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You groan in agony as you feel a tight band squeeze around your head. You flinch as booming voice rings out around the room. “Doctor Samul, I think he’s waking up!”
“Shut up Jamie. You’re too loud.”
You hear a smack and a loud yelp, making you jerk up in bed. Instantly, the world spins and you clutch your head in agony, your vision swimming. You hear a thump as the first voice hisses out a venomous, “Don’t fucking touch me Mira!”
When your vision clears you see two kids sitting across from each other on plastic chairs. They were facing a fireplace, but you notice one has turned the chair slightly towards you. The room was dimly lit but their eyes were glowing an eerie hue. “Lower your voice. Just because you’re deaf in one ear doesn’t mean you get to be loud.” Mira states monotonously.
The other boy, who you assume is Jamie, is an albino with bright red hair who flushes and growls loudly at the other occupant. “Just because you’re older doesn’t mean you get to be a dick !”
Mira jerks his head around and you finally get a good look at his face. He clearly has vitiligo that was mostly visible on the right side of his face. If you had to guess an age you would go with numbers between 16 and 19. Mira raises opens his mouth to retort when the door suddenly opens, cutting off anything the teen wanted to say.
“ Boys .”
Jamie leaps out of his plastic chair as Mira follows behind him at a more sedated pace. Jamie clings to the doctor’s slightly dirty coat with a whine. “Doctor Samul! Tell Mira to stop being an asshole!”
Mira sighs and crosses his arms, showing off how his arms were nearly all white. “Tell James to stop being such a child.”
Doctor Samul sighs and guides the two boys out of the room. “How about you two go talk with Bennett? I’m sure they would be glad to see you.”
Before the two can protest, Doctor Samul nudges the two out the door with a firm smile. He fastens the lock in place and waits until their voices fade before walking towards the fireplace. You watch silently from the bed as the doctor strokes the fire with a spike. Amongst the flames he looks almost sickly, his face skelton-like and tired.
“You must forgive them, they tend to get a little out of hand sometimes. Kids can be like that sometimes.”
You nod in understanding and pull the covers up around your shoulders. “Is it true? Am I really-?”
The doctor sighs and sits in one of the chairs the boys left behind. “Not to far along, but enough to start having hormonal changes,” The doctor pauses before running a hand down his face.
“I’m sorry.”
Your head fills with confusion and you feel your eyes narrow. Why is he sorry? He wasn’t the one who raped you or gave you a pussy, so why is he apologizing? The doctor crosses his legs and leans forward. “Murkoff was very thorough about Project Rebirth. They wanted the best to come and perform the surgeries. I was asked personally by Jeremy- ah, excuse me- Blaire to help out with the project.” You snarl at the man.
“You came here? Willingly ?! Even while you knew what they were doing to the patients!” You rise off the bed in anger and the doctor curls his hands into quivering fists.
“And what about yourself? I read your files, you were programing the damned machines!”
You scramble off the bed and wobble to the fireplace, the accusation cutting you deep. You know your fucking sins, and you’ve been paying for them with your life. Your stomach lurches and you feel a headache coming on. “There’s no fucking excuse.”
The flames coil gracefully as they wrap around the twigs and logs in the fireplace. The bright orange hue does nothing to quell the cold feeling in your body.
“Our little girl was dying Waylon. She had a disease that affected her nerves and the treatment for her was expensive,” The doctor takes in a shuddering breath. “Her disease was a rare one which hadn’t even been researched yet. Murkoff had all the resources to aid her and all Blaire asked for was my loyalty. He just wanted me to what he asked and everything we needed would be free of charge.”
You scoff and look at your hands. Nothing was free in this hellhole; it took everything, even things you didn’t want to give. The doctor rises and walks to stand next to you, his eyes haunted in the light of the flames. You look at him carefully, a sense of comradery forming. “You said we?”
The doctor removes his glasses and wipes them on his grimy black shirt. “We being my wife and I. She was the woman you saw in the picture,” You hum lowly as the doctor continues. “She was a nurse practitioner who specialized in women’s health and pediatrics. She was one of the best her fields. Of course Blaire wanted her to come in.”
“I refuted him, saying that someone had to take care of the baby, but Blaire was holding the key. I couldn’t deny him or else he would take her off life support. So we worked, and prayed that the little one would be okay. And for a while things were okay, the baby was doing well, Faith and I were seeing positive results in our patients.”
The fire whips out like a gust of wind had just blown through the room. “Then Blaire asked for more. I should have known that it wouldn’t be enough for him. I grew up with him after all.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. Doctor Samul nods and crosses his arms. “Jeremy and I lived on the same street, went to the same school high school, even graduated from the same university. He was like my brother in all but blood, but something changed once he got hired by Murkoff. He was always a control freak, always wanting to be in charge, but it was like the knob had been turned to the extreme. He was like a sleazy car salesman, but he wasn’t selling cars, he was buying bodies.”
“At first it was women who had willing volunteered for the program. We simply injected sperm and monitored their health status. We should have known something was wrong when the patients were either having false pregnancies or miscarrying before reaching full term. Nothing was adding up though, we gave them everything they needed to thrive and yet- it was like a force was preventing us from succeeding. That was before we knew how the sperm was harvested and what it contained.”
Your throat dries up and you wheeze quietly. “W-where was it from?”
“The Walrider.”
With that statement the fire roars and whips out wildly, as if calling the name had summoned the creature itself. The fire climbs its prison with angry reds and yellows, the colors resembling claws scratching against the brick. “Somehow they had extracted the essence from the creature and had been injecting female patients with it. But their bodies weren’t compatible and that’s why the pregnancies were failing. I informed Blaire about this and he threatened to take my daughter away. So I did what any father does. I planned to protect my family,” Doctor Samul kneels over and tosses a log into the fire. “I don’t need to tell you what Murkoff does to people who try to leave.”
You feel yourself unconsciously shiver as flashes of bright colors runs through your mind. “Blaire found out almost instantaneously, and snatched me away from Faith. When the guards dragged me out, all I heard was her screaming for me and begging me to protect the baby.”
The doctor laughs wetly, his laugh sounding more like a sob. “The baby was already dead though! She had already died from renal failure. They had been feeding us images of another baby to fool us!” The man’s voice cracked.
“I asked God to let me die, but the thought that my wife might still be alive is what stopped me. So I worked for her and a future where we could walk free of this fucked up place. Lo and behold, my prayers have been answered. The Walrider escaped, and Blaire is missing.”
The doctor wipes his face and you watch as he touches a cross underneath his shirt. “Tell me Waylon, your report was written by a nurse O’hara. Did you ever see her?”
You sort through your memories and try to recall anyone with the name. All you can remember is a cheerful voice that wanted what was best for you. “Is she your wife?”
The doctor smiles somberly with a hint of longing. “Yes. We went with separate names to avoid any conflict. Her maiden name was O’hara but our shared name was Samul.”
(--)
You and the doctor spent a long time talking. He seemed almost happy to relieve himself of all the nightmares he had committed to a listening party. You were surprised no one had come to interrupt him but as the time drew on, it stayed silent. Once the doctor was done he offered you a choice. “Waylon, you don’t have to go through with this. I’ve done procedures before, quick and simple. It was something Blaire asked of us to try to preserve the fetuses.”
“ Do it . ”
The doctor nods with a grim look on his face. “I can’t do the procedure here, but the asylum has a hospital wing. There, they have all the tools I need. We can also see if Faith is still there or if I can find what’s left of her.” You feel your resolve strengthen as Doctor Samul pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket.
You were going to do this. You could be carrying the next generation of The Walrider and you didn’t want to give birth to a monster. You doing this was for the greater good of humanity, but damn Murkoff for putting you in this situation. You should have never taken this job, you should have just listened to Lisa and become tech support for that university.
You grip the blanket around your shoulders tightly. “I’m ready. How do we get there?”
Doctor Samul holds up the sheet with a crudely drawn map on it. The paper has bloody fingerprints but you can still make sense of the drawings. “The quickest route would be through the courtyard but there a several hoodlums that would make the journey difficult.”
You gesture for the paper and the doctor gladly hands it over. “We’re going to have to go through the Vocation block. The courtyard is blocked off.” You utter with horror.
The doctor tilts his head and looks at the paper. “What do you mean? Why do you look terrified?”
“There’s a-a patient called Gluskin there-”
“We know ‘im.”
Both of you look at the door, surprised to see James and Mira standing with bobby pins in their hands. “You took too long Doctor and we got worried.”
The two drop their tools onto the cold ground. “Gluskin is The Groom and Waylon’s been named The Bride. The Groom’s out for blood since the Bride’s gone missing.”
Mira steps in the room and James follows after him. “Doctor, you should ditch the baggage. He’s going to get you killed.”
Mira crosses his arms against his chest and glares at you. “First you seduce the creep and now you’re having his kid? What are you, a whore?”
Doctor Samul grabs Mira and shakes the boy, but the damage has been done. “What has gotten into you Mira?” You freeze as Mira’s golden eyes stares into your very being.
“You’re going to get us killed Bride. The doctor has saved us from the machines and if you think you can just take him from us-!” Doctor Samul drags the boy outside the room, berating him the whole way.
The room falls silent and you make eye contact with James. The teen was looking at you without the maliciousness of his brother had. His gaze was almost curious in its assessment and you notice how red his hair was compared to his skin. The boy closes his eyes and smiles.“Mira’s right, but if anyone is going to make it out, it's going you. You were the one who sent the email right? The one that put Murkoff back on the map.”
You silently agree and the teen laughs, running a hand through his curly hair. His cheeks fill with color and you can’t help but notice how young he looks. “Of course it’s going to be you! We were all doomed to die! How would we ever survive outside of this place? The fuck ups and the freaks?”
You reach out to try to comfort the kid when a loud thump makes you both jump, followed by a blood curdling scream. You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in fear. “Did you hear that? That sounded like Mira!” His eyes flare a bright blood red as he rushes to the hallway.
“James- wait! Dammit!” You limp out after him and watch as he runs towards the source of the noise.
The boy pays you no heed as he disappears into the darkness, his movements jerky and uncoordinated in his panic. “Fuck!” You yank the blanket away from your shoulders and follow after James’ footsteps, afraid of what you might find.
You failed to notice the set of glowing eyes watching your every step.