Post by Morgan Payne on Jan 19, 2020 15:42:30 GMT -8
January 18th, 2020
11:34PM
“There’s literally no advice I can give you because it’s gonna be you that you have to face down.”
Van Owen told her when she had asked about the next step in her training.
“All your little flaws and insecurities. He’s gonna give you a drink. You drink it. He makes sure you don’t die. The rest? You ever see IT 2?”
“Nah. I fuckin’ hate clowns.”
“Where the fucking clown traps their ass in their personal hellscape? That’s gonna be you. The abstract fears. The real ones. Shit you got guilt about.”
“So I gotta do what? Tell it none of it’s real?”
“Oh. It’s fucking real. All of it is.”
“A mental gauntlet.”
“The gauntlet was about never giving up. This is about letting go.”
“Letting go?”
“Yup.”
“How do I let go of guilt?”
“Good question.”
“That’s...helpful….”
“Didn’t say I had answers.”
January 19th, 2020
12:00PM
12:00PM
Morgan Payne sat on the edge of her bed in the most comfortable clothes she had that she’d brought with her. A simple pair of short shorts and an Iron Maiden t-shirt that had been in her possession for so many years that the fabric felt like a soft yet sturdy sort of tissue paper against her body. It was one she usually bummed around The Castle in back home when she didn’t plan on going anywhere. Her hands were folded in her lap, save for when reached over to take a drink from the gallon of water she’d been chugging on. Perhaps it was a little overboard on Connor’s instructions to drink lots of water. She set the jug back down and looked across the room by the door where Van Owen sat, waiting for Connor to appear so as to assist him with what needed to be done during the process. When Morgan looked over, however, she caught his eyes quickly moving away from her legs and up at her with a forced innocent smile. Morgan stared back flatly and threw him the middle finger.
Van Owen laughed. “If and when, sweetheart. If and when.” He made a bring it motion with his hands and Morgan rolled her eyes. Van Owen just laughed again. She couldn’t help but smirk just a little. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was wild and unpredictable. He liked to crack into her phone just to mess with her. In the process, however, he’d taught her more about the device and how he could crack into it. For as loony as Van Owen came off to people, the man knew his shit. He’d been one hell of a sparring partner, too. Sharpening Morgan’s skills even more with different tips. He was also the one who told her about the phase of training she was waiting to undergo now. She figured she should thank him for that. She wanted to thank him and Connor for everything.
Thank me when you wake up.
Morgan looked towards the doorway at the sound of footsteps and Connor MacNamara walked into the room, carrying a glass with a dark red liquid lightly sloshing around inside it.
“Here. Drink.” He said, handing the glass out to her. Morgan reached for it and barely touched the glass before he pulled it back and looked at her. “You know what’s going to happen.”
“I got an idea….” Morgan said, looking up at him as he stood before her where she sat.
“And you’re certain you’re ready?” Connor asked, watching her sharply. She could tell there was a part of him that wanted to wait before putting her through this but she insisted.
“...I’m ready….” Morgan said, watching the man’s eyes with hers. She couldn’t read him but she knew he could read her. Connor sighed and handed the glass to her again. Morgan took it and brought it up to her nose. A ripe, fruity scent wafted into her nose. One she was familiar with. She looked quizzically at Connor. “Wine?”
“Not the wine. It’s what’s in the wine. Now, if you’re ready….” Connor said. Morgan brought the glass up to her lips.
“Spoiler! It’s just roofies!” Van Owen quipped from where he sat. He laughed as Morgan downed the glass of wine and shot him the middle finger again. When she emptied it, she handed it back to Connor and he nodded to her jug. She drank another huge gulp of it.
“Now lay back.” Connor instructed. “It won’t be long before it takes effect.”
Morgan laid back on the mattress. It was her own guest room that Connor had assigned to her when she arrived on the first day. She believed Connor when he said it wouldn’t take long. She didn’t expect it to take effect within the first couple of minutes. Everything gradually began to slow down as she stared up at the ceiling. This was after her entire body went numb. She didn’t know if she should panic or not. In a slow, blurry motion, she saw Connor come into her line of sight. Saw his hand reach up towards her face to lift her eyelid and check her eyes. She didn’t feel him touch her, however. She saw Van Owen slowly shift by and start setting up the medical equipment. IVs. Monitors. She knew she was being hooked up but she couldn’t feel a thing. Everything got hazier and more difficult to distinguish. Morgan felt her eyelids grow heavy to the point she could no longer keep them open. They fell shut and she drifted out of consciousness as whatever it was mixed in with the wine took full effect. Morgan closed her eyes and was out….
To Be Continued….
