067. [dottore x male reader.]

13. white chamber.

 "you read those, didn't you, 067?" zandice asked you. his voice raised itself in pitch and his eyes narrowed. he flipped through the pages at a decent pace, "i have to tell doctor about this, you know that, right?"

  "i didn't read anything," you're lying through your teeth and you knew it. you just had to convince him of that. you just had to play pretend with everything until you could get yourself moved up, again. playing around with zandik shouldn't be too hard, now should it?

there was a slight flaw with them all doing their "best" to restore your brain's full functions; and that was the fact that you could think for yourself. you can form your own opinions, disobey whenever you felt like it- you could do your own things, now. you didn't necessarily have to rely on zandik or on anyone else.

deep down, you still missed zandik being near you. you're just so ... so angry over everything that he did. you should have known that he was playing you like a cheap pawn; but you were too stupid to notice. you were too stupid to notice his swift changes in behavior to get a reaction out of you. and now here you are, having learned too much, missing the person that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into. 

  "then why are the pages bent? quickly, 067," zandice snapped his fingers in front of your face. he didn't seem to care that it startled you, but it did snap you out of your thoughts, thankfully.

  "how would i know? you left it, zandice," you spoke between bites of the cheaply made meal. it tastes oddly rubbery, but after consuming blood for days straight, how could you really complain about how human food tasted?

  "hm, i still have to tell him," zandice drew out a long sigh a he pressed the wooden clipboard to his chest. you just knew you weren't going to see anything similar to that clipboard again for a long time.

  "what'll happen when he finds out?" 

  "depends on his mood, and if he buys that you didn't 'read anything'," zandice spoke, putting "read anything" in air quotes with his fingers, "he'll most likely move you into another chamber, one that has more security than the rest, it's what he did with the- ... i shouldn't say." 

you squinted your eyes as he caught himself, but, a chamber with ... "more security than the rest?" a chamber that's like a prison? you read about prisons in one of the stories you read with zandice, a while ago. they were awfully similar to this place; only the chambers became cells, the food became bug infested meat, the beds became cots - which you had at one point, and the "patients" became prisoners. funny, isn't it?

you're a prisoner to zandik. a prisoner whose heart actually yearns for him. a prisoner who ... might be in love with their guard? love's a funny thing. the only times you had ever seen it or seen people "in it" were your parents. the two of them were so deeply fascinated by each other, always listened to one another, helped each other with tasks . . .

which is a lot like what you do with zandik, is it not? you helped him collei. he listened to you when you had spoke to him about zander. he was so fascinated with you that he lied to you, in order to get results. he lied to you and kept secrets from you for results, yes, but he did the exact same things that your parents had once done when they were in "love." your father lied to your mother all the time: about where he's been, who he's been there with, what he does for work, so on. just like how dottore lied to you. 

your mom once put up with it, so you can too. 

zandice was right about the new chamber arrangements. the walls were a pure shade of bright white that hurt your eyes, the floor was stone cold and the bed you once had?  gone. everything was taken away from you, they striped you of everything. the books, the desk, the comforting lightning, again. there was a strange device in the upper corners in the room pointed downwards. they're also bright white, with a red flashing light that would flash every so few seconds. they also made small "beep" sounds each time they turned. 

zandice still visited you, though it wasn't ... really a visit. it's more of an arrangement. he asks you questions, you get blood. you ask questions, you get nothing. he gives you medicine and runs tests on you, you get nothing. it's a very shitty arrangement, but it's what you have to deal, ever since you read those reports. 

you still never saw zandik, until now that is. 

  "my sweet! hello," zandik called out to you as he took a seat in front of you. he crossed his legs over each other as he rested his masked face on his knuckles, "i'm sorry i haven't came to see you in so long, i was tying up loose ends." 

  "what loose ends, dottore?" your brows raised at he mentioned the loose ends. you weren't quite sure as to why he suddenly showed up in front of you, but you knew that he seemed ... taken aback by your "sudden" ability to speak well. 

  "i see zandice was right about your progress, that's good, doll," zandik flashed a quick small smile your way, "and i was dealing with zander. though." 

he began to talk with his voice lowering in pitch as he did, "i was told you were acting out, disobeying zandice."

   "i would never disobey anyone," you responded quickly .... a little too quickly. 

   "you wouldn't? tell me then, my doll, what blood did you first drink?"

   "normal human blood..?" your voice lifted in a more 'question-y' tone as you spoke. you didn't realize at first that you, basically, snitched on yourself. you were too blinded by the names: "my sweet", "doll", "my doll." your cheeks had flushed out in a shade of red, of course.

   "'normal human blood', my sweet boy? so," zandik placed one of his hands in front of you, "you did read the reports. here's what's going to happen-"

  "no. here's what's actually going to happen," you cut him off. you're so infuriated with all of the lies he spewed to you, and now he wanted to continue playing into them? your mother had gotten mad at your father each time he yelled, as well, this was normal between loved ones, you were sure of it. you just have to be confident, "you're going to kick me out of this place and back home."

  "you want to go home, 067?" there it was. that fucking number. you had gotten so used to him calling you sweet names, that it hurt you. it infuriated you. you're mad at him, but you love him. you're mad at him, but you want to be called those sweet names. 

  "why the fuck would i let you go home? what're you going to do? bite me again?" his words were laced with poison as his hand brought itself to your face. you began bracing yourself to get hit, 

but the blow never came.