Eighteen
Logan
I’m early to the lab today and haven’t had enough caffeine yet. Without thinking, I scrub a hand down my face, then jerk back when I accidentally touch my cheek where Adam decked me last night.
I still can’t believe that Dr. Laurel didn’t listen to me when I went to his office afterwards to tell him about Adam’s schemes. Then again, he’s grief stricken. Maybe if I try again today, when he’s in a better frame of mind…
I go to the wall and unlatch the sterile equipment cabinet, pulling out the goggles with my name on them. We all started labeling our equipment after some pieces started going missing last year. Now we sign everything in and out.
I ran a group of experiments overnight and I’m eager to look at the slides. So I tug the goggles into position and start on my work, bent over my microscope.
Everything’s normal at first. Business as usual.
Until it’s not.
It starts as an itch.
And then becomes an uncomfortable tingling.
I ignore it. I have work to do. And I’m hoping Daphne will come in at lunch. If I finish up all the slides, then maybe I can sneak her out of here and we can go to Giuseppe’s for pizza and—
The tingling becomes a burning and I push my rolling chair back from the microscope, yanking off my goggles and blinking hard.
What the hell?
I lift my hand to my face but stop just before making contact. Instead, I hurry to the bathroom, shouldering past someone on their way out.
“Hey man, watch out!”
I ignore him and make my way to the mirror, shoving my face towards the glass. It doesn’t look that bad. There was only the smallest incision from where Adams class ring caught my cheek last night when he punched me, but now the whole area is puffy and red.
But then, as I watch, red vein-like spindles begin to spider outwards. Down my cheek. Up towards my left eye.
I stumble back from the mirror, grunting in shocked surprise.
But it’s not stopping.
It only accelerates as I watch.
I reach my phone to call 911 but by the time I’ve dialed, the mirror is already revealing a monster.
The infection or whatever it is, is spreading like spilled ink through the veins of my face. And I’m being lit on fire from within. Hellfire. Burning me alive from the inside out.
I vaguely hear the 911 operator over the phone I dropped to the floor but I’m too busy screaming to answer. Without thinking, I raise my hands to my face but as soon as I make contact, the infection spreads to my fingers.
I burst out of the bathroom looking for somebody, anybody to help. But the first person to see me, Sandra from research and development, screams and drops the files she’s holding.
“Help,” I try to say, but my throat is burning.
I collapse to my knees and that’s when I realize I’m dying.
A slow clap comes from the corner. I lift my face, that now feels like an inferno, just in time to make out Adam’s satisfied smirk as he stands and claps, as if me dying in front of him is some sort of performance art.
I lunge for him but someone else catches me in their arms.
“Logan!” Daphne tries to catch me, but I’m too heavy, and we both topple to the ground.
No! The only possible thing that could have made this worse is having her witness it. But I’m wrong, so wrong. There is something worse.
Because when I finally managed to pull myself off of Daphne, I see her looking at her own hands in confusion. Seconds before they too begin to redden and then start to disintegrate before my very eyes.
Her ear splitting scream of terror and confusion is the last thing I hear before—
My eyes shoot open and I bolt upright. Or at least I try to.
I barely make it an inch before the restraints strapped around my body on all sides keep me in place.
Because I’m strapped down to a fucking hospital bed. And this isn’t a kinky game of power exchange with my Daphne.
I don’t know where I am but I know I don’t want to be here.
Especially when the door opens and an orderly pops his head in. Then I hear a whispered exchange.
“It’s your turn. I don’t want to have to deal with that crazy fucker again today. Did you see what they’re giving him in his drug cocktail? They should be sedating him but instead they are giving him—” he mentions some drug I’m not familiar with. I guess the other nurse isn’t either, because then he clarifies, “It’s basically LSD. I don’t know what the hell they’re thinking. That shit’s just going to wind him up and make him twice as crazy while he’s all strapped up like that.”
“But we get hazard pay and a half,” says another male voice. “And I got bills to pay.”
“Yeah, I guess,” the other guy mutters, though he doesn’t sound happy about it. “Don’t know what good that’s going to do me if I got a broken neck. You see Nick? That guy’s a giant, right? But even Nick got two of his teeth knocked out bringing this guy in.”
My own teeth grate as I strain against the restraints, looking for any weakness I might exploit. But there’s so many damn straps up and down my arms and legs, even if I got one free, how the hell am I going to get out of the rest?
Because I have to get back to Daphne. Fuck. Daphne. She can’t handle this kind of stress right now. It’s literally one of the worst things for someone in her condition. How long have I been here? How long since the…the wedding?
My hands fist. I am going to fucking kill Adam Archer for ruining that moment for Daphne. The memory of him clapping while I disintegrate from flesh-eating bacteria in front of him… Bile burns up my throat.
Of course, that’s not exactly how that day went down. I went to the bathroom, saw the redness and swelling, and a couple hours later when the stinging continued, I went to the doctor. And after some tests came back, was immediately admitted to the ICU.
I could never prove it, but I don’t doubt it was Adam who ordered the infectious sample from the CDC. Adam who put it on my goggles. Adam who tried to murder me in one of the most horrific ways possible.
And now I’m here for the exact same reason. Adam fucking Archer, taking another swing at me.
As my fury builds, my vision begins to blur. There’s a high, slim horizontal window at the top of the wall, and the light begins to shimmer and twist. I blink hard, but the light still dances. I glance around and for the first time notice that the walls aren’t that steady either. Everything is swaying slightly.
Fuck, what drugs are they shoving into me without my consent?
Which is when I look down my body and notice the IV stuck in my arm. Shit, they’re still actively pumping poison into me.
Get it out. Get it the hell out!
As I watch, the line of the IV starts to undulate like a snake, burrowing into my skin. I twist and scratch, but I’m bound too tightly. I can’t get to it to yank it out.
“Help!” I scream as the poison spreads. “Get it out!”
But no one comes. No one ever comes to help.
And then there are a thousand snakes, all skittering through my veins, poison, poison. They’ll burn me. They’ll chew on me and burn me, eating me alive from the inside out.
I scream and scream, until my voice is hoarse, until I have no more voice, but no one ever comes to save me.