The Man Who Was Not There – Part 4

He opened his eyes and waited until he had adjusted to the brightness before sitting up. His face was numb, as were his fingers and toes. He was trying to massage feeling back into his fingers when he noticed a plate of food on the chair.

Without a sense of time he had no idea how long it had been since he had eaten but he realized he was famished and looked at the plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes with peas and gravy and felt his mouth water.

It seemed likely he would be drugged again if he ate but he didn’t see much choice. He picked up the glass of water and downed half of it without bothering to examine it and then tucked into the plate of food with the plastic fork provided.

In another part of the building a meeting was taking place.

“What have you got to report?”

“The subject is softening. Yesterday he hesitated when asked his name and clearly retains remnants of the identities we’ve assigned him. However, he isn’t at a place where he will break just yet. Further work is needed.”

“I see. You’re convinced then that he is who we think he is?”

“I wouldn’t be bothering with him if I didn’t. I gave you my word I would produce results and I will.”

“Very well. Keep me posted on your progress and notify me of any breakthroughs right away.”

The captive finished his meal and went to the door and put his ear to it. Not a sound to be heard. He tried the door handle but it was locked. He went back to the bunk and lay down to wait for whatever came next. He tried once again to remember where he had been before he woke up in this place but he couldn’t come up with anything.

It dawned on him that he was beginning to question his very identity. He was Fred Thompson and he was a…he put his hand against the wall as a vision came into his head and caused him to feel like he was falling sideways. He struggled to comprehend what he had just seen but it was gone as quickly as it had come.

Damn, they must have drugged him again. He got up and walked to the toilet as a sudden strong urge to urinate overcame him. As he stood there relieving himself the door burst open and the lab-coated man entered, taking no notice of what was happening. He went to his chair and sat down and started writing.

The captive went back to his bunk and sat down.

“Can’t a guy get some privacy around here? When the hell is this farce going to be over?”

The lab-coated one kept writing for a minute longer and then looked up.

“I’m sorry, Brent, did you say something?”

“What? My name is Frank and you know it.”

He felt a shift in his mind again as he spoke and another brief vision flashed before his eyes. He chose to ignore it.

“Now Brent, why are you calling yourself Frank? Are you confused? Is there something bothering you?”

He felt his fists balling up and gritted his teeth.

“I should bash your head in asshole.”

Lab coat shrugged his shoulders.

“Go for it tiger.”

Had he any feeling in his face he would have known the blood has rushed to it and he was bright red. As adrenalin flowed through him he surged off the bed only to feel himself skew sideways and crash to the floor. He looked up in horror as the lab-coated one mutated into a hideous creature with two heads and six-inch long fingernails.

“How are you feeling Brent? You don’t look well.”

He could make out some words being spoken to him by the creature but as he looked harder the man’s appearance returned to normal. He rolled over on his side and stared vacant-eyed at the floor.

“My name is…”

Blackness descended.

Part 5 Tomorrow

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