Yes, I am crazy

Chapter 26 - The mimer?

Samantha's POV

Again?

"Who are you?" I asked, tentatively as I got my first look on the man. He appeared to be in his early forties, bald and with watery eyes. I didn't like him, nor the grin plastered on his face. Glasses covered his greedy eyes, and wearing a lab coat, he looked every bit the doctor he seemed to be.

"My, my," he started, wearing a faked look of hurt. "You don't remember me?"

I squinted my eyes and considered him closer. A small recollection of memories suddenly hit me and I smiled. "Well, now that you ask. Aren't you that guy who mimed on the street two years ago, accidentally locking himself up in an invisible room? Yeah! Roderick, was it? Man, you haven't changed a bit."

Roderick looked unimpressed, and stared at me from under his giant glasses like trying to solve a puzzle. For a moment he just stood there, and I waited for him to move or answer me. The silence wad starting to get awkward.

"My name is not Roderick." When he finally spoke again, it was with an annoyed and slightly bitter voice that he utterly failed to hide, though I could see him trying to.

I frowned, "Well, I've never been that good with names. Peter?"

He scowled.

"No, no, I know!" I smiled big. "It's Pike!"

He didn't answer me, looking a little confused now.

I smiled wider. "It is, ain't it? Ha! I'm awesome." I smiled to myself. Yeah, I really am fabulous.

Pike clenched his jaw in anger and spoke through his teeth. "I am not a mimer and my name is not Roderick, Peter or Pike."

I winked at him, "Sure it ain't."

For a moment, it almost looked like he was about to stamp his foot and whine in protest, but he seemed to stop himself right on time, fuming.

"Since you can't seem to remember, let me fresh up your memory for you." The doc - who's name, though he keeps denying it, is totally Nike - suddenly smiled malevolent and turned away from me, facing the table of needles and vials.

'Sam, I'm sorry,' Sarah said quickly as soon as Nike's back was turned, and I frowned.

"What for?" I asked in a cheery voice, one that Sarah didn't copy.

'I'm sorry,' she repeated and I started to worry a little. Nike took up a needle and inspected it closer. I think he sniffed it.

"What is that?" I was starting to panic, but she still wouldn't answer me. I could feel her apology in my head as the doc once again faced me, this time armed with the filled needle.

Slowly, he approached me, as if wanting to soak up the moment of victory in full. He looked about ready to laugh that villanous cackle bad people do in movies, but settled instead with a big smile.

Now, I know to some degree what is taking place; I'm not an idiot. I've been kidnapped by significantly worse people than Hunter's gang, and this was way more personal. The fact that they seemed to know me, but I not them made me even more concerned. Despite all this, the thing that made me worry for real was Sarah's sudden apologies and revelations. Something bad was, and had, definitely taken place, and judging by the crazy doc's words, I was about to find out what. 

Keeping my eyes on the needle, I didn't have to refrain myself from trashing around, instead feeling a familiar paralyzation that came with my fear of needles.

I don't remember when the fear started, but thinking about it closer, it seemed like it had just popped out of nowhere. I had an inkling of why, now. Well, you learn something new every day.