Discovery
Over There
Jake was now 100% sure he was crazy.
Did they seriously teleport me here? Is that how I got in the bank in the first place? Can I teleport? That still doesn’t explain why I “don’t exist”.
Jake tried to teleport out of the plain, grey room he was being kept in but to no avail. All he had managed to do so far was give himself a head ache.
After spending about an hour in the grey room, a plain-faced man came and took him to another grey room. Only this one had a grey chair in the centre of it.
The chair scared Jake. It was one of those ones that dentists used. But it seemed more like one of those ones the victims are strapped into before they are brutally tortured in horror movies.
The man strapped Jake in and then left him. Jake sat there for another hour, his mind creating increasingly gruesome scenarios in his mind. Being experimented on, having nails hammered into your body, having to listen to crappy boy bands for extended lengths of time. Horrible.
Then the man walked in wheeling some sort of machine, followed by the woman.
“Let us introduce ourselves,” said the man, “I am Peter, and this is my twin sister, Renae.” He said, pointing to the woman. “Now can you tell us your name?”
The man, Peter, sounded nice enough, but his eyes were dead cold and his smile was fake.
“Your name.” Said Renae. It was obvious Peter was trying to hide his discontent, Renae, however, didn’t bother. Hatred was clear on her petite face.
“Jake.” Fear shook his voice and made him sound like a child.
“How many times have you teleported?” asked Peter.
“What?” Again Jake had the overwhelming feeling of not knowing what in the hell was going on.
“Have you ever teleported before now?”
As ludicrous as the question was Jake didn’t want to not give this man an answer. “No.” He said.
“And have you ever had contact with this universe before? Or had any strange experiences where you felt like you traveled to another world?
“No.” Jake said again. What did he mean by ‘another world’?
“Excellent,” continued Renae, and then, “Dr. Martinez, you may enter now.” She called out.
A small, sniveling man came through the doorway he was wearing a white lab coat and thin-framed, round glasses perched on his sharp nose.
“Blood test,” said Peter, screwing up his nose at the sight of the slightly-hunch-backed man.
The doctor said not a word as he came over to Jake, pulled a syringe from a compartment on the machine Peter had wheeled in earlier, and turned to Jake.
Jake had never had a problem with needles but this one seemed particularly disconcerting, its whole being shadowed with evil intent.
Dr. Martinez took Jakes arm, lined up the needle with the vein in the crook of his elbow and plunged it in. Jake felt a sharp pain as he tensed his muscles, which he knew he wasn’t supposed to do, but his fear got the better of him.
Martinez pulled the needle out and stuck a piece of cotton wool on his arm with a band-aid.
“As soon as possible doctor.” Said Peter. And the three left Jake in the plain, grey room, with his heart pounding and his head racing.
Did they seriously teleport me here? Is that how I got in the bank in the first place? Can I teleport? That still doesn’t explain why I “don’t exist”.
Jake tried to teleport out of the plain, grey room he was being kept in but to no avail. All he had managed to do so far was give himself a head ache.
After spending about an hour in the grey room, a plain-faced man came and took him to another grey room. Only this one had a grey chair in the centre of it.
The chair scared Jake. It was one of those ones that dentists used. But it seemed more like one of those ones the victims are strapped into before they are brutally tortured in horror movies.
The man strapped Jake in and then left him. Jake sat there for another hour, his mind creating increasingly gruesome scenarios in his mind. Being experimented on, having nails hammered into your body, having to listen to crappy boy bands for extended lengths of time. Horrible.
Then the man walked in wheeling some sort of machine, followed by the woman.
“Let us introduce ourselves,” said the man, “I am Peter, and this is my twin sister, Renae.” He said, pointing to the woman. “Now can you tell us your name?”
The man, Peter, sounded nice enough, but his eyes were dead cold and his smile was fake.
“Your name.” Said Renae. It was obvious Peter was trying to hide his discontent, Renae, however, didn’t bother. Hatred was clear on her petite face.
“Jake.” Fear shook his voice and made him sound like a child.
“How many times have you teleported?” asked Peter.
“What?” Again Jake had the overwhelming feeling of not knowing what in the hell was going on.
“Have you ever teleported before now?”
As ludicrous as the question was Jake didn’t want to not give this man an answer. “No.” He said.
“And have you ever had contact with this universe before? Or had any strange experiences where you felt like you traveled to another world?
“No.” Jake said again. What did he mean by ‘another world’?
“Excellent,” continued Renae, and then, “Dr. Martinez, you may enter now.” She called out.
A small, sniveling man came through the doorway he was wearing a white lab coat and thin-framed, round glasses perched on his sharp nose.
“Blood test,” said Peter, screwing up his nose at the sight of the slightly-hunch-backed man.
The doctor said not a word as he came over to Jake, pulled a syringe from a compartment on the machine Peter had wheeled in earlier, and turned to Jake.
Jake had never had a problem with needles but this one seemed particularly disconcerting, its whole being shadowed with evil intent.
Dr. Martinez took Jakes arm, lined up the needle with the vein in the crook of his elbow and plunged it in. Jake felt a sharp pain as he tensed his muscles, which he knew he wasn’t supposed to do, but his fear got the better of him.
Martinez pulled the needle out and stuck a piece of cotton wool on his arm with a band-aid.
“As soon as possible doctor.” Said Peter. And the three left Jake in the plain, grey room, with his heart pounding and his head racing.