Requiem (46 page)

'The password,
Seline. Do you think your mother would have wanted you to go
through all this? Give us what we want and the pain will stop.'

She couldn't
raise her voice to anything more than a low rasping sound. 'I don't
know the damn password.'

'It's in that
head of yours somewhere. You'll just have to try harder.'

She shifted her
weight. A searing pain shot through her arm. Her voice cracked as
it forced its way out. She looked down at her left forearm where
most of the pain was coming from, keeping her movements steady and
slow to limit the pain but only she could only manage a partial
glimpse. Most of the arm was obscured, tied behind the backrest of
the chair. She could tell they had been cutting her. Some wounds
had been crudely stitched together with metal staples, probably to
keep her from bleeding out she thought.

'I said; you'll
just have to try harder, Seline.'

There was no
hiding from the voice. Each howling syllable was a splinter pressed
into her ears.

'I don't
fucking know!'

She realised
that yelling hurt more than it was worth.

'You'll have to
forgive us for not taking you at your word, Seline'.

She remained
silent, concentrating through the pain, trying to retrace whatever
steps had led her into this butcher's surgery.

'You're
wondering how you got here aren't you?'

She lifted her
head.

'You look so
worried, Seline. That's good – you should be.'

'What the fuck
have you been injecting into me?'

'Just something
to help you remember. You have proven to be... stubborn.'

She didn't
expect an answer but the question forced itself from her. 'Where is
Abigail? What have you done with her?'

'When we decide
that you are ready, then you'll know.'

She noticed
small speckles of red sprayed over the giant mirror. A few of her
teeth were loose. She spat out the blood that had collected in her
mouth into the drain by her feet.

'How long have
you kept me here?'

'Not long
enough it seems.' The voice cut off abruptly. She was left
listening to the sound of her own shallow breathing and the slow
patting sound of the water dripping from her body.

She spat into
the drain again but couldn't get the taste of blood and medicine
out of her mouth. She wondered what the time was but they'd removed
her optics. She thought for a second then, using her left foot,
pulled up the pant leg of her right leg. She could feel the stubble
of her leg against her bare foot. She'd shaved her legs just before
she left. They couldn't have had her for long. No more than a
day.

Unless they
shaved my legs.

The hair on her
head looked the same length as she last remembered it. She wanted
to check under her arms but there was no way to look under her
shirt. Her arms were held right against her body anyway. She
wriggled her shoulders but couldn't feel anything. It hurt to move
so she stopped. She heard faint footsteps from the hallway. Two
sets. She pulled at the braces as hard as she could. The edges were
sharp. The more she panicked the more they dug into her skin. Her
left hand was clenched into a fist. Her right hand was still
unresponsive but still she struggled. Her nails dug into her palm.
Her fingers were wet, slick from blood. The footsteps stopped. She
waited and listened and heard them trail off into the distance
again. She looked around the room, gathering clues as to where she
might be.

The footsteps
approached the door again. She stared at the mirror, looking at the
reflection of the door, waiting for someone to enter but they never
did. She listened but the footsteps never walked away.

There was
nothing to rest her head against so she let it hung down in front
of her. When it became too sore she leaned it over the backrest of
the seat. She was drifting off to sleep. Something inside her was
screaming at her and begging her to stay awake but her eyelids
began to fall until the pale darkness became complete.

Something
stabbed into her neck. She tried to swat it away but her hand
wouldn't move.

'She's so cute
when she's sleeping, isn't she?'

There was
laughter. The light sunk through her eyelids, burning her eyes in
their sockets.

A thick finger
traced across her chin and wiped away the saliva. She opened her
eyes but couldn't focus on anything. Figures moved around her as a
dark blur against the room's light. Seline was moving her head
about trying to make things clear again until a hand smothered her
mouth. Fingers wrapped under her chin. She could taste the sweat on
the palm of the hand. Another hand groped over her chest.

'Get your hand
off her tits you fucking ape!' someone screamed. One of the big
hands was slapped away from her.

'You only touch
her when and where I tell you to touch her. Until I say otherwise,
you keep your fucking hands to yourself. Do you hear me?'

There was no
response.

'I said, do you
fucking hear me? She belongs to me!'

There was still
no response but the talking stopped.

'Perfect,
Seline.' came the voice. 'Keep your neck just like that.'

There was
another prick and then darkness.

She woke up on
the floor, wet and shivering. The first thing she recognised were
the thick metallic braces at the bottom of the chair legs. They
were open. The braces that had held her arms were also open. The
chair stood over her, looking down, proud of the work it had done.
She was free. She lay as still as possible, afraid that if she made
any sudden movements she'd wake herself up. It hurt to breathe, as
if a giant weight was pressing down on her chest. She wondered if
she was being watched from somewhere beyond the massive
mirror-wall. Eventually she summoned enough courage and pulled her
hand to her face and touched her cheek. It felt real enough. At
least the pain of the bruises did. She reached out for the chair
leg. It was solid, cold.

She stood up
slowly and as quietly as she could. She looked down at her feet,
disturbing the water and the thin ribbons of blood that spiralled
towards the small drain. She tried to flex the fingers on her right
hand. They moved – barely. There was no strength in them at
all.

The door was
slightly ajar. She held her breath and listened. Not a sound. The
initial confusion was whitewashed by the sensation of freedom and
before she could stop she was at the door grabbing at the handle
and yanking at it with all her strength. She could only pull with
one arm but the door moved. Her eyes widened. She yanked again and
again then tried to squeeze through the gap that had formed. Amidst
her struggling, she didn't hear the footsteps.

A voice came
from the other side of the door. 'I was wondering when you'd wake
up.' She froze. 'You didn't think it would be that easy did
you?'

'Shit.'

Laughter. A
massive hand smothered her face and thrust her back into the room.
The back of her head smacked against the floor. A hulking figure
pushed the door to the side. He entered with a smaller man before
closing the door. Seline heard it lock from the other side.

'You idiot,
what did I tell you about hitting her head?' said the smaller man.
'You'll have to forgive my friend here, Seline. He is new after
all. I'm sure you understand.' He walked over to the mirror and
casually began grooming himself, combing the remaining strands of
hair across his balding scalp. 'Pick her up,' he said to the
other.

The large man
bent down to pick Seline off the floor. She kicked straight at his
knee but he saw it coming, grabbed her foot and twisted it. She
screamed and kicked with the other leg. She hit him directly in the
stomach but he brushed off the pain. He reached for her throat and
pulled her up off the floor. He shoved her back down in the chair,
and held her arms backwards. The steel braces were clamped around
her wrists once again. She kicked wildly but couldn't fight against
his strength as he secured her legs to the chair.

She thrashed
about as much as the braces would allow. She had been so blinded by
the possibility of freedom, she'd ignored that initial sense of
confusion. But it was still there, lingering in the back of her
mind. She could hear it whispering to her.

Too good to be
true. I told you so. You stupid bitch, I told you so. You walked
right into it. You got your hopes up for nothing.

She began to
settle, realising that she was back at square one and that, in
fact, she'd never really left it in the first place. The small man
stood before her. The number two circled his left arm on a small
green display screen. He stroked his chin with his fidgeting
fingers. He looked like a cockroach, forever grooming himself but
never able to escape the filth that wore him like a cloak. He
leaned right into her face. She tried to pull away.

'I hope, for
your sake, Seline, that you're a quick learner.' His words
slithered from his mouth. They fell from the tip of his tongue,
dripping into her ear. 'And I hope for
my
sake that you
aren't.'

Seline didn't
reply.

He pulled away.
'A non-response is as good as any other, Seline. Don't think you're
being clever or difficult. It won't matter in the end anyway.'

'You look like
a cockroach,' she said.

'I'll promise
not to take that too personally but only if you promise to return
the favour.'

He slammed his
fist into her stomach. She doubled forward Spit was dripping from
her open mouth. The Cockroach stood back and brushed two loose
strands of hair back into place. 'Nothing personal,' he said.

He stared at
her in silence, waiting for her to look him in the eyes. When she
finally did he reached into the pocket of his white lab coat and
pulled out a pair of scissors. He snipped at the air as if
displaying them to a child for the first time. He pointed the
scissors at Seline. Her hand had clenched into a fist. She could
hear quiet laughter from the man behind her.

'I think I
enjoy this part the most.' He smiled. 'I can see the thoughts
tumbling around inside your head.' He walked around behind her.
'Fear and hope all mixed together, waging their little war, placing
their bets on what will happen next.' She could see the reflection
of the other man standing about two metres away, staring at her
with quiet indifference, the number five circulating around his
arm.

'So, Seline,'
continued the cockroach, 'do you want to know what the scissors are
for?'

She looked at
the floor.

'You're afraid
to ask? That's alright. I'd rather show you anyway.'

He stepped in
front of her and grabbed the collar of her shirt. 'They're very
sharp so I suggest you remain as still as possible.' He started
cutting down the centre of her shirt. She tried to kick, she tried
to punch but her arms and legs wouldn't move. The braces dug into
her ankles and wrists.

'Calm down,
Seline. It's just a shirt. I'm sure you can afford another.' He
finished cutting it then threw it to the floor. The other man moved
to pick it up.

'Leave it,'
said the Cockroach. 'There, isn't that a relief?' he said to
Seline. 'That shirt was a bit grubby anyway.'

She stared at
him, fighting back the disgust and anger, trying to deny him the
pleasure.

'Don't look at
me like that, Seline. You'll only make things worse for yourself.'
He paused for a moment. 'Before we go any further you must know;
everything that happens in this room happens for a reason.
Everything that happens to you is a consequence of
your
actions. I am merely a servant; a servant of the force of
causation. My purpose in this universe is to follow the lines that
have been set out before me. We have both been following these
lines our whole lives and it just so happens that those lines
intersect at this very moment and will continue to do so for the
indefinite future. Now, I hope you don't let this go to your head
but I am here specially for you. And, fleeting as it may be, I hope
to make the most of our time together.'

'Drop the
philosophical bullshit. You sound like a fucking... like the back
of a cereal box. You're only here because NeoCorp is paying
you.'

'They may pay
my bills but just between you and me, I would gladly do this for
free.'

She wanted to
tear his eyes out. She would trade her left arm just for the
chance.

A hand slapped
her lightly on the back of the head. 'Pay attention. You might
learn something.' The Cockroach glared at the big man before
directing a question at Seline.

'Why did you
try to escape from this room?'

She stared at
the floor.

'Seline? It's
an easy question.'

Her eyes didn't
move.

'There's a
lesson to be learned here,' he continued 'If you could stop
drooling for just a second, you might even be able to figure it
out.'

'You were just
fucking with me.'

He brushed the
hair from her face and trailed a finger down and along her jaw. He
knelt down next her and began working the scissors down the length
of one of her trouser legs. He walked around her and cut the other
side. 'No, Seline. That is not correct,' he said before peeling the
trousers from her legs and letting them fall to the floor. She
could hear him inhale and sigh as he breathed out. He walked behind
her and stood there, holding himself against her back. He was
looking at her in the reflection, his coat buttoned all the way to
the top, his skin greasy and shining from sweat, his erection held
hard against her back. He placed his hands on her shoulders and
gently ran his fingers across them. She closed her eyes.

He walked
around to face her. She held her eyes closed, expecting the worst.
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. His breath smelt of mint.
She wondered if he'd brushed his teeth just for her. He pushed her
head to the side and sniffed up the side of her neck. The Cockroach
laughed quietly to himself.