Status: I hope to finish this one ;)
Welcome to Skinner Falls
They Lied
They Lied
Agonizing pain is felt in my head. I reach out temporary blind by the bright light. My hands feel something soft all around me. Where am I? Putting my hands to my sides I push myself up off the cozy ground.
My hands reach for my head. I let out a hiss. When I look at my hands I am glad to see no blood trauma was caused. My eyes finally adjust to the square room. One door, one camera, No windows.
I stand up to take a better overview. There isn’t much to actually admire in this room. All the walls and ceiling is cushion, just like the floor. Strange, they leave me in a room where I can’t hurt my self in, yet I have no strait jacket on. Not even my hands are bound.
Feeling the softness between my toes, just noticing that I am bare foot. My clothes seem like they have been changed. Now I wear a white grown. Closer examination revels that Bruises line my arms and legs. If I could see my reflection, I am sure I look like hell.
Turning around in a full circle, I finally notice him, Tyson. What is he doing in here? I hurry over to the corner where he sits. He’s eyes are focus straight ahead and on nothing else. As if in a trance.
“Tyson?” I say as I wave my hand out in front.
Tyson don't speak but instead pulls his legs toward him and sits with his arms resting on his knees. This don't make sense. Maybe he don't remember me. I try again to call his attention. Giving up I sit next to him on the ground. I place my hand on his shoulder for comfort, but instead he winces.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Nothing. Not even a wisecrack joke. He probably will get anger with me, but I wonder… I reach for Tyson’s grown at his side and start pull it up a little bit to see if my theory is correct. Horribly it was.
I can see some marks applying abuse. Could they be old or new? I let go as the grown falls back into place. Standing up I look down at Tyson and offer my hand. With some encouraging words it might work.
“Tyson, Please take my hand.” I offer.
To be honest, I have no idea how, but Tyson finally takes my hand and I help him up. Yes I know the camera will be watching, but I still have a case to solve, and if that leads me to more misery, I am fine with that.
“Don’t move, just hold still.” I say.
Walking behind him I see where the grown buttons and ties in the back. Undoing the buttons one by one I try to work fast before knowing what the people watching might do. With simple pull the knot comes untied and the gown falls. I gasp.
Gruesome, is not even close to what I am witnessing. Whip marks covered his back. Dried with blood, some stitch together, some bandaged. Not only that, but burns, scrapes, cuts, scars, bruises and any other thing you could possibly think of, liter his back.
“Wh-what have they done to you?!” I shout.
Tears fill up my eyes I have to sit down from the wave nausea. This place is cruel. The agency was right. Tyson still has no answer. They fucked him up so bad he is probably premitaly traumatize for life. The door opens.
Staff members come in and grab me from the floor. I scream, kick, and yell. No use, they eventually pick me up and took me away. Paying no attention to Tyson who just stands there finding the wall very interesting.
“Look what you done to him!” I scream as they carry me over some guy’s shoulder.
When we got out of the room, the hall seems unusual. It's not your standard white walls and tile floors. The walls are dull metal, and from my position I got a good look at the cement floor.
They are wrong if they think they can just get me this easy. I kick some more, and pound my fist into the guy’s back. Failure is all I endure from this short trip from the padded room to a negotiating room.
The staff member let me down from his grip when we enter into the tiny room. He leaves and locks the door. Turning around I see a steal table and three chairs and a small tiny surveillance TV. Nothing more, nothing less. A hopeful smile came when I see Agent West occupying one of the chairs. While Mr. Hager has the other.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” I say as I take my seat.
“We need to discuss some things.” Says Mr. Hager. His deep voice filling the awkward space.
“What do you mean?” I lean in on the desk to whisper. “ I got evidence that they abuse the patients.”
“Alright, where is it?” Says West, arms folded in front.
“Well there is this guy-“
“Tyson?”
“H-how do you know?”
“I know your going to hate hearing this 2407, but Tyson isn’t real.”
Agonizing pain is felt in my head. I reach out temporary blind by the bright light. My hands feel something soft all around me. Where am I? Putting my hands to my sides I push myself up off the cozy ground.
My hands reach for my head. I let out a hiss. When I look at my hands I am glad to see no blood trauma was caused. My eyes finally adjust to the square room. One door, one camera, No windows.
I stand up to take a better overview. There isn’t much to actually admire in this room. All the walls and ceiling is cushion, just like the floor. Strange, they leave me in a room where I can’t hurt my self in, yet I have no strait jacket on. Not even my hands are bound.
Feeling the softness between my toes, just noticing that I am bare foot. My clothes seem like they have been changed. Now I wear a white grown. Closer examination revels that Bruises line my arms and legs. If I could see my reflection, I am sure I look like hell.
Turning around in a full circle, I finally notice him, Tyson. What is he doing in here? I hurry over to the corner where he sits. He’s eyes are focus straight ahead and on nothing else. As if in a trance.
“Tyson?” I say as I wave my hand out in front.
Tyson don't speak but instead pulls his legs toward him and sits with his arms resting on his knees. This don't make sense. Maybe he don't remember me. I try again to call his attention. Giving up I sit next to him on the ground. I place my hand on his shoulder for comfort, but instead he winces.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Nothing. Not even a wisecrack joke. He probably will get anger with me, but I wonder… I reach for Tyson’s grown at his side and start pull it up a little bit to see if my theory is correct. Horribly it was.
I can see some marks applying abuse. Could they be old or new? I let go as the grown falls back into place. Standing up I look down at Tyson and offer my hand. With some encouraging words it might work.
“Tyson, Please take my hand.” I offer.
To be honest, I have no idea how, but Tyson finally takes my hand and I help him up. Yes I know the camera will be watching, but I still have a case to solve, and if that leads me to more misery, I am fine with that.
“Don’t move, just hold still.” I say.
Walking behind him I see where the grown buttons and ties in the back. Undoing the buttons one by one I try to work fast before knowing what the people watching might do. With simple pull the knot comes untied and the gown falls. I gasp.
Gruesome, is not even close to what I am witnessing. Whip marks covered his back. Dried with blood, some stitch together, some bandaged. Not only that, but burns, scrapes, cuts, scars, bruises and any other thing you could possibly think of, liter his back.
“Wh-what have they done to you?!” I shout.
Tears fill up my eyes I have to sit down from the wave nausea. This place is cruel. The agency was right. Tyson still has no answer. They fucked him up so bad he is probably premitaly traumatize for life. The door opens.
Staff members come in and grab me from the floor. I scream, kick, and yell. No use, they eventually pick me up and took me away. Paying no attention to Tyson who just stands there finding the wall very interesting.
“Look what you done to him!” I scream as they carry me over some guy’s shoulder.
When we got out of the room, the hall seems unusual. It's not your standard white walls and tile floors. The walls are dull metal, and from my position I got a good look at the cement floor.
They are wrong if they think they can just get me this easy. I kick some more, and pound my fist into the guy’s back. Failure is all I endure from this short trip from the padded room to a negotiating room.
The staff member let me down from his grip when we enter into the tiny room. He leaves and locks the door. Turning around I see a steal table and three chairs and a small tiny surveillance TV. Nothing more, nothing less. A hopeful smile came when I see Agent West occupying one of the chairs. While Mr. Hager has the other.
“You have no idea how glad I am to see you.” I say as I take my seat.
“We need to discuss some things.” Says Mr. Hager. His deep voice filling the awkward space.
“What do you mean?” I lean in on the desk to whisper. “ I got evidence that they abuse the patients.”
“Alright, where is it?” Says West, arms folded in front.
“Well there is this guy-“
“Tyson?”
“H-how do you know?”
“I know your going to hate hearing this 2407, but Tyson isn’t real.”