Operation 007 (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 21: Part Two

The hallways were darker than usual. Extinguished lights, failing to lift shadows that crept at every surface. The heavy metal doors creaked ominously, though they weren't moving. It was the sole thing Anya heard as it traveled up and down the hallway like a ghost, reticent to leave.

She remained still in the middle of the never ending corridor, unsure of how she knew it's length when her vision was obscured by the blackness. A blackness that clawed and grasped at her, that bathed her in its' vile touch.

She couldn't stay here, she knew. This wasn't a place she wanted to be. How did she get here? Why couldn't she think clearly?

Anya inched forward cautiously and held herself against the cold lurking towards her. It didn't breathe it's chill on her skin, but she knew it was there. Could feel it in anticipation. A phantom of a wail sounded in the distance. A memory she couldn't remember. Something of pain and exhaustion. It ran her blood frozen and she knew it should scare and seize her with anxiety. Another cried out somewhere else, and another. Echoes of past terrors, she inexplicably knew had kept her up at night.

A thundering crack electrified the air and she jumped back with a gasp. Tremors danced from it, and walls rumbled from the reverberations that couldn't seem to fade. A deafening whack that made her sick to her stomach. It slammed into the floor again, vibrations rippling through her. It struck just out of reach, infused with anger and intimidation. She jolted away as goosebumps sprouted from the unsettling familiarity.

She strained to make out the source, deep in the shadows. A faint outline of a man engulfed in it. An impression that he was one with the murk and gloom, rather than a separate entity.

Anya couldn't see what he held in his hand, but she knew what it was.

No.

She thought, clarity of where she was, dawning. Of what was happening. A fog lifting from her mind.

No, she couldn't be back here!

She started to cry.

The man raised his hand. The invisible weapon, ripping the air in fluid motions. A terrifying crackle, slapped and resonated, that was louder than should be possible.

The single attack tore several gashes in her all at once, though it never touched her. It rammed into her all the same, sending her reeling. Brutal digs catching in her skin that radiated pain and fire. She couldn't scream as she fell on her back to the cold floor, unable to get up. Swallowed in nothingness that disoriented her. Couldn't speak, couldn't cry, couldn't make a sound.

The shrieks and groaning metal in the background, dwindled and she was left in a void of silence and darkness.

She wanted to cry out for her parents to come for her, to rescue her, but couldn't vocalize it.

Would they come? Isn't that what happened last time? Or did she never leave? Had she been here the whole time? Had her life outside the lab been a dream?

Anya's tears came thicker, trickling down her cheeks. She didn't want to believe it was true. She didn't want to believe her entire life was this oppressive gloom that choked and constrained her. The stretching void, all she knew, all she was aware of.

And then a soft buzz lit up her senses, dispelling the perceived vacuity she dwelled in. It lessened the intense quiet to replace it with building unease.

It grew louder, coming to hover over her.

There was a 'kachunk' as blinding brightness spilled over her. A great, big surgical light throwing her into new surroundings and dissipating the void.

Anya shut her eyes against it and it wasn't enough. The whiteness piercing through her eye-lids, painting them red. She would've used a hand to shield them, but they wouldn't budge. They were strapped to a metal surface that was slippery smooth. The restraints attached to it, tighter than she remembered. Tougher. More difficult to struggle against. Her body, having a harder and harder time working against them.

Her eyes remained closed to the space around her, but she heard the voices moving about. Voices in discussion and consultation, writing on clipboards and fumbling with tools.

She was afraid to look in response, knowing who they were. Afraid to see the utensils that rattled and clanked. That cut and poked and drilled and did things that should never be done. She heard one whir as if on cue. Felt a doctor pluck it from non-existence, the bit, rotating faster and faster. She couldn't help but look at it.

No. Anya choked.

This had already happened. They didn't need to do it again. Not again! Not again! Not again! She opened her mouth and nothing came out. She tried to scream and curse, but nothing came out.

Someone touched her head and she couldn't shake it off. A band over her forehead prohibited the movement.

The scientist walked forward as he raised the drill to her skull. Anya found her voice then, and cried out as it burrowed into her scalp. The grating of bone was all she could hear. It felt an eternity before it was withdrawn, but it had to have only been an instant. The blood ran down her head and he was somehow already on her other side, plunging the machine into her cranium again.

The pain was weird. It was worse than before, and also dulled. It was too much to handle, but also bearable. When it stopped, the drill disappeared just as easily as it was procured. The scientist suddenly held two, thin, sharp spikes that Anya recognized immediately. They looked similar to a nail if the head was a half inch thicker and an inch wide.

Anya stopped breathing at the sight of them.

The doctor smiled evilly and raised it, as if to stab it recklessly into her brain.

Anya could only watch as it swooped down towards her.

—————

Becky had never seen someone cry in their sleep before. She was accustomed to Anya taking a nap in class, but this was new. She watched the tears leak over the side of Anya's nose, and soak into her arms that she used as a pillow. Her face scrunched in reaction to the nightmare she was probably having as she repeatedly tensed.

Becky glanced at the professor who was facing the chalkboard, and back to Anya.She reached out and lightly tapped her friend's arm.

No response.

Becky then took gentle hold of her shoulder and before she could nudge her awake, Anya gasped and bolted upright.

Becky flinched away as the force of Anya's jolt, rammed her into the back of her seat. She gripped the edge of it, breathing heavily, eyes shaky and unfocused. Her head whipped around in confused terror, identifying her surroundings.

"Miss Forger." Professor Henderson called her gaze to him and her sight latched onto his. "Are you quite alright?" He asked her. His face was an unreadable mask, though he didn't sound upset she had disturbed his class.

Anya, in her alarmed state, didn't answer right away. Only stared like a deer caught in headlights.

The room was eerily quiet as the professor waited for an answer. As Anya gradually calmed enough to understand what was happening and for her heart to slow. As if being brought back into herself, she blinked and turned to glance at Becky who worriedly watched on.

Anya turned back to the teacher and nodded in answer, though she very much did not look it. She was pale and wide-eyed. Tears still wet her face that she quickly erased when she realized they were there. She looked utterly spooked, and Becky didn't know how to help except take Anya's hand in her's.