Sometimes life changes for no reason. The interesting thing is whether these changes are good or bad.
Does waking up in an unknown world with many people who develop a crush on you count as a nice thing?
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You feel dizzy and your soul feels like it wants to leave your body. It is hard to think straight. Seems like the drugs Dottore put into your body are still active. Merely thinking about that psychopath makes you want to throw up. What kind of atrocities will he do to you today? You don’t want to even think about it.
Since you lack the energy to face reality, you keep your eyes closed and stay quiet. If that madman wants something from you, he will just tell you so. He is able to hear if someone is awake or not after all. Right now it seems like if he is not working at least as it is nicely quiet in this room.
Time passes and nothing happens. Odd. Is Dottore even here? Hesitantly, you open up your eyes and there you see… no cage? It’s not only that the cage is missing – the whole room is different. It is spacious, but almost completely empty, having closer resemblance to a fancy round hall than a room or a laboratory. For what do you even need a room like this? And more importantly: Why is there a gigantic robot-like thing only a couple of meters away from you? Its style doesn’t look Sumerian, but rather…
“Good evening, puppy.”
How long has it been since you heard that voice? Not long enough, that’s for sure. On the other hand though… This means you don’t have to suffer any of Dottore’s cruel experiments anymore. Great… “Scaramouche.”
“Good, your brain still seems to work.” The arms of the gigantic robot move towards you and scoop you up a lot more gentle than one would expect from such big mechanical extremities, especially considering the one in control of them.
While the puppet does so, a blanket slips down your shoulders. You haven’t even noticed it wrapped around you till now. Since it is soft and warm you wrap it back around your body. Remaining silent, you simply stare at the robot who is holding you at his upper chest height. Is this how small animals feel when humans hold them in their hands?
“Got nothing to say?”
“I thought I maybe should let you go first, so that – you know – I don’t interrupt you or anything.”
“Since when were you so ‘thoughtful’? As far as I know you, you prefer to poke the bear in the cage with a stick at every opportunity.”
“Maybe. But right now, I don’t feel like it. I am far too calm and equable for that.” Closing your eyes, you listen to your heartbeat. It is nicely even.
“Calm? Out of all the emotions you could be feeling in this moment, you are feeling calm?” In this form he lacks a proper face to express his feelings but you can hear the genuine surprise out of his voice.
“I could even go as far as saying that I am happy to see you.”
“Have you lost your mind?!”
How unfortunate that you can’t see his normal face right now. Instead, you can only imagine his bewildered expression from hearing your words. A subtle smile creeps on your lips. “No- I mean, probably not. The main reason is that someone else has set a new record for ‘worst person to be around’. Being around you is almost like a vacation.”
“…What did Dottore do to you?”
“Something in the name of ‘science’, more commonly referred to as torture.” To prove your point, you put up your damaged arm and hand. Strange. Why did Dottore bother to bandage your entire arms instead of just one finger and a patch on your upper arm? Out of curiosity, you loosen the bandage around your left wrist to see what’s underneath it. Your flesh there is pinkish red, as if somebody poured acid over it or something like that. You don’t recall that he did anything like that though… Not convinced that the wound is real, you caress the skin in question. Nothing. The pain that should come from touching a wound doesn’t come at all, so you apply more pressure. The bizarreness of this sensation-lacking circumstance is almost hypnotizing.
“Stop doing that.”
You immediately obey.
Scaramouche lets out a frustrated sigh. “This at least explains your friendly behavior. The Doctor gave you a high dosage of painkillers which are probably not only numbing your body, but also your mind. Not the worst move…”
Tilting your head, you stare at the robot. “What do you mean by the last part?”
“He was provocative enough to use you for his experiments, so he took uncharacteristically good care of your physical state to not infuriate me beyond reason.”
“But why would you even care? You too hurt me in the past…”
“Just because I do it doesn’t mean that he has the right to it as well. Only I am allowed to use violence in order to reprimand you, got it?” Not waiting for your answer, he uses one of his huge robot arms to take the blanket that has fallen off your shoulders to wrap you back in it.
Your expression becomes confused at his kind gesture. “You said that I am oddly friendly, but you are rather nice too. Can I ask why?”
Scaramouche takes his time to think about your question, but answers after what felt like an eternity. “Quite simple.” He gently pets your head with his thump that is bigger than you by itself. “I finally have my dear puppy back for it to become my very first faithful believer.”
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