Chapter 3 - Fade to White

By The Wandering Englishman

Squall blinked the light from his eyes as the white-coated Doctor walked over to her desk, noting something down before returning.

“I can’t see any signs of a concussion…how far did you say you fell again?”

“Zell said…About 5, maybe 6 meters.”

The Doctor nodded, checking the leather-clad youth for bruises before taking his pulse.

“Nothing unusual there…you’re in perfect health, Squall. But, I’m going to order a CAT scan and some blood tests, alright?”

The grey eyes watched the Doctors lips, not hearing a word she said as he nodded, which caused the graying woman to smile. His mind was constantly on the void; searching with a dim spotlight for the memories that should be there.

“Right, this won’t hurt a bit.” The tall woman took Squalls wrist in her hand, smiling at him as she pressed a needle to his arm; a needle, which the brunette didn’t notice she’d been holding a moment before. His eyes widened in fear as the metal pierced his skin, the world around him fading around the edges as he fell.

And then there was light.

Sitting up, he looked around, blinking in the sudden bombardment of fluorescent light. He rolled off the bed, hitting the cold white floor with a thud, crawling under the bed for some shade from the unyielding white of the cell.

“8276,” The sound filled to room, causing the scarred youth to cover his ears. “Front and center.”

Squall looked up, still not able to see, but reluctantly obeyed; knowing the punishment for rebellion. He crawled across the floor before standing in position, his eyes facing the wall with the bed, away from the glass door.

He could feel eyes on him, even as he watched the wall, counting the marks he had left on the wall so long ago. They seemed to be probing…looking for some ailment? An excuse to finally kill him?

“How long before the effects are known?” The harsh, accented voice asked, though the Brunette knew it wasn’t to him.

“We should know within the day. Schizophrenia will be induced before he begins to respond correctly. It’s a nasty side effect, but expected to know if the subject has responded.”

The soft, angelic voice…The memory of green eyes looking down at him, filling his mind. Could it have belonged to those eyes? He dared not look, frightened of the blows that would most likely follow.

“When it starts to set in, call me.” The soft voice ordered in a steely tone. “And Have him moved to suite 18. I’ll conduct the tests there.”

The second man walked off in the opposite direction, the brunette listening to the footsteps on the hard surface. When he was sure he was alone, he turned, picking up the plastic tray from the ground and eating the contents.

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