The Implant (Katerine and Thomas)

[Major Tommy Dunn]

When Katerine opened her eyes, the room was so blindingly white that they were forced closed again. Her head pounded painfully against her skull and she groaned, trying to raise her hands up to it to apply pressure. There was a rather pressing problem brought up by that, however. Her hands were binding tightly to whatever she was lying on. And now that she had that instinct, she realized that whatever she was on was hard and cold. Made of metal. And her hands were bound. Her legs. She lifted her head and found she couldn't - her head was strapped down.

When she opened her eyes again, the white was just as blinding. The wall were white and washed to perfection. Not a speck of dirt or... blood... could be seen on it. Lights like those she had heard were in Artavia (the ones not run by magic or fire) were above her and shone down brightly, making her eyes ache. She turned her head slightly, as much as that straps would allow her. Almost everything was white. There were a couple of chairs, a table... and then one thing that wasn't that godforsaken white. Something that intimidated her and caused her struggle more vehemently against her binds, not caring that her ribs were still broken and moving around in her chest. In the room that was so white was a silver metal table with wheels on it. A blue fabric of some kind was draped over it, long on the wide part of the rectangle and short on the stout side. A series of tools decorated the table. Just as silver. Blades of various kinds. Some frightening blade that was a jagged circle. She screamed, but was certain no one heard her.

She was wrong.

Tom was above her head. Sitting in a white chair by the door staring at her struggling. He had waited for too long now. He was anxious. She had spent so much time in her unconsciousness... Tom felt angry at her, though it was perhaps his fault for hitting her as hard as he had. It was in the heat of the moment, after all... And there would have been no heat to act in, had Endless done his job properly. Thus, he blamed the boy for her pain. For his angst. "You're awake I see," Tom greeted, stepping up from his seat as he watched her try to crane her neck back to see behind her. She struggled, not bothering to cry out as she saw the heavy door and the man who looked so intimidating.

"No words? Kat got your tongue?" He laughed a bit at his own joke, enjoying the fact that he had learned so much about her while she was 'asleep'. He was at her side now, feeling her pulse and running his hand over his head. "How do you feel?" He asked as a silence had fallen over them for too long.

"Why are... What are you going to do to me?" Katerine asked, biting her lip and feeling her skin get sticky with sweat as he checked her like a doctor might. "I'm glad you changed your question Miss Katerine," Tom said as he turned away to the small metal table, "The other one is too obvious. Sadly, I can't oblige you. I can't tell you what's going to happen. There are so few words for it... So I think I'd rather show you."

He saw the fear flicker in her eyes as he turned back, and he offered her a reassuring smile. "Look, I promise you that I will make this as painless as possible. And that's you'll survive to see another day." It wasn't a lie really. He was going to do his best to implant it without too much suffering on her part, and she would leave her and see another day. It wouldn't be her, in all technicality... but she'd still see it.

"Now, you've nothing to fear. I'm just going to turn you over now, and numb the area. That's what the ice is for." Katerine hadn't noticed the ice bucket before. It was next to the table, so white it simply blended with the rest of the scene. What Katerine also didn't notice until she heard metal and felt pressure being released from her wrist, was that to turn her around he was going to unhook her from this table. She could take the chance to run. She had to take the chance to run.

"You might feel some pain, but I promise to make it as easy to take as I possibly can. I hate to hear nice girls scream when it's not a scream of pleasure," He smiled at her as he moved to her feet, undoing the straps and finally heading to her head. She was silent, and he offered another small smile that just barely reached his eyes as he undid her head.

As soon as the strap was undone, she jumped to her feet. She pushed him away and ran as fast as she could to the door... Then she realized a very horrifying thing. The door had no handles. It could not be pushed. It was more like an indent in the wall as opposed to a door. She pushed and pushed, tears running down her face and gasps coming to her mouth as her ribs pressed into her lungs. She turned, her back to the door facing Tom. He was standing there, looking disappointed. "Now Katerine-"

"How do you know my name?" She accused, sidestepping the table as he began to walk towards her. He stopped approaching, staying close to the tray with all of the frightening tools on it. "You just told me... Now look. I thought you were going to be a good girl. That's why I strapped you face up. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable, waking up with your nose against a great metal sheet. This is what you do with my hospitality?"

"But you... And... Hospitality? This isn't... Oh god... What are those tools for? What are you going to do to me? Who are you? Please, oh god. Please don't... I'll do anything. Just... don't..." She was pushed against the wall, distraught and confused. She tried to seem intimidating and brave - she wound up in the fetal position on the cold floor with Tom approaching gently. He bent next to her, his hand caressing her lightly on the shoulder. He was gentle, silent. Let her have her tears. "Katerine," He began, his voice soft and silky, trustworthy, "Please come back to the table. What you're doing... All this activity isn't good for those brittle bones of your's. Let me... fix you."

"How can you-?" She began, sniffling and wiping her running nose with her dry wrist. She looked at him, staring into his face -- looking into his eyes. She didn't think she could trust him. But she wanted to. "It's the one thing you want, and I"m the wish giver. You want to be normal, don't you?" He stood, offering a hand to help her up.

"Well... yes..." She looked down at her feet, wondering why Jackson and Alana and Aras weren't here helping her. Especially Jackson. Mostly Jackson. He was the one she always depended on. He was the father she'd never been allowed, the love of her life she'd never find. At least, the one she'd find as long as she looked like this. Like a dead person. She took Tom's hand and let him pull her to her feet and lead her to the table. He paused to slide some sort of lever that opened up a hole big enough for her face. Then he asked her to stay there as he ventured to get a soft white fabric from the side of the room that he subsequently laid out for her. "You know my name..." She murmured slowly as he did all this, "But I don't know your's."

He smiled as he smoothed out the wrinkles, offering her a hand to get into place. "Thomas. I much prefer Tom or Tommy, though." He laid her out, head in the opening so that she would stare down at the floor as he worked on her. She lay there, vaguely unthinking, and he went to fetch the metal table, bringing it over so that it was right by him. Then he retreated to the far corner of the room where a surprisingly hidden basin and counter were hidden. He washed his hands, slipping on gloves and then a mask, finally putting an apron on over his head to protect his clothes from spatter.

"Can you tell me what you're doing?" Katerine asked as he heard him walk back over. "I can tell you to bite down on this," He told her gently, offering her a thick rod to hold in her teeth. Something to bite down while he worked. "Does this mean tha-" He slipped it in, feeling her bite down on it before moving his hand away and grabbing a large hunk of ice.

He moved her hair out of the way, and then let it sit on the back of her neck. He was more than certain it was painful, extreme cold often was. The pain would subside soon, however, and then she would at least only feel a dull ache while he cut.

Now, however, he had to strap her back in as she tried to move with the ice on her neck. "Keep still Kitty," He whispered, strapping her in, "I know it's uncomfortable... But if you want to be normal, you have to let it happen." He heard mumblings from behind the rod, but ignored them. He used the time the ice needed to completely numb her neck to check his tools over. By the time he was done, it was time.

He grabbed a scalpel, holding it to her neck and whispering a faint apology before beginning the first cut. He had to be careful, slow, had to tune out the sounds of her screaming behind the gag. If he cut too far, then she would be useless to them. Her spinal chord had to be in perfect condition, otherwise the device would not do what it needed.

"Listen to me Katerine Vexler, listen only to me..." He told her as she screamed, as he cut, as the blood slipped around his fingers and pooled on the table, "If you do, you'll see a sunrise when you wake... Just listen."

(Timestamp: Emonea 2nd, 10:50PM-11:20PM)