Freak - A Dark Medical Romance

I feel the doctor’s hand touch my shoulder, slide down my spine to settle in the small of my back. It is large, like men’s hands almost always are. It is warm. I can feel the heat of his body through the thin spandex leotard they have me wear. They like to see how my body moves. There are little white dots across it so they can track me on camera, watch the way my limbs work. Nothing is secret. No part of me is for myself.

His other hand scoops around under my thighs, and I feel the brush of his forearm under my legs and then he takes my weight in an easy motion and lifts me up onto the bed. The embrace is brief, but it is an embrace. One of a handful I can count ever having happened in my entire life. Every muscle in my body tenses, expecting pain. Touch always hurts. But his doesn’t. I try not to breathe in too deeply, but I can’t help catching his scent. He smells like man and soap, and just a hint of aftershave. He is in contact with me for maybe three seconds as he lifts me onto the bed, but they’re the best three seconds I’ve had all year.

He is is big, so strong, so utterly capable. Everyone here is. But he is not like the others. I can tell that already. I have good instincts. Some would say that I only have instincts. Most everybody here brings death. This doctor brings life. I can feel it. He has an aura of goodness that I’m not used to.

“Cuff her down before you examine her, doc. She’s dangerous.” Tyko has followed us in. He can’t just let me be. He has to be there, constantly, ruining everything.

“Everyone here is dangerous,” the doctor winks, leaning in toward me.

He has one of the most handsome faces I’ve ever seen. Chiseled jawlines aren’t rare around here, but his is on another level. He has thick dark hair, sharp brows that I imagine must angle up when he is displeased, a well shaped mouth that forms the kindest words I’ve heard in my life. He looks like he could play superman, if he wasn’t so busy here, patching me up. ARES, the badge declares again when I drop my gaze to it. I love that name. I love everything about him.

Silence is creeping over me. This happens sometimes. When I am overwhelmed, I lose the ability to talk. The doctor starts asking me questions, but I just look at him. I know he must be confused because I was talking to him a moment ago, but that was different. I was fighting then, and when I fight, every part of me is free. I suspect that this quiet was programmed into me so I could resist torture. It’s impossible to get information out of someone who can’t speak. But I’m not being tortured right now. Completely the opposite. He’s being nice to me – and that, I do not know how to handle.

“She won’t talk,” Tyko says.

“She was just talking.”

“I told you she’s a freak.”

I let out a growl, but it’s not words. Tyko is right. I can’t speak. Not sitting this close to the doctor, feeling so overwhelmed by his presence, confused by his demeanor. He is a doctor working for this facility. That means he’s an evil bastard like the rest of them. So why doesn’t he act like it? Why is he so nice? Is it a trick? It’s probably a trick. They’re always making me think that one thing is something else.

“Perhaps you could tell me what happened,” the doctor says to Tyko. “Instead of repeating unprofessional insults.”

Tyko bristles. He doesn’t like being called unprofessional. He thinks he is the most professional hard man military big dick who ever walked the planet. The fact that he ended up here tells me he’s not one of the good guys. He’s not even one of the decent guys. He’s a total bastard, same as everyone else, a disgrace to whatever uniform he wore and the country he served. From what I’ve heard, he’s an ex-Marine. Dishonorably discharged, of course. He likes to forget about the latter part of his career, the part where the military he loved rejected him and tried to imprison him forever. I know that’s probably the truth, because I bring it up when he makes me angry, and it never fails to enrage him. He has ideas about what a special forces soldier should be. He forgets that we’re not special forces. We’re something far worse. And me, I might be the worst of us all.

“So, what happened to her?” The doctor prompts him before he can throw a hissy fit.

“She fell from the training course,” Tyko explains.