Chapter Four
Miles
We entered an elevator and went down a floor to the basement. The guards were silent as they led me along an empty corridor to a door. A buzz sounded, and we passed through into a room with chairs.
“Take a seat,” the guard said. “They’ll be with you shortly.”
He took up a position by the door while his colleague left.
This was it. The fanfare was over and I was about to start my new life. I was still excited and those butterflies from before were there, only they’d changed, metamorphosed in reverse, back to being caterpillars that wriggled around in my belly.
A woman in a white uniform exited from another door.
“Paperwork?” she asked and the guard handed her a folder.
She glanced at it, then down at me. “Follow me.”
I stood and trailed after her into a room. The air was cold and the room smelled faintly of disinfectant. She pointed to a chair. “Sit.”
There was another set of footsteps behind us and I glanced over my shoulder. Not the guard but a man in a uniform identical to the woman's.
“A processing, huh? Haven’t had one of those in a few weeks,” he said. I took a seat, hoping someone would explain to me what would happen next. I didn’t really like surprises.
“He’s still in uniform,” the woman complained. “If they’re going to play dress up with them, why can’t they undo the process when they’re finished?”
She moved in front of me.
“Stand up.”
Her words were clipped, her expression unhappy. I hurried to comply with her instructions.
“Take off that jacket.”
I undid the buttons, my fingers fumbling with them in my haste to disrobe. She scoffed but didn’t speak, snatching the jacket from me when I held it out.
“The shirt, too.”
Another set of buttons, my traitorous fingers letting me down twice.
“Shoes and socks.”
I complied, my toes cold on the tiled floor.
“Pants.”
I hesitated.
“Pants,” she said again, tapping her foot impatiently.
With reluctance, I stepped out of them, handing them over. It was a relief when she walked away, content with having stripped me down to my boxers and undershirt. There was a chill in the room and I shivered as I sat.
The man was over in the corner behind my right shoulder. I couldn’t see what he was doing and the sounds I heard weren’t enlightening. His quick footsteps crossed the room and then his hand clamped down on my shoulder and I felt a sharp pinch on the top of my arm. I turned my head just in time to see a needle withdraw and he let me go.
“What was that?” I asked, my hand going to my shoulder, rubbing the injection site.
“Just something to make the processing go a little easier,” was all he said.
The woman returned.
“He doped up?” she asked.
“Just now,” he replied.
I started to feel lightheaded, the world rippling a little before my eyes. But I was still very awake, still conscious of how little I knew about what was going on around me.
“Put your hands on the arms of the chair,” the woman said. I did, looking down at them as my vision rippled again. It was all very strange.
The woman reached under the left-hand side and pull a strap up and over my arm, securing me to the chair. She did the same with my right arm as I stared uncomprehendingly at it.
“What-” I started to ask.
“Just sit back and stay still,” she snapped. “We don’t have time for your questions. Anything you need to know will be told to you as and when it’s necessary.”
Her hand on my shoulder urged me back into the chair. I felt myself start to tremble, but there was a strong sense of detachment from my fear as if it was someone else’s emotion and I was just watching it from afar.
Even as I heard the buzz of the electric razor, my brain still hadn’t quite caught up. It was only as clumps of my hair fell into my lap that it started to sink in. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, was it?
After they shaved my head, they ushered me across the room, removed the rest of my clothes and pushed me under the spray of a shower. I didn’t think I’d ever been naked in front of another adult but the humiliation and shame were once again distant.
This wasn’t happening to me. This was someone else’s nightmare. I was just a spectator. Because I was an active Omega. I was going to do my duty. I was going to make my father proud.
They gave me a thin gown to wear that did nothing to chase away the chill. I tried asking another question, but they ignored me, leading me along a corridor, the floor cold beneath my feet. The pushed me through a door labeled Medical 1.
Inside was an examination room where a doctor and nurse were already waiting. I tried to backpedal, to get out the door, but the man behind me pushed me forward.
When I turned, the door was already shut, and he was standing in front of it, arms folded, his expression a challenge. I turned back to face the doctor, who got to his feet, pulling sterile gloves on over his hands.
“Up onto the bed now.”
There were no options, no escape. This was what I’d signed up for, wasn’t it?
Afterward, two staff escorted me out and along a different corridor. The top of my arm ached, just below my shoulder. They’d done something to it and it had hurt.
The place seemed like a maze of rooms and I could only wonder what horror awaited me next. We stopped in front of a solid metal door, and one of them swiped their card. The door swung open. It was dark inside, the light from the corridor barely penetrating it, and a rush of cold air slipped out.
Before I could speak or wonder, their hands were on my back, undoing the ties on the flimsy gown I wore. They pulled it down my arms and off. Then their hands were on my back and they shoved me forward into the room. I tripped and went down hard onto my knees with a cry. The door slammed shut behind me, throwing the room in inky blackness.
I stayed on my knees, waiting and hoping that my eyes would adjust to whatever low level of light was in the room. Only the pitch blackness didn’t abate and no one turned on a light. The glow of my Omega mark stood out brightly but it wasn’t much help when it came to my surroundings.
My knees felt shaky as I got to my feet, feeling my way carefully across the floor until I came to the wall. Walls had light switches, didn’t they? I just needed to find mine.
I found the door and discovered there was no handle on this side. And though I scoured the wall the whole way around the room, there was no switch.
Crawling into a corner, I curled up and tried to hold onto as much body warmth as I could. Why were they doing this to me? I’d come here willingly, I was ready to do my duty. What did they want from me?