This process repeated itself every-time I tried to sleep, or even rest. I do not know for how long this happened, all I do know is that by the time I was taken out of the cell for the first round of experiments I was thankful, and at least half mad. The experiments were even worse, as every inch of my being was poked, prodded and tested for whatever elusive answer the minister was seeking. After weeks of this kind of treatment I was broken, unable to fathom a complete thought. I was little more than a wounded animal by the time they had started their third round of experiments. Obviously the first two weeks had not provided the data they needed, so they switched gears and started to allow me time to sleep. This was a blessing, especially after the trauma they had put me through. The only down-side being that I had to wake up, and no more than four hours was allowed at any given time. For how long this continued I honestly could not tell you. Weeks yes, months quite possibly. Every so often the Minister would visit, they hate in his voice growing steadily with each visit. This was the only reconciliation I had during those months of abuse and torture. He was not getting what he wanted, and it was a balm to my wounds. If I had been able to form words and speak during his interrogations that were little more than tirades I am sure that the hate in my voice would have matched his, or even dwarfed it. The only thing that kept me halfway sane during that time was the knowledge that I would somehow escape this place, this prison that I found myself in. If not, I never would be able to travel back into the past, and none of this would ever have occurred. It’s not like I didn’t try to escape. Even a rabid animal has the sense to try and do that. The cell they had made for me was sturdy, and the heavily ionized walls did their job of suppressing my quantum abilities quite well. That coupled with the flashing lights and loud discordant noises whenever I tried to rest outside of schedule also contributed to my inability to leap. The shell of a body I inhabited was weak, so that ruled out any physical attempt at escaping as well. One of the medical tests had ruled that physically I had the body of an eighty-two year old man, though I was truly less than half that age. For two more years I held on, until nature finally had its way with me. Despite all of their measures and means to find whatever secret they thought I possessed it availed to naught. It was one I would carry to the grave, and beyond. I went during one of the few rest periods they allowed me, deep in slumber, away from all of the aches and pains that my body held for me. It was a good way to die, to detach and slip away from the mortal coil, in much the same way I had practiced when I was younger. The body stiffened as I left it and floated silently upward. Klaxon like alarms sounded throughout the building and cell, to try and disturb me from my rest. If I had features to grin I would have. Instead I continued my ascent upwards, until I encountered the ceiling, which crackled and thrummed with energy as I approached it.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Jun 2013 11:30:12 +0000
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