Trapped

The scientist’s eyes were wide as the elf spoke. The elf, Zalen, was ready to pounce on him again. He couldn’t care less if the welt was burning like a bitch. He just wanted to get away from the monster that was holding him captive. He wanted to get out of this place and go back to his family, take care of his family. He couldn’t let these men win. He couldn’t let this mere boy be the end of him.

The pain was too great, though, and the scientist’s reaction was strange. He sounded as though he was apologising. He sounded truly horrified at having shocked him. Zalen realized the words that had slipped past his lips. Had they been the right choice?

The scientist, Ryker, seemed to discard of the threat for the moment. He reached down, wrapping an arm around Zalen’s waist and pulling him up. Zalen could feel him deliberately avoiding the welt that had formed along his ribs. He wished the shock wave had been strong enough to kill him. That would have been so much better.

The boy dragged him along down the hall. Zalen made no attempt to help. He let the boy struggle. It was probably the last time he’d be able to. He wasn’t losing it.

Ryker pulled out a key as they reached the thick steel door at the end of the hall. Zalen held his breath, a sudden wave of unexpected terror ripping through him. What was behind the door?

The key slipped into the keyhole, turned the lock, and Ryker pulled open the door. Zalen’s blood ran cold at the sight, suddenly feeling faint. He stared at the gadgets hanging along the walls, the syringes and knives, the chisels and hammers. If this wasn’t hell, he had no clue what was.

Ryker pulled him in. Zalen noticed the boy glancing cautiously over his shoulder before slamming the door and locking it. He hesitated only a second before bringing the elf to the table situated at the center of the room.

“Just fucking kill me now,” Zalen growled, tugging back. He felt the scientist shudder. “Really, what is wrong with you? What kind of scientist are you, shuddering at the thought of killing me?”

“Whether I explain myself or not, you’ll say I’m bullshitting you so what’s the use? It’ll just waste my breath.”

“So I’m not worth your air?” Zalen snapped at the insult.

“If you weren’t do you honestly think I’d be talking to you?” Ryker replied calmly. “Sit down and take off your shirt.”

“No,” Zalen replied firmly.

In reality, though, his refusal was due to the fact that he couldn’t take it off. The pain in his side was too much. He was sure it would be worse if he lifted his arms. The material of his shirt rubbing over the welt wouldn’t help much either.

“Yes,” Ryker ordered without glancing back as he gathered some equipment.

“What are you going to do? Cut me open? See if my blood is green like an insect? Take samples of my flesh and see if I’m human?” Zalen seethed. “I’ll repeat myself; fuck. No.”

Ryker turned back and returned to the table, his hand pressing onto the elf’s chest and pushing him down. “First of all, I’m not a moron. I know you’re blood’s red and I know you aren’t human seeing as you’re in this situation. Second of all, if you’d shut up I might actually get the chance to explain what I’m planning to do right now. Third, I’m not like the others. You’re lucky you got landed with me. Trust me.”

Zalen didn’t reply. He glared up at the kid as Ryker reached forward and gripped the hem of his shirt. Ryker met his gaze firmly before continuing to speak.

“I know already that it’s going to hurt to lift your arms. Don’t hold your breath. Lift your arms in one shot. The faster you move, the faster I get this thing off you.”

“Why do you want my shirt off?” Zalen inquired with an edge to his tone.

“I want to look at the welt,” the scientist replied. “I have to bandage it. It’s bleeding through your shirt already which is not a good thing. Now lift your arms.”

“No,” Zalen refused.

“Jesus,” Ryker sighed as he let go of his patient’s shirt. “You are impossible. Just lift your fucking arms!”

“Why the hell do you want to heal the welt? Why not just leave me to suffer? Get me used to the pain?” Zalen retorted.

“Sh!” Ryker hissed, his hand shooting up and covering the elf’s mouth. “Keep your voice down.”

Zalen’s brows rose. “You’re breaking the rules?”

Ryker still had his hand covering Zalen’s mouth making the words sound muffled. He heard the words clear as day, though. He had probably heard many renditions of that phrase since he began working here. He nodded in response before cautiously removing his hand.

“Please lift your arms,” he repeated.

Zalen sighed and quickly raised his arms. He hissed at the pain shooting through him. Ryker gripped the hem of his shirt and tugged it up over his elf’s head. He threw it aside and carefully gripped Zalen’s arms, gently lowering them in a position that would allow both comfort for Zalen and access for Ryker.

Zalen sat tensely as he waited for the scientist to finish what he was doing. His jaw clenched as fingers brushed the injury, an involuntary growl escaping his lips. He felt Ryker’s hand jerk back and watched as it reached for the equipment set out on the table beside them.

“Why?” he asked finally, glancing over at the boy working on his burn.

“Why what?” Ryker replied, sparing him a glance before returning to his work.

“Why are you breaking the rules?” Zalen clarified.

“Because I never wanted this life. This was the last thing I wanted to waste my life doing. I didn’t want to be a murderer. When they chose me for that I made up my mind. I would do my best to make it less horrible than the other monsters here. I wouldn’t sink to their level. Well, for the torture, at least.”

Zalen watched the boy work, his slim fingers gently pressing a bandage to his now clean injury. He stared at them even as they pulled away, his gaze slipping up to meet his scientist’s. The boy stared back, his arms crossed.

“I didn’t choose this life and I never would’ve,” Ryker explained bluntly. “This place is a hell to me. If I could, I’d burn the entire place down. I’d get the victims out and burn this God damn hell. This is the worst place I’ve ever been and I regret living through everything I have. I’ve wanted to end it. Just end my life and I’d be out. I never do, though, because I know there’s going to be one patient who is lucky enough to get me. Whether they agree at first or not, they wind up realizing that yes, they were extremely lucky in being assigned to me.”

“Monsters?” Zalen asked curiously.

“The other scientists,” Ryker answered. “Those who enjoy the torture they inflict upon all of you. It’s sickening.”

Zalen stayed silent as the scientist put his things away. He cleaned them off before unlocking the door and stepping out for a second. He slipped back in with clothing. He held them out to me, a disgusted look on his face.

“It’s not much,” he sighed, “and I know it’s degrading, but this is all I have and I can’t break this rule. It’s too risky.”

Zalen accepted the outfit. He stared down at the white material. He heard Ryker walk to the other side of the room, the sound of papers being shuffled ringing through the dungeon-like space. Zalen looked up as Ryker approached again and left something next to him before walking to the window and sitting on the chair by it, staring out blankly.

Zalen got up, his gaze on the boy as he went to pull on his shirt. Pain shot through him and he grunted, letting out a heavy breath. The sound pulled Ryker back to reality, getting him back on his feet and standing before his elf. Zalen realized what he had in mind when Ryker gripped the top, taking it out of his hands.

“Lift your arms. Same as before,” Ryker ordered calmly.

Grumbling, Zalen let his arms rise. His teeth clenched as Ryker reached up and slid the garment on him. He managed to avoid Zalen’s welt and let the shirt go. The boy’s hands automatically moved to the elf’s belt, not thinking twice of the gesture. It was only when he was kneeling before the man, motioning for him to step out of the garment that he realised his position.

Zalen stared down as the boy froze. Ryker slowly glanced up, his cheeks flaming bright red. Zalen was in a similar position, shocked by the thoughts racing through his head. He pushed them away and hastily stepped out of the pants, falling back a step as he waited for Ryker to get the new pair.

He tried leaning down to pull them up himself but the boy held a hand up, stopping him. Ryker pulled the piece of clothing up the elf’s legs and stood up, tying them. Zalen noticed hints of the boy’s blush, positive he had a similar expression. He shouldn’t have been thinking that way about him but the boy walked right into it with his actions.

“Sorry,” the boy blushed, “I’m used to doing that. It’s out of habit.”

As though realising how horrible that sounded, as well, he groaned and smacked himself in the forehead. Zalen bit back a laugh at the boy’s embarrassment.

“Shit, not what I meant!” Ryker recovered, his hands covering his face.

“Well,” Zalen started. “It’s okay. I...appreciate the help.”

“Right,” Ryker blushed. “Right.”

He turned and scurried back to his chair, sitting there quietly and not looking at Zalen once. Zalen watched him curiously, trying his damndest to get the image of the boy on his knees out of his head. He was supposed to hate this kid. He shouldn’t be fantasizing about him.