Raised By Wolves

Chapter Twenty Two | All for Show

Months, weeks or days - Caleb had no idea how long he had been wherever he actually was. His mind replayed the few short visits he'd had from May, yet they weren't visits at all; more like hallucinations that tormented him more than any of his actual visitors could. Then again, to have her here with him would be even worse so he let himself cling to those moments as right now, they were all he had. Sure the shackles were gone, the hospital possibly part of those dreams too, but what he had been left with wasn't any better.

A solid metal door with a glass screen separated him from the masked people in white coats that walked past every ten minutes or so, always looking at him, always watching. Just like the tiny black camera in the corner of his cell. Pale concrete walls made up the three other sides of the square and the floor was tiled the same as the roof making him feel claustrophobic. The bed was simply a metal bar attached to one side with a thin foam topper that did nothing to stop the cold coming through and a blanket that only made Caleb itch.

His clothes were gone, and in their place was a white hospital gown. Despite the way irritated him, he had little choice other than to sit on the blanket and as he slowly opened his eyes, his stomach dropped as one the walkers didn't keep walking. The burn on his stomach still throbbed, a reminder of the last visit that had him tasered again when he tried to attack. He'd learnt his lesson. The fact his wounds from the accident weren't visible anymore was misleading as his body was still sore and beaten. No matter how he tried to force himself to do it - he couldn't shift to heal as he needed to do and so these monsters would always win when ever he fought them.

He knew that had to be part of their plan.

Two guards appeared behind the white coat, their black uniform identical to the ones who taken him had worn and it only confirmed he wasn't going to like what was about to happen - again. Sure enough, the door slid open and he didn't move. The guards came in first, the thud of their boots in perfect sync as the stopped either corner of his bed. This was the one that smelled like coffee and a chemical heavy perfume that reminded him of the handwash at May's grandmother's house. The woman meant to two things, cold hands and blood samples. Right on cue another white coat came in, holding a small metal tray with an assortment of tubes and needles. This one smelled like leather polish, the shiny boots she had one probably the reason why.

"Extend your right arm." The voice was distorted slightly, probably why they had to wear the masks. Did they really think that would protect their identity? Caleb didn't move. "Extend your right arm or it will be extended for you."

The growl was automatic, his eyes narrowing on the space behind the visor where this woman's eyes would be - daring her to do it. All they seemed to do is take swabs and samples, like the last lot hadn't been enough. This time Caleb was going to be smart about his attack, calculating the space between him and door. He just needed to look at what was in the corridor - an office, lab or maybe more cells. He never heard any others, never saw any either, but he thought it important to know. A clock or window would be appreciated too; maybe they'd have a calendar hanging outside the door to give him some sense of time, though he really doubted it. Everything was too sterile and hospital like for something as homely as a calendar to be hanging on the wall.

The guard to his right shifted slightly, tensing as he prepared to do as the white coat wanted. It was barely a nod as she picked up a needle from the tray. While she was distracted with that, the guard made his move - going for Caleb's arm as the other went to push on his sore shoulder. So, he let the guard grab his arm, because his left hand went for the black handle he prayed would be a gun strapped to his belt and putting all his energy and strength into the action, into getting it, found it wasn't a gun but his enemy, the taser.

Not thinking he pulled the trigger, making the guard let his arm go as that tick tick of electricity sent a chill down Caleb's back. As though he was dancing, the guard swayed in his boots, his body spasming from the charge that wasn't stopping. Falling backwards, he tripped the second white coat and dropping the device by the tray and tubes at his feet, Caleb's good hand swung around to block the other guard as he moved to punch him. His left hand came up and as the guard went to stop him, Caleb instead kicked, sending him backwards into the wall while the cold handed white coat bolted for the door.