Against My Will 2 (CHAPTER) (Patreon)

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> AGAINST MY WILL 2

He didn’t even grunt as tape came off his arm, the triple-layered adhesive ripping off some hair with it. The cannula was pulled quick, the white-coat not even bothering to press down after as a bead of red came out of his elbow and trailed down onto his cot.

…what now?

Days were still a theory and weeks were just a hypothesis at this point, every bit of his life just cycles. It was repetitive as hell but he’d almost gotten used to it — awake, questions, back to bed, asleep — even when the cycles didn’t actually stick to the same order.

He’d definitely passed out mid-question more than a few times so, without a window or a clock to check anything against, assuming it was anything like once a day was just a guess.

A good guess, but still a guess.

Two soldiers, square-jawed jarheads that could have been plucked right from central casting for the role of ‘government dickhead’, walked right into the small room, one of them behind the other with a wheelchair. Not the same two as the last time, of course, because they never bothered repeating faces.

Just the same haircuts and the same plate carriers all the time.

“Up.”

“Y-yeah, I got it.” Legs came up off the cot fine and the rest of him chose to rebel, the room doing a slow tilt to the left as Orin realized no, he didn’t got it.

Hands went under his armpits, hauling him high before he could even get a word of complaint out. “Okay, I said I got it, damn.” A hard shove had him in the chair — wrists, chest, and ankles strapped down tight in a way he was long used to. “...need to tie me down to beat my ass, I see you.”

Kinda flattering.

His own knees knocked together as he watched them, the pale blue hospital-gown shorts they had stuck him in since day one. Those knees had gotten loud, jutting out like two knobs on sticks and his wrists were no different — both of them in the straps with enough toom to turn all the way around. Orin wasn’t surprised, considering he hadn’t put anything solid in his mouth since the day he woke up here first, too long to count when his stomach had honestly stopped complaining about it before he did.

They kept wheeling him, taking him far past any of the few rooms he recognized — the shock room, the water room, the beating room — and the hallway kept on going.

FULL CHAPTER HERE —> AGAINST MY WILL 2