Various Methods of Escape

V A R I O U S M E T H O D S O F E S C A P E

He awoke suddenly from his dream-like state. He attempted to lift his body up but couldn't. He glanced around the room: at his bedside table, at his door, at the mirror. Her voice shook him into focus, and there she was, staring back at him intently. He wanted to open up to her, tell her everything she wanted to know. Brushing the flick of hair from her face, she whispered softly to him.

"I gotta let go."

"What?"

"I gotta go."

"Where? Why?" He could barely move his arms. He was still in a trance.

She answered as best she could but he couldn't focus on what she was saying. He was focused on his government-issued manual on the metallic bedside table. He was sure that it shouldn't be there. But it was. However, he'd thrown it out months, years, ago. Or had he? The grey book with The Symbol on the label was supposed to be within each household -- so why was it such a surprise to him to be sat there so nonchalantly?

His attention shifted. Her words had now become muffled and distorted into the background. There was a presence in the room. It felt familiar to him. Black shadows darted away from the corners of his eyes in the direction of the mirror. If only he could concentrate on them for just one se...

"Why'd you have to make it so hard?"

He heard her words but couldn't make out the voice. He recognised it but he couldn't match a face. His head sunk into the pillow and he felt drained as the walls around him seemed to melt like butter. The floral wallpaper dissipated to reveal a clinically white wall. The woman had gone and the mirror switched to a window and the click of a button. Three blank-faced people in grey coats with The Symbol on their left-chest pockets stood behind the glass separation. He glanced down at the leather buckles clutching at him and saw the metallic bedside table beside him. He remembered.

They spoke intently to each other before looking towards the door. A woman walked in. She brushed a flick of hair from her face and whispered softly to him.

"Why'd you have to make it so hard?"

"I cannot tell the difference anymore."

He looked her in the eyes.

"I cannot trust myself."

"Good." She smiled.

"Don't. No more. I don't want anymore."

"It'll be over soon," she insisted, "They're impatient. You must be of some importance to them."

She smiled wryly before giving a gentle nod towards the window. Two men walked in. One held a recognisable needle.

His protests were inevitable yet hollow. Each man grabbed a shoulder and forced him down. He struggled feebly against the two immoveable objects as the needle was passed to her. She knelt down and positioned herself. As the tip directed itself towards his arm he looked at her. She became distracted by his monotonous tone

"I think I could lose myself in here."

A warmth flowed through him and he smiled and begin to sigh. A light revealed itself upon him from above. He felt a presence. The three grey-coated men witnessed their guards become ragdolls as he tossed them aside with ease. All with an eerily calm smile on his face.

"This is most unusual."

"Yes. We did not anticipate this occurrence for another two weeks."

"How much of the serum was inserted?"

"Unclear."

His buckles ripped effortlessly. Her legs dangled as he lifted her by her neck. An empty syringe fell out of her hand and rolled across the floor towards the three grey-coated men. Three eyebrows raised simultaneously.

His force brushed the flick of hair from her face. He spoke harshly to her.

"Let me get away."