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Need To Know-Part Three
by: Terissa Brozina
![[Image]](pict19.jpg){kind=small}
Disclaimer: The Invisible Man (2000 series)
and its characters are copyrighted to the Sci-Fi channel and USA Cable
Entertainment. All rights reserved.
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Room 405, Underground Lab: location unknown
Darien's mind buzzed with a spinning sensation as he tried to grip reality and wake himself. Tentatively opening his eyes to a blazing white room he closed them again letting the light glow through his eyelids before letting the abusive brightness in once again. He forced his eyes open all the way and peered around the room. His chest was bare except for a small bandage and a single oxygen tube strung across his upper torso and behind his ears to his nose. Pulling it away he tried to move. The searing pain that followed ripped the breath from his lungs causing him to slump back down on the bed, face entangled in a knot of pain. He cringed and held his eyes tightly closed till the pain had subsided, taking a sharp breath he forced himself to look around the room again, only this time just moving his head. White walls, white ceiling, white everything, no windows, the only thing in the room was Darien, laid out on a single elevated hospital bed, which was unusually narrow. This was not a hospital he thought, the very idea stirred him uncomfortably, I have already been some ones lab rat for one year.
"How are we feeling Mr. Fawkes?" Darien was startled be the tall thin man, mid thirties, with light blond short hair, he stared down at him with beady little eyes, scrawling notes on a thin clipboard, he wore a long white lab coat.
"Uh? Well, I uh...love the white." he moved his arm with little pain indicating the room around him. "Yea, it's so...bland." A sarcastic smirk. "Where the hell am I? Cause I sure as hell know that this ain't no hospital and your far from doctorly like."
"How would you know that Mr. Fawkes?" He continued to scribble notes without looking at Darien.
"Uh? Well, for starters, this room is empty of everything except, well, 'me'. The doctor thing. You don't have a name tag, your hair has not been touched since you styled it this morning, your also wearing casual clothes under that, might I add, Lab coat. Besides, the fact that nobody is here." He looked around the room and then back. "You know, to greet the wounded man when he wakes up from being shot on the job, it's a classic." His tone was pure sarcasm when he spoke.
"Well, maybe they just don't care enough about you Mr. Fawkes." The man stared down at him now, letting the burning words sink in. They did burn, Darien's face turned to disgust at the comment, the man turned and left the room.
***
[You know a French novelist named Bernanos once wrote that "No man ever discovers the depths of his own loneliness." I tend to disagree, at that moment I new my depth of loneliness and it was like the Grand Canyon of the soul.]
Darien sank deeper into the bed when another piercing pain shot through him bringing with it the blanket of unconsciousness.
