Catharsis

TWENTY TWO

"Your virus has progressed enough for me to take a biopsy," Kaman says as he brushes his palms together and eagerly bites his lip. Kneeling down, he grabs my mutated hand.

"You don't need all of your fingers, do you? As a human," he draws out the word in a mocking tone. "I'm sure you don't want fingers like this."

My heart jumps clear up into my throat.

"First, let's test your pain threshold." He reaches into the pocket of his scrubs then jabs something straight into the palm of my hand. A shot of pain shudders up my arm and I scream hysterically but it's the sickly, feeble kind of scream that barely comes out.

"The nerves must be integrated by now." He says. I look down to the long blade of a serrated knife dug into my black flesh.

I cringe and flex my fingers, still mobile at least. "Fuck you!"

When he draws the knife out of the bloody mess, I raise my arm to strike. He's already a step ahead of me and pushes the blade against the side of my neck. I freeze.

"Don't even try it," he says, face glowing with euphoria. "And stop whining. You'll heal. An amputation, though? I'm not sure if you'll recover from that. Maybe we should test it out."

He grabs my forearm and jerks me downward as he pins it to the floor with his knee. My quivering strengthens until I shake violently and my jaw clenches so firmly my teeth might just break off. I try to pull my arm out, but he's too big and I'm too weak. His gloved hand forces my fingers to straighten as if he was arranging them on a cutting board.

"Don't do this, man, please. I'm begging you." But he only smiles and places his hand on my middle finger.

"Stop!" I try to get my knees up under me to get some leverage, but there's no slack on my arm.

Out of nowhere, a desperate, high-pitched scream rings out.

Kaman pauses for a moment before jumping up off of my arm. He rushes out the door, locking it securely behind him. Rubbing at the bruises on my arm, I sit up and train my ears on the room next to mine.

Creak. The door adjacent to mine opens. Their voices are in hushed whispers but I can make them out easily as they come through the vent in the wall.

"What do you think you're doing, Emma?" Kaman says, clearly aggravated. "You're interrupting my work!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But don't you think you should wait before you amputate anything?" Her voice is not at all like the one I just heard. She sounds apologetic, innocent. This must be the act she puts on for him: the complete opposite of the brave face I'm trying to put on.

"Why would I wait to amputate? It's imperative that I test the healing capabilities -"

"Yes, but maybe it would be better to take it off his Alternate Form? That way the sample would be pure, completely transformed."

"Oh-ho-ho," Kaman fakes a laugh. "Are you trying to save him?"

"No, no I'm not." Her voice is frail. "Why would I do that?"

"You're too compassionate toward animals," Kaman says. A strange sound: like something being poured on the floor. Sand? Rice? "Get on your knees!" He demands. "And you better be there when I get back!"

The walls shudder when he slams and locks her door. No more sound comes through from the other side of the wall.

"Come on, Aaron." A gravely voice says. I turn my head from the vent to the doorway where Kaman is beckoning me. "Hurry up, c'mon."