I am standing in a white room, just as I rember it when I first woke up in the laboratory.
I see Dr. Carell, the table, and the computer, but in the chair in the middle, it is not who is chained to it; it is Henry.
Clenching my jaw, I walk to him, seeing him stare at Dr. Carell, who is typing sothing into the computer.
I watch the doctor stand up and swiftly insert a needle into Henry’s hand.
Then I see that sick fucker go to work, dissecting a paw that wasn’t his to touch—a hand that held mine and was probably still doing so in the present, a hand that patted , stroked , fuck—a hand that beat the first ti we t. A hand that touched my chest, with the specific finger that tapped twice right above my heart.
"Where is Kenny?" The dog, not caring about his paw, asks.
"He is gone and left you here to fend for yourself." I answer his question, watching the blood, the tissue, and the muscles on display for everyone to see thanks to Dr. Carell.
I see Henry moving strongly, hoping to get electroshocked and to send that shock to Dr. Carell.
"Nice try." I praise him, and while the doctor shows off why it wouldn’t affect him, I place my hand on Henry’s hair.
I can feel his hair; I can touch him. Apparently, my hand doesn’t slide through him as if I were a ghost or anything. But I can’t ruffle his hair; it is absolutely unmoving, no matter how soft it feels.
"Close your eyes." I command while stroking his hair, not wanting him to see his own dissection.
But I can’t stop him from seeing it, even by covering his eyes and feeling his lashes brush against my palms.
"Disobedient." I hiss.
The doctor talks shit, and I watch as he finishes, sewing together what he had no right to take apart, placing bandages, and then I see the final act: the collaring.
A collar that is put around Henry’s throat, constricting him from using his power.
I take another long, good look at Dr. Carell before I let myself be pulled back.
Coming back, I see Henry staring at , with the lollipop in his hand. He smiles brightly, yet still calls out.
"How sneaky."
I chuckled, not answering. I was so fucking angry that I didn’t even want to curse anymore.
"It has all healed; look." He popped the lolly in his mouth and showed his hand.
I got out of his hold and examined his hand closely. There were not even scars; it was spotless. If I hadn’t had this ability, I wouldn’t even have known about the horrors he went through.
Fuck, so angry.
While I held his hand, he slid his fingertips over my palm or stroked my fingers with his thumb, like a restless little pup.
Dr. Lawrence entered, her eyes instantly on the lollipop in Henry’s mouth as she ca and sat down.
"It wasn’t easy to find." She put a very thin little pink paper in front of .
"Silk paper." She explained.
"Please commit it to your mory, and then take it out and rip it. Always the sa way, and it would be best if you counted the tis you are ripping it into two. I will keep the original, and we will see if there are any damages at so point."
The idea was so good that I nearly forgot my anger for a second. Nearly.
"Okay." I said, letting go of Henry to touch the paper before giving it back to her.
"Now, go eat lunch. By tomorrow, I’ll have everything ready." She said, before standing up herself.
We left the room, and with Henry hanging on like usual, we went to eat sothing.
Interestingly, Red-Hair was still absent, not only from eating but apparently also from the lessons, for whatever reason.
Because she was absent along with the skinny guy and his friends, the rest of the day was free from any nuisances, but that still didn’t help get rid of my fury.
ditatively, I took the pink paper out and ripped it constantly during the rest of the day, getting curious looks, but everyone here had already seen take out a ladder, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise.
"What’s wrong, Kenny?" Chelsea asked while we ate dinner.
"Nothing."
Henry leaned toward , whispering in my ear,
"I showed you that everything was healed; there’s no need to be grumpy. I also got even with him before we left that world."
"Yeah." But that wasn’t enough.
"He is in this world, right?" I asked him—he seed to have ntioned that.
"Yes, he was taken away with Henrietta and our parents." I nodded.
I felt guilty for leaving him behind, and although it shouldn’t matter anymore, with all the fucking guilt piled up, it did matter to —strongly so.
After we went back to our room and both washed up, Henry waited for his invitation to my bed by sitting obediently in front of it on the floor. Once he received said invitation, I lay awake and waited for him to sleep.
When I was sure that he was deep asleep, I peeled his paws off and went to the bathroom.
I conjured up one of my late mother’s lipsticks I had touched as a child while rummaging through her handbag and left a ssage on the bathroom mirror:
’Taking a walk, I’ll be back soon.’
After writing it down, I put the lipstick away and watched as the creamy texture dried out, leaving the ssage old and withered but still readable.
I looked at the ankle monitor on my leg and thought for a while before I tried teleporting out of it, which actually worked, the device falling onto the bathroom rug when I appeared a few centiters away. Good to know. So I can’t be restricted by handcuffs or anything ever again.
That was really reassuring, seeing that I constantly ended up chained.
Because the monitor wasn’t broken or anything, there should be no alarm, instead only my data missing for so ti—though I don’t know what they are asuring exactly.
Looking at the device, there was a thorn with fresh blood on it—I knew that thing had pricked .
I also put the bracelet down before I conjured up black clothes, gloves, shoes, and a green and black Halloween mask that you could put over your whole head.
Then I thought of Dr. Carell and flipped the coin.
It was in the middle of the night, so I thought he would sleep obediently. But he did not.
Inside a little room that reminded of a prison cell, he was frantically writing things at a tal table. He didn’t notice my appearance, so I silently walked behind him and looked at what he was scribbling on.
While I ca closer, I noticed that sothing wasn’t right with half of his face, the sa with the hand he wasn’t writing with. Henry said he got even with him, but he had omitted the details.
On the paper in front of him, I saw chemical formulas that I didn’t recognize, but also detailed descriptions that included a repetition of the word ’corruption’.
That fucker can’t be left alone to run around freely.
I looked up and found no caras, but it didn’t matter anymore.
I grabbed his head with inhuman speed and turned it, hearing a final crack.
Do you feel better now?
I wish I could say no.
Chuckling, I looked down at the body that broke down lifelessly at his desk.
But yeah, I am feeling a little bit better.
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