Blackest Knight
Chapter 4
John laid down upon the cold operating table. He had stripped down to the underwear that someone in the castle had fashioned for him, along with several sets of simple clothes. His back met the cold metal of the table, and he shivered. He was surrounded by four changelings that he assumed were doctors, his yet-to-be named caretaker standing by the door. They strapped him to the table, and John found he was not able to move a fraction of an inch. Once they fastened his head, only his hands were free.
“We will not be able to sedate you, because our previous subjects had a one hundred percent mortality rate under sedation,” The calm voice of the doctor looking down upon him only succeeded in elevating John’s nervousness. He had been told before that the entire process had a ‘one hundred percent mortality rate’ whether or not the subject was under sedation. The doctor chuckled, seeing John’s expression, “I mean they died a lot faster than the un-sedated patients.”
“So how exactly is that supposed to calm me?” John asked.
“It isn’t” the doctor replied before preparing for the procedure. John had a sinking feeling about the entire thing, but he had no choice, since his unnamed handler had control over
John’s curse and would force him to comply anyways. John tried, but failed, to relax as a multitude of metal arms glided toward him, guided by the changeling doctors’ magic. Slid from the ends of the metallic arms, and the doctors positioned each carefully before plunging the needle into John’s skin. He gasped and would have recoiled as eighteen needles punctured him at once. Two were in each arm and four in each leg. Three lined each side of his abdomen. He would have recoiled, but the straps constricted all movement.
“Perfect accuracy, if I say so myself,” The head doctor remarked before throwing a switch on the wall. “Now let’s begin the injection.”
A low humming came from the machine the arms were attached to, and John could feel fluid being injected. The doctors began to mark incision points all over his body after the needles receded.
“You are going to cut me while I am awake as well?” John asked, knowing he was in for pain.
“The areas we operate upon will be magically frozen, so no muscle spasms will disrupt the procedure, and blood loss will be minimal, plus the fluids we injected will wash out the pain of the incisions.”
“I thought you couldn’t sedate me?” John was confused, but could feel what felt like pinpricks all over his body. The feeling was akin to a limb that had fallen asleep.
The doctor chuckled before replying, “The injections were not sedatives, They will merely hurt more than what we are doing.”
John suddenly realized what the changeling meant as pain erupted inside his chest. Screams began to rip from his throat as the pain spread throughout his body.
Two of the doctors began the incisions as the third cast a constant Waking Spell upon John. The fourth was the relief for when the spell caster got fatigued. The procedure would not last long, but the spell was draining when used constantly. John’s caretaker was inside the room to cast a muffling spell around John’s head, to silence the inevitable screams.
John was lost inside himself. The only thing he was conscious of was the unbearable pain. The drug they injected him with felt like it was tearing him apart atom by atom. Unconscious could not bring relief, as it was warded off by a magical force. John felt himself being torn apart from the inside, and was barely aware of things being implanted into his arms. The pain was the only constant. John realized the pain was surging and pushing him toward an invisible cliff. The only thing john knew was that he could not fall from this cliff. John pushed against the pain. His vain struggles not evident in the waking world. John felt himself slipping ever closer to the cliff. Using every ounce of his strength and will to push against the wall of pain, only vaguely aware of his throat being torn by the force of his screams. His effort did little to slow the advancing wall. He approached the brink of the cliff.
A picture flitted through his mind, a small box. Having fallen from a plastic bag, the little box was open, containing a flawless diamond ring.
The wall of pain seemed to hesitate. John was inches from falling off the cliff. Looking down would reveal the face of Death itself. He realized that the wall was no longer advancing. He began pushing once again. The effort held no reward.
Another picture flitted in and out of memory. This one was the same ring, held within the glass counter of the small jewelry store. Faint emotion was attached to this memory, his feeling of excitement from laying his eyes upon the perfect ring.
The wall of pain began to recede. John felt the pain coursing through his body beginning to ebb as well.
Another picture, this time of his girlfriend. The woman he loved. His heart began to warm.
The wall’s speed increased, widening the gap from the edge.
Their first date, a simple affair, just a movie and dinner. He felt the joy and excitement once again.
His pain was beginning to disappear, though it still racked his body, it seemed the drug was beginning to reconstruct his body now, instead of tearing it apart.
Their first kiss. He still felt the brush of her lips against his. It had been short, but it was one of the happiest moments of his life.
The wall of pain disappeared at the exact moment that all pain left John’s body. He was left floating inside the black of his mind before slowly coming back to awareness.
“It looks like he’s waking up!” a voice came from the waking world. John’s awareness peaked as the voice spoke.
“He…He’s alive!” The head doctor spoke in astonishment. The four doctors broke into cheers, as they finally had a living subject. John smiled weakly, just glad for it to be over. The doctors hugged each other while John’s caretaker walked over. He was completely indifferent to the success. His loathing of the inferior creature canceling out his joy that his queen finally had a surviving pet.
“Well, it seems, if you can survive the other treatments, you will be of use to the queen.”
John’s face fell as the changeling spoke, “Other … treatments?”
“Of course,” the head doctor butted in, “several more treatments are needed to complete the enhancement process, but this was the worst one. And we will give you some time to recuperate, otherwise your chance of surviving would be zero percent without chance of miracle.” John gained little comfort at the idea of having a break. He knew he would have to be subject to the enhancements whether he wanted to or not though.
“Come,” the caretaker ordered, “You must return to your chambers and rest for training tomorrow.” John didn’t quite like the idea of training so soon after his harrowing experience, but followed nevertheless. He slept well through the rest of the day before being woken for dinner. As he ate, he began to feel extremely ill, but finished his meal. He would need the energy for the coming days.