Stationed in a technologically updated castle nestled within the belly of a mountain, retrofitted with vid-coms, access panels on nearly every wall; unable to leave this prison for six months, the atmosphere is tense. I find myself beginning to grow more personal relationships with my fellow captives. Personal relationships are bound to happen in this never-ending solitude, but I have a significant other on the outside, oblivious to the true nature of my extended vacation here in the belly of a mountain. "A research project" is all I can tell him, and so our conversations grow stale. I listen as he tells me of the seasons changing, the friends who miss me, the frequent inquiries as to when I will be returning from my 'sabbatical'. I listen to him telling me of life outside and I long to be there, with the rest of humanity, living instead of existing for the data, the new discovery, the long nights of loneliness. I yearn to tell him of my work; how I finally think I might have found the key, but instead I tell him how they had a small cake for my birthday. "I bought you something, it will be here waiting for you when you get back." I can't get him to spill what this surprise is, and I'm left racking my brain for possibilities. It something to pass the time, to touch on while scrubbing down the lab equipment, or watching the data stream across a com panel.
There's one scientist in particular that has gained more than his fair share of my attention, of my emotions, it's irrefutable this attraction, but so is the voice on the other end of the comlink when I call home. At all costs I will not turn into the sole other female scientist (married) who has decided to survive this extended isolation by beginning a torrid affair with one of the older scientist and having various interludes with one of the young kids straight out of college. I am beginning to feel as if this underground castle is secretly my own personal hell, replete with all the personality traits I loathe amongst my fellow humans, with the only bright spot being my frequent conversations with Mark. I think of him, smiling softly to myself, as I prepare yet another slide to confirm my first battery of tests and hear my personal comlink ring from where it's attached to my hip. I bump my hip against the edge of the table, activating the comlink and answer.
"Hey dollface, can you talk?" It's a voice from the external world, invading my moment of solace and filling my soul. I can't resist the grin spreading across my features.
"Well, I'm actually right in the middle of something, could I call you back?" My voice echoes throughout the lab and I'm grateful I'm alone today.
"Ah yes, important leaps of science must come first. I'll check back with you in about an hour, ok?" I can hear there's something he wants to say, but the slide in front of me will be completely ruined if I don't apply the solution quickly and I sigh.
"One hour, please don't forget, I love you," I whisper before bumping my hip once more to disengage the call. With utter concentration I apply the solution and breathe a sigh of relief as the microscope relays the image to a screen before my face. "Contact you little b*****d." A sadistic smile crossed my features.
Death to microbes is my art, my ultimate joy. Finding the solution that causes the invisible specs of life to shudder in the final throws of death fills me with a sick sense of grandeur. I slide the Petri dish into the incubator, pull my hands from the gloves that let me access the sealed container and quickly run them under the disinfectant. I'm overly cautious, but it's my pattern. The particular microbe held within that box of plastic would kill me in ways that should only be reserved for the lowest levels of Hell, and while all safety procedures were followed to a tee, I still can't wait to slather my appendages in the goop pouring from the container.
The wall panel beside the doorway chimes the tone I set up for my personal "ring tone" throughout the castle. If anyone wants to find me, the wall panels produce one of my favorite Disturbed songs at ear cracking decibels. I can't resist a grin at the thought of Victoria in the throws of passion (as she surely was, it was nearly 3 AM and time for the quickie with the college boy) having to listen to my roaring cacophony of noise. I tap the panel nearest me and face it, the grin still firmly in place as Mark's face fills the screen. "Any luck in the lab?"
"Just finished putting the solution on. Hopefully we'll see the same results as last time in the morning."
"It is morning, silly girl," He laughs and I can't resist offering him up a big yawn. "Are you heading to bed?" The disappointment in his tone is clear and I shrug.
"Bed? I have one of those? I doubt I've seen it in days, perhaps it's been put to better uses than for that foolish sleep thing," I smirk and his grin radiates even through the computerized image of himself.
"Excellent, I was thinking Chess, winner gets a back massage," he offers and I can feel my smile falter. "From the spa," he adds quickly, but the damage was done. He saw my thoughts running across my features and knows that I realized he hadn't mean the spa.
"You can't threaten me with a good time, buddy. I'm so there. Be prepared to get schooled in the fine art of... French Pawn Moves!" I announce and tap off the screen before he can respond. I exit the lab, going through the lights that will kill any microbe that might be clinging to my body. Another redundant system that should be pointless if all safety procedures are followed, but I appreciate the redundancy. I've seen the aftermath of that microbe incubating in the sealed box, and the images still haunted my dreams. Insomnia was becoming a way of life for more reasons than just the work.
The walk to the recreation room is not long, but the hallways are bleak in their false light, the tiny rectangular windows made of stone face naught but stone once more and I wonder for a moment who designed windows for a castle underground. It would seem a wasted effort until I find myself in front of one, my hand on it’s sill. I close my eyes and put my hand through the opening, four whole inches where I can pretend that my hand will escape this prison and find the sun glistening in all it’s glory. I imagine it’s rays arching across my fingertips, playing over the veins in my hand and I swear for a moment and I can feel my body straining to soak up to the light until I moved just a hairs breath too far and my hand contacts the rock face. My eyes snap open and the dream is lost, and I’m aching inside, pressing against that damnable rock and wishing I had the strength to literally move mountains. With a sigh, I snatch my hand back, rubbing it to rid it of the unpleasant cold that always radiates from inanimate rock, wishing to recall the feel of the sun again for just a moment. A footstep clangs behind me, and I turn my head slightly to see who else would be awake at 3 in the morning and am puzzled to find the long hallway devoid of all life. A quick glance towards the other end of the hallway confirms that I am, in fact, alone does nothing to quell my sudden case of nerves. My steps are purposeful when I set back along my original path, unvarying from my usual pace, but the creeping sensation of being followed does not recede until I find myself facing the recreation room’s doorway.
Enter the threshold I almost allow a breath of relief to escape my chest, but instead smile at Mark who has already set up the beautiful pure silver chess board. I slide into the metal chair and note that he has chosen his side. "Ah, trying to gain the advantage by giving me black?" I grinned, and the game was on. We didn't talk much during the game, our full attention was six moves ahead, possible variants for each move the opponent could make taking up all of our concentration. We played like scientists, analyzing, musing, our hands aching to finger the smooth pieces, but with touch play in affect, we didn't dare.
The final move was a thing of beauty and I ended with Checkmate so tight there was no hope of escape that left Mark gaping at the board in astonishment. “I’ll be in the spa,” I shot over my shoulder as he desperately attempted to figure out some form of escape that would save him, but I was confident as I entered the fully automated room. I touched the control panel that would log my preferences before disrobing and lying on the table. Computerized rollers and pins massage my back in a tantalizing pattern that caused me to quickly drift off to sleep.
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There was someone in the room with me, I could feel his presence above my head, breathing on my oiled skin and my eyes shot open. Something was keeping me from lifting my head much higher than his thighs. The realization that I was completely nude, pinned to the table and at the mercy of whomever was standing above me gave rise to a panic I had not felt in years. “Could you help me out here, I seem to be stuck,” I spoke, my voice unwavering, my confidence that this person was here on good terms completely false but necessary for me to restrain the bile mounting in my throat.
“Of course, but first, I must really tell you how gorgeous you are laying there. So beautiful I had to remove the towel to see if you truly were as stunning beneath all those layers. I hope you can forgive my intrusion, but I couldn’t resist,” the voice was odd, strained, and I couldn’t place it. There were only 4 males down here with us, and I knew them all now as I knew my own family, how could I not place the voice?
“I’ll forgive you fully if you can help me get up,” I reassured him, desperate now to be released from this trap, but his legs moved from my sight as hands touched my back. Every muscle tensed in my body, the revulsion at this blatant violation rushing forward to replace the fear and soon was followed by anger. He ran his hands up and down my back, simulating the back massage that I had received prior to nodding off, and a sinking feeling entered my mind as I realized he had no plans of allowing me up anytime soon. “Listen, that feels amazing, but I’ve got such a pain in my neck, I must have fallen asleep on it the wrong way. Please, just help me out and we can continue where you leave off,” I whisper, hoping my voice won’t give away my desire to have him in an incubator with that damn microbe.
His breath becomes hot on my neck, his lips so close to my flesh I’m certain he’ll touch me with them, but instead he speaks, “So beautiful, so tense, and so cold. You haven’t let anyone touch you down here, even that poor boy Mark who worships you so, choosing these lifeless machines to give you the contact a human body needs. Such a pity that the boy is watching from the doorway and can’t see the restraint I strapped over your shoulders. Such a pity he can only see you receiving a massage from a male and is just now turning away, leaving you here, all alone…with me,” the voice growled beside my ear and it was then I let out a piercing scream that had risen to my lips before I could swallow it back down. My terror was complete, my horror unrestrainedly, the promise of pain flowing from the monster above me combined with his sick pleasure at my utter helplessness causing my heart to pound within my throat. I thrashed, desperate to find a way to the strap across my back, my feet spiraling at the end of the table, sending computerized arms flying and there’s a moment where I hope the arms will impale this being and save me from his wrath, or my screams will call Mark back to my aid, but then I recall the sound proof nature of the spa just as a fist slams into my face and I’m sent reeling into unconsciousness.