Chapter 103. Suffering
In the brightly lit corridors, the black-robed Meeh'eks held Charles in their tight grasp and moved forward. The captain of the Narwhale wore a calm expression tainted with a hint of melancholy.
He never expected that they would kill Salin just like that. It wasn't Salin's death that saddened him but rather the indifference the Meeh'eks showed toward their lives.
Their survival in this place was solely dependent on the roles they were assigned and the fates they met hundreds of years ago.
"Phew, lucky we got the script of 134. If we had gotten the role of 704, we would have probably ended up in dismembered pieces," Richard mentally muttered to himself in relief.
The corners of Charles' lips lifted into a cold, icy smile as he asked, "Do you consider this to be some good news?"
"What's so good about this? We need to find a way to get out of here. If this continues, who knows where we will end up dead in their pretend game!"
Charles' gaze darted toward the black-robed Meeh'eks that were dragging him forward. He could deal with the two holding him in their grasps, but killing them might cause more trouble than it was worth. He had to devise a different strategy to escape.
"Keep a mental note of our path. I will confirm our location on the map and try to identify where the Foundation keeps all the test subjects captive," Charles instructed Richard.
Since Salin had managed to break out with such a strategy, he could definitely replicate it with the same result. Moreover, he had an advantage over Salin. He had experience in Laboratory 3 and was also in possession of the map of Laboratory 2. This was his golden opportunity.
"Fine, do your thing," Richard grudgingly responded.
One after another, Charles pinpointed the locations where the test subjects were held captive in his mind and matched it with the map's details in his memory.
Charles wanted to physically mark down the location, but the reality of his circumstances afforded him of no such luxury.
Clank!
Charles' limbs were shackled to the steel frame once more, and cold iron chains bounded his body again.
Looking at the Meeh'ek behind the glass, Charles let out a resigned sigh. He had a rudimentary plan in mind, but there was no way he could execute anything in his current predicament.
Fortunately, he didn't need to worry about his death in the short term. The real 134 was still in Sottom. If she had survived so many years till date, the Foundation clearly didn't execute her when they were still around.
The white-robed Meeh'ek entered the spacious room, and its robe now speckled with droplets of blood. It stood next to Charles and mumbled some monologue.
Without needing to guess, Charles knew that it had to be threatening 134. With a cold glint in his eyes, he watched the silent drama that had unfolded in the past.
"@*%&;!!" The white-robed Meeh'ek's tone suddenly escalated into agitation. 134 had to have said something that infuriated it, and it turned to instruct its subordinate next to it.
A Meeh'ek stormed into the room with a whip in its hand. Charles instantly knew what awaited him. He clenched his teeth and took a deep breath.
Crack!
The whip drenched in black liquid struck Charles’ healing wounds. Crimson blood seeped out and dripped to the ground.
After receiving dozens of lashes, Charles was reduced to an unrecognizable bloody mess. The excruciating pain that followed made him wince and groan involuntarily.
The pain intensified as time passed, but he had already experienced this one, so the experience had gotten bearable.
However, the white-robed Meeh'ek seemed to have no intention of letting Charles off. With his head heavy and in a daze, Charles noticed a black-robed Meeh'ek approaching him. The Meeh'ek held a monstrous worm as thick as a forearm and was covered in dark, velvety fur.
The bug was placed on Charles. As it writhed across Charles' skin, it shed its fur and fell into Charles' wounds. The moment the velvety fur came into contact with fresh blood, they seemed to have come alive as they quivered and burrowed themselves into the wounds.
Charles felt an itch spreading from his painful wounds.
Initially, it felt like a mere tickle, but in a few seconds, it escalated into an unbearable, crawling itch that engulfed his entire body.
The unbearable sensation was driving him crazy.
"AHHHHHHH!!!" Charles' face contorted in excruciating agony as he strained against his restraints, and his veins throbbed prominently. He tried to claw at his own skin, but the chains held him immobile. The intolerable itch was more tormenting than the severest pain; the sensation was worse than death itself.
Just then, the Meeh'eks surrounding him abruptly staggered as they clutched their ears and collapsed onto the floor.
The white-robed Meeh'ek stuffed a ball gag into Charles' mouth, effectively turning his pained screams into muffled whimpers. The creatures then steadied themselves.
It wasn't Charles' scream that they were fearful of. They were merely reenacting the scene where the employees of the Foundation had been affected by 134's haunting melody. Every one of them was living in the past.
The agonizing torture lasted for two relentless hours. Charles was left battered and broken, both mentally and physically. His frenzied struggles against his restraints had been so violent that they had torn away the skin and flesh on his limbs, leaving his bones exposed.
Despite his condition, the Meeh'ek seemed to have no intention of sparing Charles. A capsule was forced into Charles' mouth, and the gruesome wounds on his body rapidly healed.
Crack!
A fresh whip mark appeared on Charles' torso.
A new round of misery had begun.
Charles had no idea how much time had passed since the misery started. The excruciating pain and itch had consumed his mind, and his consciousness had plummeted into chaos. Only one conviction remained—He would not die here. He would definitely survive and escape.
After a full day and night, the white-robed Meeh'ek was evidently exhausted and helplessly waved its hand. Charles was released from his bindings, and another capsule was forced into his mouth. He was then dragged away by a black-robed Meeh'ek.
While in a daze, Charles was jolted awake by the sound of a slap.
"Hey! Wake up! Stop sleeping. Time to get down to work. They’ve stopped tormenting us." Richard controlled his right hand to repeatedly slap his right cheek.
"Where is this..." Charles scanned his surroundings and found himself lying on a soft, pink wooden bed.
An array of plush toys was within the room. There was even a brand-new princess dress on the small table in front of him.
"They seemed to have realized that a harsh beating on 134 won't work and changed to a softer approach," Richard commented.
Charles examined himself and realized that his wounds were all gone. Clearly, the Meeh'eks had used something on him to completely heal his wounds.
134 had relentlessly hunted him down, but he briefly felt a pang of sympathy for the little girl. The torment was unbearable for him, even though he was a grown man. He could only imagine how much worse it had been for a child.
Charles composed himself and leaned on the bed.
"Do you know our exact location?" Charles asked.
"I figured it out earlier. I was still conscious when they were moving us here. Look at this," Richard exclaimed as he lifted the bedsheet up. The soft blanket underneath had been violently torn apart, and a detailed map of Laboratory 2 had been drawn on the fabric beneath it.
"We are here," Richard said as he pointed to a corner on the map. "It's not too far from where we were previously held. If we don't run into any obstacles, we’ll get there in five minutes at full speed."
Charles scanned the map carefully. He couldn't afford to wait any longer. God knew what the white-robed Meeh'ek had in store for 134 to force her into submission. The temporary freedom was a rare and precious opportunity.
"Here, here, and here." Charles pointed at a few spots on the map before saying, "According to the map, these are where the test subjects are held. If we want to escape, we have to set them free."
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