Well, after another busy week comes another story. I...kind of burned out on Sunset in Tuscany for now. I don't know--it just didn't inspire me at the moment, and I got blocked on it (yes, I write a lot, but I do suffer from blocks
). This story is more intense, so I rated it R just in case. It won't get too graphic or violent for the forum, but just be aware that this is a darker thriller.
Oh, and feel free to comment--it helps me improve my writing.
Dark Visions Part One
Rated: R
The dark forest spun wildly as MacGyver ran, creating blurred silhouettes. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew he had to run. He stumbled several times over fallen tree trunks and exposed roots, low branches scraping and cutting into his bare skin. Panic seized him and he ran faster, looking in every direction, trying to make sense of the confusing surroundings that disoriented him. Gasping for breath, his heart hammering with adrenaline and fear, he continued, not allowing his exhaustion to overwhelm him. The darkness concealed a hill just ahead, and once he reached it he slipped, sliding all the way down it until he reached a highway. A car with headlights blazing tore down the road, nearly running him over before he could stop himself and get back on the side of the road to safety. The driver of the car didn’t see him and continued to pass into the night.
MacGyver cowered in fear when he saw the headlights, curling into a tight, protective fetal position. The chill of the evening air assaulted his naked, bruised, and cut body, causing him to shiver violently and hold himself tighter for any available warmth. He looked around his strange surroundings, still not seeing anything that could help him make sense of what happened or where he was. Brief moments of clarity would come to him, but they ended quickly, leaving him still feeling lost and bewildered. He couldn’t even be sure of who he was. All his thoughts jumbled together until they became nonsense.
More headlights approached, this time slowing. MacGyver squinted against their glare, staring at them uncertainly. The driver of the car got out and approached him cautiously, staring at his naked, abused form in shock. The man kept his distance, unsure what to do.
“My God,” he said, still staring at MacGyver’s pitiful condition. “What happened to you?”
MacGyver looked up at him, still confused. He could barely understand the man’s words. “H…help…help…” he whispered. “Help me…please…help…” his words trailed away as all his remaining available energy failed him, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
“You need an ambulance,” the man said.
He rushed over to his car and pulled out a blanket that he had covering his rear seats that was usually reserved for his dog on car trips and carefully covered MacGyver’s still form with it. He watched MacGyver momentarily, feeling sympathy for the unconscious man. At first, he wasn’t going to pull over when he saw him, thinking that he was some kind of maniac, his disheveled and naked appearance making him a ghastly, horrifying sight, especially on a remote, mountainous stretch of highway. As he further debated with himself over what to do, he decided that the man was in serious need of assistance and decided to take a chance, allowing his intuition to guide him.
“Hang on,” he said to MacGyver. “I’m calling for help. You’re going to be fine.”
***
“How is he?” Pete Thornton asked, rushing down the long hospital corridors with the doctor, Nikki following them. They were in the middle of a meeting at The Phoenix Foundation when they received the call.
“I’ll be honest with you. He’s not doing well,” the doctor said. “He was found in a highly disoriented state, completely nude and injured. The lab results on his blood work showed a high amount of several psychotropic drugs that could have been used to induce such a state. Judging from his injuries—lacerations, deep cuts, bruises, injection sites—he appears to have sustained them under some form of torture or duress.”
“Oh my God,” Nikki said, exchanging concerned looks with Pete.
“We’re lucky that one of the nurses here could identify him as one of your men from a prior visit, Mr. Thornton,” the doctor said, “otherwise, we would have been unable to reach you. He had no identification on him. As I said, he was completely stripped.”
“Who would do this to him?” Pete asked, anger in his voice.
“I don’t know, but he’s lucky to be alive,” the doctor said.
They continued to race through the seemingly unending labyrinth of corridors through the hospital.
“Where are we going? Where are you keeping him?” Pete asked. “I don’t think I’ve been in this part of the hospital before.”
“It’s the psychiatric wing, Mr. Thornton,” the doctor said. “After what he’s been through…well, it’s a precaution. He could be highly traumatized when he regains consciousness and starts to remember what happened to him.”
Both Pete and Nikki felt their stomachs turn in disgust, already picturing the appalling damage done to MacGyver. When they finally reached the room where he was kept and actually saw him, they felt even worse, a mixture of anger and sadness filling them. He looked so beaten and fragile. He was pale and much thinner than when they last saw him, which had been months earlier. Immediately, Pete rushed to his side, gently taking his hand. Nikki stood on the other side of the bed, looking at MacGyver with sympathy.
“I suggest you take some care not to frighten him should he awaken,” the doctor said. “Reassure him with your voices.”
“Can we have a moment alone with him?” Pete asked, doing his best to stifle the tears that were moistening his eyes.
“Of course,” the doctor said. “I’ll be right outside should you need anything.”
Nikki and Pete watched and waited until the doctor left and closed the door before speaking.
“I don’t understand Pete,” Nikki said. “MacGyver was supposed to be on assignment. How could this have happened to him?”
Pete sighed, gently rubbing the back of MacGyver’s hand with his thumb to soothe him. “I wish I knew,” he said.
Nikki stared at MacGyver. “Well, he does have a long list of enemies,” she said. “I suggest we investigate them and see who might have wanted to prevent him from going on this assignment.”
“We will,” Pete said. “Right now, I want him to know that we’re here for him.” He looked down at MacGyver. “Mac, it’s Pete,” he said. “Can you hear me? It’s all right pal, I’m here for you.” At the sound of Pete’s voice, MacGyver began to stir and moan. Pete smiled and looked up at Nikki. “He’s waking up,” he said.
The expression on MacGyver’s face turned into a frown and his movements became more violent.
“Something’s wrong,” Nikki said. “Look at him.”
“He’s probably remembering what happened, just as the doctor said,” Pete said. He looked back down at MacGyver, taking his hand again. “Mac, it’s all right, you’re safe now,” he said. “It’s me. It’s Pete.”
The mention of his name made MacGyver clench Pete’s hand with strength that Pete didn’t know he had in his weakened state. His dark eyes shot open, wide and haunted with fear as he looked at Pete. His struggles became more intense.
“No,” he said, staring at Pete in horror, as if terrified of him. “No, stay away from me!” He shouted, wrenching his hand free from Pete’s.
“MacGyver! It’s me! Don’t be afraid!” Pete said.
“No, stay away,” MacGyver said, curling up into a ball again and pulling away from Pete, gathering the bed sheets tightly in his hands and pulling them close to him as if to be protected, his whole body trembling.
“MacGyver, it’s Pete,” Nikki said. “He won’t hurt you.”
MacGyver looked at her, his expression like that of a wild, frightened boy. “Tell him to stay away from me,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Tell him not to hurt me anymore. Please.”
“MacGyver, you think I hurt you?” Pete asked, stunned.
“Pete, he’s still confused,” Nikki said. “He’s probably just reliving his torture in some kind of flashback. I’m sure he’s not implying that you are responsible for what happened to him.”
“Tell him to stay away,” MacGyver said, moving closer to Nikki, wincing as every part of his sore body caused him excruciating pain. “Tell him to stop!”
“MacGyver, it’s me,” Pete said, moving closer to him even as he tried to shrink away. “I’m your friend.”
He gently tried to touch him when he released a loud scream in fear. Tears were rolling down his eyes and he began thrashing around more violently. Alerted by the scream, the doctor and several hospital staff rushed into the room, working to sedate MacGyver.
“What happened?” The doctor asked.
“I don’t know,” Pete said. “He woke up and began accusing me…oh God; he thinks I’m responsible, that I hurt him!”
“Pete, you don’t know that for sure!” Nikki said.
“He’s having a relapse,” the doctor said, looking at his terrified patient with deep concern. “I want you to stand back while we try to subdue him.”
All Pete and Nikki could do was watch helplessly as MacGyver desperately fought against the nurses and hospital staff that were holding him down, trying to prepare him for another shot of sedative.
“NO!” MacGyver shouted. “NO! Leave me alone! Stop! Please, stop!”
Finally, they were able to reach a good vein and inject him with the sedative. MacGyver stared at them as if he had been betrayed. Slowly, he began to relax, his cries in protest turning into weak whimpers and pleas until he finally went back to sleep. Restraints were placed on him.
“Is that really necessary?” Nikki asked.
“It’s only to prevent him from harming himself when he awakens again,” the doctor said.
“I can’t believe this,” Pete said, staring at his friend. “What just happened? He blames me, almost as if he thinks I’m the one who tortured him. Did you see that?”
“Pete, he’s not coherent right now,” Nikki said. “He couldn’t honestly think that you’d harm him.”
“But didn’t you see? He shrank away from the sound of my voice, not yours! He looked to you for protection from me! If he was having a relapse, wouldn’t he think both of us were his torturers?”
“Maybe,” Nikki said, “but not necessarily. Come on, Pete, calm down! I know this situation looks dire right now, and we all care about MacGyver, but you’re worrying about it far too much! MacGyver doesn’t think you’re his torturer! He couldn’t! Once he becomes more lucid, he’ll recognize you as his friend.”
“I hope so,” Pete said, watching his sleeping friend sadly. “I have a strange feeling, though. Something isn’t right.”
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver