema tried to move. She tried to battle the weakness that covered her body. But the numb was too great. She couldn't do anything. She only stared like a sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
Help somebody, help me.
The words formed in her mouth, but she could not voice them out. It was as if every attempt to battle the numb made it greater.
"I will be quick, my dear"
Ema bit her lips, hoping that would wake her from the horrible nightmare, but the realization of reality struck her when she tasted the metallic taste of blood.
"Somebody help" Ema screamed as tears blurred her vision.
The researcher only smiled. The scissors he held glint with the white light in the room. And as Ema watched, she realized that he was aiming for her eyes.
"No, no" She kicked and screamed, fighting with the belt on the bed, but every attempt was futile.
A loud noise echoed on the door as the lock bolt left its place. Some voices followed too, but Ema shields her eyes when the white light came pouring into the darkroom, drawing tears from the pool of her lacrimal gland. The vague features of the people who stood at the door rupture into multiple images, making it difficult to distinguish one from the next.
"You messed up. You messed with the wrong woman, Sparkle"
Ema blinked as the voice resonated in her eardrum. The grallian accent of the woman was as bad as her vision. But despite the revabration, she was able to place a face on the voice even without looking. Yes, the cat-cry of a voice belongs to Trisha; the goat face woman that parades herself as her manager.
Ema tried to stand, but that only sent a wave of pain through her body. The lump on the back of her head was beginning to throb, making her crank like a steam engine. She couldn't even lick her lower lips without flinching. Every attempt to breathe was an agony of hell. She must have fractured a rib or two. It was hard to tell. If only she could have a taste of water, maybe she could bring her mind to think better.
"You say something sparkle?" Trisha asked, but Ema remained quiet. Her throat was burning with thirst and she was not ready to argue with the foolish goat-face woman.
Something picked her up from the ground. The gentleness in its touch must have gone on holiday because she found herself screaming out as the grip held her firmly on her upper arm.
"One more word from you and the hands of the Keepers would be the best thing you ever wish for" Trisha bellowed.
Ema gnashed her teeth and bit down whatever cry that tried to surface. She supported her weight with her feet, hoping to lean away from the metallic claws. That seemed to solve the problem. She was glad when the pain reduced, but the burning sensation left her hands at the mercy of the Keepers.
"I asked for a good show. Hah, is that too much to ask? Just one flawless night." Trisha scoffed.
Ema remained silent, looking at everywhere in the room but to the woman. Her vision had cleared now. She could see the black boot of the woman as they paced the small room. The toughness on the black shoes portrayed the looks that surely must be on Trisha's face now. Ema didn't dare to make eye contact. Not that she was afraid of the woman, but she was being careful. One eye contact and the woman would notice the absence of the scalp in her eyes.
"You've served your purpose. You made me lose 6,000 Qiz tonight, thank you, Sparkle. Any last words before I send your sorry ass to Ogred?"
"Water" Ema whispered weakly
"Water? By the name of the creator, you made me lose 6,000 Qiz. Do you know how much that is? I guess you haven't seen such fortune in this your wretched life, that's why you are bold to ask for water. If you have seen 6,000 Quiz, you would be the one pleading with me to send you to Ogred."
Ema heaved weakly as the manager's footing went out of sight, to the direction of the door. She could feel sweat lining her brow now. People talk of Ogred as if they have ever been there. It was the worst place to be when one dies. Stories pictured it as a place worse than hell itself. The place, believe to be the prison of Vortex, where torment and suffering in comparison was an exaggeration to its true ordeal.
Please give me water.
Ema wanted to say again, but the words got stuck in her throat and would not form. She was fighting against all odds to remain sane, but she would give the world to have water at the moment.
The hands of the keepers tightened on her arms and pulled her up to her feet. They were dragging her out of the small room, into the hallway that was rich with white light.
"Let me go," She struggled blindly, "Let me go." The angry edge of a needle that sank into her neck, making her dive into that world that was serene, met her words.
Ema drifts back to consciousness again, this time to the passing of white lights lining the ceiling. She didn't know how much time had passed or how long she had been unconscious. They must have drugged her or something because she was still feeling light-headed and unaware of the rest of her body.
"Let me go" she shouted, but the words came out of her lips like a whisper. It was even hard for her to recognize her own voice.
"Just a minute dear" a voice crooked through the hallway like a brooding toad. "it will be over soon,"
Ema tried to place a face on the owner of the voice, but her eyes could not make out the features as the owner of the voice was nowhere in her field of view. The deepness in them told her that the voice belongs to a man. She swallowed as horror cloaked her skin. She hated that voice. Yes, if she remembered correctly, the only male in the vicinity was the therapist, assigned to install the HT into everyone in the cell.
God, please let it not be. She prayed silently.
Her eyes rested on the face of the keeper who controlled the hovering stretcher. Its soulless gaze studied the direction ahead without saving her a glance. The spotless armor that lined its body, neatly reflected the hallway as if mocking that of the mirror.
The stretcher stopped, and Ema tried to register her environment but could not move her head. She could not find any energy to move a limb. Every effort to change her posture met the hands of aridity.
"Where am I? please let me go"
She pleaded, but her plea was met with the hands of the keepers, who lifted her numbed body from the stretcher, to the only bed in the room.
"That would be all for now" The masculine voice that had spoken initially said. He wrote something on the small book he was holding before waving the keepers away.
Pools of white light from the lamp flooded into Ema's eyes, as it was positioned about some meters away from her face.
She shut her eyes and gnashed her teeth at the pain. It was then that she realized that the numbness of her body had also taken away the aching muscles and headache.
"It would be over soon. I promise." She heard the masculine voice say.
"Who are you?" Ema asked, "What are you doing to me? Why can't I move my body?" She tried to open her eyes, but the light was too bright for her retina to register the features of the man.
"Easy dear, easy." The man said and shifted the lamp away from the girl.
"I am a researcher and a therapist."
Ema opened her eyes and studied the masked face that looked down at her like a loving father and his baby on the cradle.
The eyes were emerald green, with eyebrow too many that they could serve as a sunshade. The face was square-shaped, lined with a powerful jaw that suggested years of war. On the bridge of the nose was a round spectacle that contrasted entirely with the warrior's face. The man was not a Candanian, which means he surely was not a doctor and should not be allowed to handle anything related to medicine.
Ema tried to move but could not.
"I would like to carry out a few tests. It is painless and simple, " The man said over the blue masked.
"I do not consent" Ema shouted. "Your eyes, they are green. You are not a Candanian. You are not a doctor. I do not consent. This is illegal."
The resilient end of the mask on the man's face extended.
"It's not in your place, my dear. Your consent has no significant role here."
"I do not consent. This is illegal. Let me go."
Ema tried to move. She tried to battle the weakness that covered her body. But the numb was too great. She couldn't do anything. She only stared like a sacrificial lamb waiting to be slaughtered.
Help somebody, help me.
The words formed in her mouth, but she could not voice them out. It was as if every attempt to battle the numb made it greater.
"I will be quick, my dear"
Ema bit her lips, hoping that would wake her from the horrible nightmare, but the realization of reality struck her when she tasted the metallic taste of blood.
"Somebody help" Ema screamed as tears blurred her vision.
The researcher only smiled. The scissors he held glint with the white light in the room. And as Ema watched, she realized that he was aiming for her eyes.
"No, no" She kicked and screamed, fighting with the belt on the bed, but every attempt was futile.
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