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An eight foot tall, African man finds himself in a mental institution and he can't remember why.

CHAPTER 1

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            He filled the cramped space of the examination room.  The giant’s frame overtook the table.  His legs stretched out across the room and his bare feet were inches from the glass wall in front of him.  Ceiling panels scraped the top of his head and released white powder onto his dark skin like stars in a night sky. 

            The giant placed his massive hands flat on the table, palms facing down.  They covered a third of the table.  He noticed the long, spindly fingers, the crooked knuckles, and the deep scars that intersected like patches stitched together.  He touched his face, but it was numb.

There was a series of numbers on his left forearm, 42057810 etched into the skin that he didn’t recognize.  Lines and ridged welts went all the way up his arms.  The giant traced those scars with one of his fingers until it reached under his polyester t-shirt toward his breastbone.  He returned his hand to the table and resumed his concentration on the table which provided no answers.

            “Who am I?”  He whispered to the table.  The young woman looked down at a clipboard. Her long, raven hair slid down, obscuring her face slightly.  The giant knew this woman.  Her name was Mina Stratham.  He remembered her from yesterday.  She looked up from the clipboard at the giant and smiled warmly with a slight nervous twitch. 

“Hello again, Genetica.  I hope you slept well.”  She sat in front of a glass wall and cleared her throat over the microphone.  “You have been recommended for a university drug study.  It is my job to ensure your safety and assess the effects of the drug.” A small, red light appeared on the base of the giant’s microphone.  Mina returned to the clipboard.

              “Genetica…I have some…general questions to ask you.” 

            Genetica tried to smile back at her, but Mina was not reciprocating.  He looked at the table again.  Why was she avoiding him?  His fingers fidgeted underneath the table.

            “How are you feeling today?”  The red light on the microphone stared up at him accusingly.  Slowly, he pushed down on the button.

            “Well.”  Genetica said in bellowing voice. 

            “Good, good.  Did you eat or drink anything, knowing full well that this interferes with the overall effectiveness of the drug?”

            “No.”

            “Good.”

            “Any migraines or muscle aches?  Shortness of breath?  Anything out of the ordinary that we should know about before beginning the study?”

            “No.” 

            “O-kay.  Mina sighed heavily into the mike.  “So here’s how this works.  You’re going to be given an injection directly into your bloodstream.  It’s very brief, completely painless.  The drug should take effect immediately and we’ll be able to assess how you react.”

            A door behind Genetica opened to reveal two more men in white uniforms.  One held a syringe, while the other carried alcohol swabs.  A swab was wiped over Genetica’s right arm. 

            “Are we ready?” Mina asked.  The man with the syringe nodded carefully.  Mina hesitated for a moment.  She held her mouth open as if she had something trapped in her throat.

            “Okay…proceed.”  The man with the syringe flicked the needle and held in a small cloth as he aimed it for Genetica’s arm. 

            “Don’t make any sudden movements.”  The man with the syringe said.  The needle went through the skin, but Genetica couldn’t feel it.  It lingered for a moment as the plunger was slowly pushed down, injecting a murky pink liquid that was flecked with orange and smelled like burning plastic.  As soon as the needle came out of the skin, the hole left behind sealed over instantly with fresh skin.  The eyes of the man who had delivered the injection widened in fear.  Mina motioned for the two men to leave.  Genetica saw their panicked expressions as they slammed the door behind them.

            Genetica awaited the drug’s inevitable effect.  Thirty restless seconds passed; he eyed Mina, who smiled uneasily back at him.  He couldn’t help but wonder who was responsible for this.  Another sigh came from the microphone. 

            “Let’s move away from the physical for a moment.  Have you had any dreams or nightmares that have affected you recently, anything you can’t explain?” 

              The mention of dreams and nightmares piqued Genetica’s curiosity like a child piecing together new information.  Mina noticed.

            “Genetica?  Can you speak to that?”

            An intense rush entered his mind at that moment.  He narrowed his eyes and held his mouth open in deep thought.  He had had nightmares recently.  Some images were sad while others were gruesome, but he had no idea what they meant.  There was no emotional tether.  He could not understand why. 

            “Genetica?  Genetica, can you hear me?”

            “I-I don’t know.”  He said in frustration.  I don’t know!”   

The door to the other room swung open and in stepped a thin, middle-aged man with wooly kinked salt and pepper hair.  He wore an elegantly tailored navy, blue suit.  The door shut and he strode toward the table where Mina sat.  The man placed one hand on the table and the other on the microphone.  He kept his head turned away from Genetica; it bobbed fiercely as he talked to Mina.  The intense conversation lasted for several minutes before the man pointed sharply at the door.  Mina slowly got up and walked timidly out the room, leaving only the unknown inquisitor on the other side.

            The man calmly pulled out a pair of rimless glasses from his inside jacket pocket, as well as a small pad of paper and pen.  He unfolded the glasses and placed them on his nose.  The glasses had a faint blue tint about them which intensified two black irises.  His pen moved furiously over the pad of paper.  Minutes went by with nothing but the sight of this man scribbling.  The man’s lenses burned brightly as his writing hand sped through each page.  Every factor and every piece of data was being studied meticulously and with voraciousness.  There was something about this assessor; something Genetica couldn’t bring to consciousness, some sense of attachment.

            The man placed the pen on the table and folded his hands.  His large head lifted to show dark brown, calculating eyes.  Genetica looked carefully at the face of the man; the deep wrinkles across the forehead, the aquiline nose, and the elongated face.  It was a visage he instinctively responded to. 

            “Good Morning, Genetica.  I am Dr. Uruvu Noble.  I apologize for switching personnel around like this, but unfortunately, time is often shared with more than one pursuit for the day.    Rest assured, she will continue to work with you until you are ready.”  Genetica swallowed hard.  Ready for what? 

            Noble smiled, sensing the giant’s uncertainty. 

            “How are you getting along here?”  Genetica continued looking into Noble’s eyes.  He found him odd, but charming.    

            “Your living quarters…do you find them agreeable?”  The giant nodded without hesitation.  Noble scribbled something down on his pad of paper.

            “Well, good.  I understand that it can be unnerving to talk to someone new.  There are too many variables. I could be a very nice man, or I could be a very bad man (since this is part of a drug study, answers may point to the latter).  Yet, I could also be a good man masquerading as a bad person in order to fully understand the way you think and react to external stimuli or negative reinforcement, so that you can be helped.  Or, again, that I am a bad man pretending to be good to better gain your trust; this all some sort of hustle or con.”  Noble took off his glasses and placed them on the table.  “I want to reassure you that I am playing none of those parts, Genetica.  Mina and I are investing in your interests alone.  We don’t wish to gain anything for ourselves for you being here, nor do we wish to be charitable for charity’s sake.  You are an extraordinary individual and our job is to make your life easier.   We are providing an essential service as guides to assist you in…transitioning.  We are your…ambassadors of hope on a goodwill mission for all mankind.” 

Noble smiled again.  With no awareness of anything but the present, Genetica felt drawn toward Noble’s calmness and certainty.  He found himself trusting this man, letting Noble’s voice create his reality without resistance.

Noble leaned forward, speaking in a softer tone.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you?”  Genetica nodded.  “Good, very good.”  Noble leaned in closer to the microphone and spoke in a whisper as if he was telling a dark secret.  “Now, I need to do something that’s going to be very important for us.  I’m going to ask you a series of questions that rank easy to more difficult.  These questions become more difficult because they become more personal.  So I want you to be ready for that.  Just answer honestly, yes?”  Genetica managed a slight smile.  “Alright, do you understand that you are in a mental health institution?”

Genetica held down the button on the microphone. 

“Yes.”

“Do you understand that you are among other mentally ill patients?”

“Yes.”

Noble smiled before asking the next question.

“Do you like the staff here?  Do you like Mina?

“Yes.”

“Did you know before arriving here that this was a drug study?”

“Yes.”

“The questions are about to become more difficult.  Do you know what this drug study is for or what it’s testing?”

Genetica stumbled. 

“N-no.”

“Do you know why you are in this institution?”

“No”

Noble nodded in thought.

“Hmm, do you remember where you came from?”

“No, I don’t know.”  Genetica felt uneasy.

“Do you have a family?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have a name, a real name?”

Genetica’s voice cracked.

“I don’t…know.”

“We’re nearly there.  Does the name Genefra sound familiar to you?”  There was a brief pause.  A warning was in the back of his mind, but then emptiness.

Noble continued.

“Do you realize that you have special abilities, that you have certain…advantages over other people?”

Genetica slammed his hands down on the table.

“I don’t know!”  Genetica stood up with his fists in the air and took out the ceiling above him.  Metal and plaster crashed around him.  He looked down at his feet and realized that his table was in two pieces on the floor.  The door to the other room opened again and Mina walked through it.  She bent down by Noble’s side to whisper to him.  He reacted with consternation by rubbing his sinuses with his thumb and forefinger.  Something wasn’t right. 

Noble motioned for Mina to stay standing as he took his spot at the microphone again.  There was considerably more tension on Noble’s face than there was previously.  Sweat began to appear just under his hairline and one of his hands trembled as it reached to adjust the microphone.  His dark brown eyes widened as if he was staring at a specter on the other side of the glass. 

“I have…one final question for you, Genetica.”  Noble slowly closed and opened his jaw with anxiety. 

“Do you remember me, Dr. Noble?”  The air became still.  Genetica lifted his head and gradually his eyes met with Noble’s.  Their eyes were fixed on one another, ensnared.  “Do you?  Do you know who I am?  What I did for you?” 

Genetica lowered his fists and moved closer to the glass.  His heart rate increased and his breathing became heavier; it fogged the glass of the window.  The questions had tugged on some hidden fear.   He stood at the only barrier separating him from the other room.  Noble lifted his hand and placed his palm on the glass.  He was giving Genetica an invitation

Genetica leaned in closer, his hand within inches of the glass.  At last, his palm came into contact with the smooth surface.  Genetica felt a jolt, as if he was touching the man himself and receiving his life energy.  Both hands remained parallel with one another; they lingered, not wanting the intimate display to end.  Noble and Mina both looked up in wonder. 

Noble’s jacket sleeve fell down to his elbow to reveal a marking that went down the length of his brown left arm.  It was a tattoo that looked like a chameleon with broad, black lines:  the wedge-shaped head lay against Noble’s inner arm, the coiled prehensile tail wrapped around his wrist.  Once Genetica caught sight of the tattoo, a disturbing image of organs and limbs in frosted containers and the smell of blood came to him from somewhere deep down.  He took his hand away and pounded it into the glass.  Immediately, a horizontal line formed all the way across the window.  The sound of screeching glass ripped the air Noble grabbed a phone and spoke frantically into it.

“Get security down here now!” 

Genetica growled as he punched the glass again, this time putting his fist through it.  Noble staggered backwards onto the floor.  The door behind Genetica burst open and seven armed guards rushed him.  Noble screamed into the microphone as the giant threw two of the guards into the adjoining wall. 

“The tasers!  Use the tasers!  But do not use your rifles, I repeat no rifles.”  Upon hearing this, Genetica became infuriated and lunged at the other guards.  Then he saw Mina squatting on the floor in the other room, trying to keep her composure even as her terrified eyes met his.  Genetica felt shame wash over him at the sight of someone in fear of him.  A crippling pain shot through his body.  It felt like acid eating away underneath his skin.  He fell to his knees with a loud thud.

“I’m burning!” He screamed. 

  The guards fired tasers into his back; he screamed in agony.

Slowly, the giant sank further forward, numbed and too weak to fight back.  He looked up again to see Mina, still huddled next to the door and Noble standing resolutely beside her.  More armed guards entered and helped the others drag Genetica outside into the neutral grey hallway.  Forcing him prone, they placed the leather four-point restraints on his wrists and ankles, then tied his hands and feet together behind him.  The image of the chameleon seared his mind at that moment of brutality.  The chameleon jumped off Noble’s arm, rocketed through the punched hole in the glass and darted toward the giant’s face.  He opened his mouth and howled like a beast.  And when he did, the chameleon ran down his throat.  

Author's Note

I would love constructive comments on all aspects of the writing, especially dialogue. But I also want comments on action and description. Thanks.

Reviews

[Chaz Hemsworth]

It's interesting. Really interesting. I'm not sure how the giant remembers some things but not others, so you'll have to elucidate that for us. But you've established a good story here.
Also there is at least one spot with missing quotation marks.