Chapter 2: Tests (The Evil Within Fanfiction)

   You sleep restlessly through the night, tossing and turning, waking several times to a complete, devouring darkness. Your eyes flitter open once more, this time greeted by the deep scarlet hue of the canopy above. It's about the millionth time you've woken up now, but at least it appears to be morning this time; the sunlight breaks through the curtains and you faintly hear the melodies of birds dancing through the opened crack in the window. You aren't awake for long without remembering your objectives for today; the tests. The idea of them creates an acidic, anxious feeling in the pit of your belly. You have so many questions as to what these tests entail. Finding the answers will surely relax you, won't it?
   You rise up out of bed and swiftly get dressed, not wanting to keep Ruvik and Jimenez waiting for too long. You decide to make your way for the main hall, figuring that's where they'll be awaiting you. It's the only room you have a shred of an idea how to get to, anyway. Outside your door, a pinch of eerie silence is sprinkled through the corridor. This doesn't unnerve you as much today. You're beginning to get used to the edgy, dark energy of this place.
   As you wander, you notice a picture displayed on the wall you didn't notice before. There's a young girl and boy, and what you assume to be their parents all gathered together for a family portrait. They're dressed formally, all of their faces holding somber expressions, save for the girl who carries a mysterious smile. As you inspect closer, you recognize the girl's crimson-red dress; it's the same one the 'forbidden room' guards. The boy.. Is that...Ruvik? You feel odd lingering there, looking at these people, gazing into a past that doesn't mimic one thing of the present.
   You catch the sound of conversation wafting on the air. They must be somewhere near..


   You approach them as they sit in the diningroom adjoining the main hall. They both appear immensely engaged inside their own worlds; Jimenez's attention is deeply spellbound by a book as Ruvik jots down notes with papers strewn around him, pen in hand moving across paper swiftly. The soft sounds of your footsteps rips him from his trance.
   "There you are."
   Jimenez gazes up from his book, beaming up at you with zest, "At last. I hope you slept well last night, _____. It is going to be quite a productive day for all of us."
   You get straight to the point. "I want to know what exactly these tests include. What kind of side effects will they have?" Your head is bursting with questions. You want to make sure you will be safe in the hands of these still near-strangers.
  Jimenez sets down his book, his expresson shedding its former enthusiasm. You get the sense he is starting to grow slightly impatient with your hesitation. "As we've stated before, no long-term effects, if any, will result from the assessments. I assure you that you will be absolutely fine, ______."
   This still doesn't persuade you; why can't you know exactly what these tests will be like? If they want a willing subject, maybe they should inform you what will be done to you..
   Ruvik seems to correctly gauge what's on your mind;
   "If you are unaware of what the test involves, we achieve more useful, definite results," he clarifies matter-of-factly, "It's crucial that you aren't allowed to prepare yourself." A ghost of a smile slips onto his lips.
   "Precisely. Ruben has had practice with these matters ever since he was a child. There's no reason for you to be anxious. We are professionals. Besides, it would be quite ludicrous for us to put our would-be assistant in harm's way, wouldn't it?" Jimenez finishes the sentence with a chuckle.
   "I guess." You force a half-smile. They're right. If Jimenez wants you to be an assistant so badly, why would he allow you to get hurt? You attempt to relax yourself, your shoulders slacking.
   Ever since you've arrived at this strange place, you feel incredibly vulnerable. You feel akin to a small child left alone in an unknown place, screaming for familiarity. However, as much evidence there exists to drive you away from this odd world, something equally drags you under. It repulses, but it calls. You can't pin down why.
   "I presume you are ready to get started then?' Jimenez asks, barging into your brief introspection.
   You nod as you try to muster up a bit of bravery.
   "Ruvik, I suggest you and ______ get started. There are several assessments to knock out of the way, after all. Time is of the essence."
   Ruvik rises casually from the table. "This way."
   As you follow him to the first test, you try to mentally expel the fear that loves to ferment inside you lately, but it's tough to budge. It's like the dread of a dentist's appointment, except it functions on a whole other, scarier level. At least you'd be aware of what would happen inside a dentist's office..

   You shadow him through a door which you imagined would lead to a kitchen, but instead directs you to something vastly different. It's incredibly dim and a chilly draft greets you upon entrance. There's a gleaming stainless steel table running nearly the length of the room, with two sinks and gas hook-ups off to the side. White cabinets line the walls, punctuated by floor-to-ceiling glass cases which display jars of various, unidentifiable specimens. The room is immaculate; you see that there is a place for everything, and everything is in its proper place.
   As you survey your surroundings, you note that everything here could be placed into a category of 'normal research equipment' until you notice the chair that lurks in a corner of the room. There are shackles protruding from the arms, down near the legs, for the waist, and even the neck.
   Your head whips to Ruvik, your lips pressing together, silently imploring him for an explanation. The breath of a laugh escapes him.
   "I have to ensure that you're secured."
   "For what?" What kind of test possibly calls for strapping you to a chair?
   Ruvik advances towards the intimidating device. "If I told you, then you would be prepared for it, wouldn't you." He gestures for you to take a seat, that same cryptic smile returning.
      You stand there, still ogling at the chair and at what you've managed to get yourself into. Ruvik doesn't like your stalling.
   "Sit."
    You cautiously place yourself in the seat of the chair. Ruvik begins the process with one of your wrists. His bandaged hand calmly unites the shackle and its separate piece, colliding them together leisurely, as though to savor the sound of the locking mechanism. He drifts from one iron to the other; his pace giving you the impression he's not worried about hurrying. His eyes meet yours as each one is latched, every time the gaze drips with more intensity. Your pulse elevates. You try to refrain from visibly trembling as he locks you in slowly. Is he doing this on purpose? Dragging it out?
   He goes unseen as he proceeds behind you to the last restraint; the one for your neck. You see his hand extend before you, reaching across your throat to bring the restraint from the opposite side of your neck to the other. Your eyes shut tightly, waiting for the metallic locking sound, anticipating the slight compression on your neck that lets you know you're completely immobile.
   It doesn't happen.
   Stillness. It's so silent you can almost hear your heartbeat. He's halted at the last one, his hand hovering so closely to your neck. You can feel your wild pulse bounce off of the iron that is firmly intertwined with your wrists. The building suspension beckons your anticipation to surge and it reaches its peak, your respiration dwindling to short, shuddering breaths. A smile tugs at his scarred lips. He loves toying with you, savoring every moment. Exactly where I want you.

SNAP. You jump at the sound.
You're locked in. A strange sense of relief runs through you.
    Ruvik returns to your line of vision where he pulls open a drawer and withdraws a syringe loaded with some kind of liquid. You immediately wince at the sight of the needle. "What is that?"
   "Inside this syringe is a chemical which forces honesty." He slightly lifts the syringe, observing how the liquid shifts to one side as he tilts it. "With it, there's nothing you can hide from me."
   "...It's..it's a truth serum?"
   "You could say that," he answers matter-of-factly. He catches the flare of worry in your expression and he pauses. "If you have no reason to lie to me, why worry?" he leans closer, forcing you to recoil in the chair as much as you can. You feel like you're just a kitten and he's a lion baring its fangs. "Possibly, If you are hiding something, I could allow you to leave now, and save myself the trouble of having to dispose of you." His pale eyes interrogate yours, prying for a clue of deception.
   "But..W-What would I lie about?"
   "If you've come here with an ulterior motive, you won't be able to hide it. If you are trying to feed off of my work that I've given..so much time to, I'll know. This is your one chance to leave." His distrust causes you to wonder if he's speaking from experience. You assume if someone actually attempted a foolish thing, they didn't get away with it.
   "I have nothing to hide."
   His gaze switches back to the syringe. You shut your eyes tightly, bracing for the pain. Instead, you feel a soaked cottonball on the inside of your arm. The cool, dabbing touch almost soothes your nerves. It surprises you how gentle he's handling you until you abruptly feel the pierce of the needle. The sharp pain causes you to cringe, a panicked gasp escaping you.
   He non-chalantly flips on an audio recorder off to his right and promptly beings speaking, duly noting everything. "Administered chemical to subject, _______. Intention: evaluation purposes.."
    You're effected immediately; as soon as you open your eyes your vision is beginning to falter. It's wavery like you're under the sea, plummeting deeper and deeper into the depths. Ruvik calmly continues to record notes on your condition, his eyes watching you inquisitively as you fade away. "Subject slips into altered state of consciousness.." he tapers off, his voice moving further and further from you. The world falls away..    
   Then, everything is black. An ebony abyss.


   Your eyes snap open, darting around the room wildly. You want to lean forward, get up, or simply move at all, but you can't. There's a force barricading you. Then it hits you; you're still in the chair. Your head swivles to the right where you spot an unmistakable silhouette at the desk, pen working vigorously, deeply entranced with whatever it is he's scribbling about. You look down at yourself and notice there's a bandaid on the inside of your arm. How long were you out?
   "Ruvik?"
   "Yes?" He continues writing un-phased. If it weren't for his response you'd think he didn't hear you at all.
   "What happened?"
   "Do you not remember. You were given.. the 'truth serum,' as you call it." You notice something that wasn't there before. He's usually unperturbed, self-assured. A thoughtful, silent look takes its place. Something has swayed him..
   "Did you find out how I'm not hiding anything from you?"
   He pauses and tilts his head, something having shoved him into deep thought. "You didn't give any indication you are lying about anything.. So far, you are who you say you are." You note that his eyes are avoiding you..like something else is absorbing his mind. You wonder if it has anything to do with what may have happened while you were under..'What did I say?' What could it have been? You figure he wouldn't tell you anyway, so you don't bother asking. Why should I care, anyway?
  "If that's so, do you think I qualify to be an assistant, then?"
   Your eagerness puts an amused light in his eyes. He's not used to having his mind preoccupied with things like this. In a way, he resents himself for it, but it's difficult for him not to act on his impulses.. What you had told him while under the 'truth serum' doesn't help resolve it. In fact, it electrifies it. He shakes his head as if to toss away the thoughts from his mind, "I haven't made a decision."
    His uncertainty slightly irritates you. You wish you could cross your arms.
   "Is this it for today? " you say, longing to be set free from the death trap chair.
   Ruvik rises from the desk and saunters over to where you are strapped into the chair, intense eyes peering down on you, running over your restrained body.

"What makes you think I'm done with you?" his tone coupled with a slowly creeping smile tells you he isn't implying another test.
   He leans down and sets both hands on top the arms of the chair on either side of you. His face merely inches away, his stare arresting you. He's so close..
"Ruvik?" Jimenez calls from the other room, then you hear his footsteps rapidly approaching, echoing louder and louder..    
Ruvik rolls his eyes, steps away from you, and calmly regains his professional facade as Jimenez appears around the corner.
"Doctor,"
Your heart still thumps from excitement and you hope your face isn't flushing red.
"How is our soon-to-be assistant?"
"There's been considerable progress," a mysterious hint of a smile plays on his burned lips.
Jimenez's vision settles on the locks restraining you and his eyes widen in shock. "Ruvik..did you not know that restraining the subject was not necessary?" His gaze alternates briskly between you and his peer.
"I was not aware." Liar.
"May I be removed from this chair, please?" you ask, your muscles starting to ache from the stiff position the chair had forced you to hold for the past hour and a half. You've had more than enough of this.
"Oh, yes, of course!" Jimenez advances for a button located somewhere near your head and pushes it with a click. Immediately, all five shackles spring open and you are released. You take a deep breath of relief, massaging your sore neck with gentle squeezes.
"Now, Ruvik, seeing that you feel this test was successful, do you honestly feel it reasonable for yet another? I advise we go ahead and add ______ to our team. The sooner we begin, the better."
Ruvik shakes his head. "I want to be completely certain before making a decision, doctor. One would be foolish not to be."



   You are accompanied by Jimenez and Ruvik through another door. You see nothing at first; the room is concealed by darkness. Ruvik finds a switch on the wall and flips it. The fluorescent lighting bursts to life and flickers for a moment before settling.
   Your jaw falls as your eyes fix on what awaits you.
   In the center of the room lies another chair. It bears a similar apparatus to the previous in that it has the same kind of restraining system, but it's additionally equipped with a metal helmet that looms over the back. Numerous holes dot its metallic surface with thin stakes of metal fixed to strike through them. The only purpose you could fathom them having is to puncture your skull. It is reminiscent of something ripped from a nightmare, its form contrasting drastically from the plain white floors and walls.
   Fear jolts down your spine, threatening to overcome you. You take a step backwards. You just want to get away..
   Ruvik places a hand on the small of your back and gives you a slight push, guiding you towards the sadistic contraption.

"Let's begin."