「 The Professor & I 」VOLUME II

(258) Neural Inhibitor

Charles' POV

Waking up to pain was, honestly, not uncommon for us. Plagued by a series of chronic ailments, it was only normal that the possibilities of twinges and strains lingered over our heads, taunting our ageing bodies on a daily basis.

Usually, the troubles were manageable and after all these years, surely, we had been accustomed. They evolved into pure white noise we had mastered to ignore but the intense tingling I groggily rose to was atypically acute, with the poignant searing burning perpetually throughout my left arm.

The environment was dark, but not enough to mask its familiarity, dreadfully stark.

Residing on my head was a heavy device, pinned strictly to the surface of my skull by six mounting points circulating both temples, the center of my forehead and three behind. The faint eerie tint of cobalt glowing from the end of each prong illuminated the ominous surroundings sparingly, but my retinas soon adapted themselves to the grim.

While mentally prepared to welcome the atrocious sights, the view that materialized was awfully more heartbreaking than I could ever imagine, not to mention bear.

Restrained in chains despite her defenseless state, Lynn was tethered in metal bindings, viscous drops of blood still trickling down her wounded head. Only marginally concealing the opened gash was her messily dangling blonde fringe clasped intermittently in brown, not interlacing with the fresh auburn that graced the rest of her mane but tainted with stale clots mated intricately amongst her greasy strands.

Trapped miserably under thick, rigid cylinders of rust were her poor wrists, frail and bare. Bruises so severe, they stood out obvious in the shadows, could readily be identified around on her already impaired hand, considerably swollen and marred with uneven patches of blue and black throughout the area of her forearm made vulnerable without its guard.

Breathing weakly with her head hanging lifelessly, she was definitely unawake but clad in only her flimsy white tank now soiled by unknown gunk, her lean body shivered in the biting cold nonetheless, rattling the old shackles with her minute vibrations.

There was no telling how icy her limbs had become under these harsh conditions, going unprotected without her coat and shoes, but those that piled up sloppily against mine were likewise not exempted from the reflexive shudder, with her exposed feet trembling unwittingly against my senseless thighs.

Lynn, I called softly and the lights ornamenting my helmet flashed brighter as a stinging pulse simultaneously zapped my head but she displayed no appreciable response.

Lynn, can you hear me? I probed again, anxiously, triggering another tidal wave of discomfort in my brain.

Aggravated from its earlier occurrence, the irritation induced seemed to amplify in correlating magnitudes with the length of my telepathic message, similarly stimulating an enhanced gleam from the peculiar headpiece. Expectedly, the cool luminescence and sharp aches diminished with reduced psychic activity, essentially tarnishing to its original harmless intensities when I completely idled my brain.

Conceivably, the peculiar contraption was designed to counter any anomalous cerebral outputs, releasing surges of shocking electricity at every detected instance, and perhaps precluded any unorthodox transmission or reception of information as my mind was incredibly silent.

Although skeptical of the amount of my hardship Lynn was forced to endure given her wholly unconscious mode, I was taking no chances and resorted to more traditional methods instead.

"Lynn," I whispered, energetically but maintained a hushed tone to avert drawing unwanted attention from our merciless abductors.

"Lynn, can you hear me?" I prodded edgily, mindlessly leaning towards her, and she gasped in panic, jolting up to the jangly clatter of corroded linkages echoing deafeningly around the enclosed unit.