The Dark Sire Issue 1 (Fall 2019) | Page 67

The doctor always put a black hood over my face before he guided me from the transport cage, down a long corridor, in which I heard voices behind glass, to a cool and seemingly vast high-ceilinged room. He left me there, alone, instructing me to stand absolutely still and not make a sound. I detected the tang of steel polish in the unmoving air. My bare feet froze on the slick laminate, while the hairs that covered every inch of my otherwise-naked body bristled. I tried counting the seconds and minutes, but I eventually lost count and thought only of my tired back. * * * * Did I dream blinding lights and needlelike pains between my vertebrae and the room’s becoming smaller until the walls touched my shoulders? I felt as though I emerged from cold sleep when I, still standing, heard the approach of shoes in sterilized plastic casings. The doctor took me 65