Upheaving Crooked Orchards

Part Three

   Michael spent most of his evenings sitting on his bed watching the guards go by, wondering if the testing would stop. It'd been a few months, but every week, Kavell would hook him to the machine, sparking random areas on his body; his legs, arms, torso, and sometimes his neck. His arms began to bruise from the constant shocks and he noticed his muscles would sometimes have fits of unmanageable twitching. He approached his door when he heard a scream. One of the nurses was yelling at a patient--quite common for Smith's Grove. The patient he was yelling at was trying to bite his arm.

  "You're not gonna inject me, I know what you guys do!" The patient screamed in a frantic tone.

  Michael pressed his face to the glass on his door, something about this encounter intrigued him. The patient was short, stocky and seemed to be full of energy. The nurse was of a lighter build but still held out a needle, trying to stick his patient with it. The short man ran and jumped on the nurse, biting his shoulder and cheek. The guards were alerted and the other inmates backed away from the scene. Blood sprayed from the nurse's cheek and onto the wall. The men in the black vests ran over and knocked the patient off the nurse. The inmate spit the chunk of flesh at their faces. Michael couldn't hear over the yelling, but he briefly caught wind of the nurse ordering the guards to take the short man to "the room". After that, the other inmates whispered amongst themselves about what this room did. They knew patients that went in come out different. Michael had a feeling the people who go into that room lose their minds and were the ones that were  branded with purple bruises. There was a pattern he picked up where everyone who has the dark rings at their eyes seemed to be lifeless. 

..

  Michael was now twenty-one. His hair had fully turned dark brown and more curled than when he was a child. He was now taller than most of the doctors. He had a muscular frame, albeit still a little thin. It seemed that every two days after his birthday, Kavell would send him to be electrocuted. The bruises had no time to heal and his heart couldn't keep up with the pace of the appointments. He added new wires to Michael's body--for a minute, Kavell forgot to remind Michael to try and respond. He could never get used to the feeling of his muscles locking and the pain, but he was still unable to scream. Once he was done with today's session and was headed back to his room, he heard Kavell talking to another nurse.

  "We're getting close, Myers is about to break." Kavell  whispered.

  Michael was escorted--dragged--back to his room. He collapsed on the floor and listened to the guards outside.

  "Won't be long before Myers is a dead man." One said.

  The other chuckled, "Yeah, he's pretty much a walking corpse now."

  Michael lied on his side on the cold floor. He made sure no one was nearby before cupping his hands to his face and curling up, breathing heavy and trying to take in the damage. He stood up and stumbled towards a trash can in the corner of his room. He propped himself against the wall and tensed as vomit shot out of his mouth. The staff didn't know it, but Kavell gave Michael a set of pills-- one to induce aggression, one to induce panic, and the other to induce hallucinations. Kavell was desperate for Michael to show any bit of emotion, but the pills had no effect on him, aside from him feeling sick. He walked with sluggish motion back to the center of the room and sat down, his back facing the door. He put his arms around his long legs and rested his head between his knees and belly. A patient came in front of the door, exploring the ward to see who was in each room. He was in a wheelchair and had large glasses. He watched as Michael tucked himself closer to his own body, as if to keep the injured areas safe from more harm. The patient felt bad as he saw the burns and bruises--the cuts and scrapes all along his neck and exposed arms. 

  "Move, Lenard." A guard ordered, grabbed the patient's wheelchair and shoved it aside.

  The guard banged on Michael's door, shaking it in its hinges.

  "Myers! Kavell wants you." The guard shouted before opening the door.

  Michael turned around--didn't they just get through with a session? The guard came in, lifted Michael to his feet and dragged him back to Kavell's testing room. Michael's stomach filled with dread as he saw the bright lights. The smell made him sick and he wanted to go back to his room.

  "Michael," Kavell turned to look at the tall man, "we almost had a breakthrough, didn't we? I can feel it."

  Michael didn't make any sudden movements but was guided back to the table where he lied and awaited for the doctor. Kavell came over and stuck the patches back on his body. Michael couldn't tell if the metal was cold or hot, it just stung his body as it made contact. He put one on his left temple, unaware of how close it was to his eye socket. 

  "You see, I've been at this for fifteen years, this machine is the only thing that I truly believe in that'll make you talk. You seem to hate it."

   Kavell walked over to a tray and grabbed a few needles and a scalpel. One needle was filled with clear liquid, Kavell mentioned that it was the same stuff that'd keep him awake, he muttered that the other needles would allow his nerves to receive pain signals at a higher degree. He injected Michael's arms and cut an area on his right forearm with the scalpel, to which he placed another electric patch over it. 

  "I want you," Kavell paused, walking over to his machine, "to respond to me."