The next time Teresa enters the red room of pig’s blood and scattered bones, she is allowed to enter using her own two feet. Like before, felon Norris is seated on his bone throne. The only difference is that the burly convict now wears sharp blades attached to his wrists by metal bands. Dr. Wessinger’s voice booms over the loudspeaker.
“Ah…Yes, Dr. Boyd. I see you’ve notice the upgrade to Mr. Norris’ costume,” Wessinger mocks. “We’ve been running your dreams through the cleaner and sharpening them up a bit. From what we can tell…Your dream lover wears a similar array on his wrist. We want to give you the most realistic experience possible.”
Dr. Wessinger follows up her joke with a cruel laugh. Across the large space, felon Norris rises to his feet. The vile man licks his lips and stalks toward Teresa.
“Now…I don’t want you to really stab the doctor, Mr. Norris,” Wessinger says. “Just cut her a little. Give her the simulation of pain. Maybe it will jog some of her memories loose.”
Teresa backs away and prepares to run. Her eyes dart in the direction she intends to go and felon Norris intercepts her. Teresa shrieks as Norris spins her around and pulls her against him. He presses one of his amateurishly crafted wrist blades to her throat and sniffs the hair at the back of her head.
“You smell so good!” Norris growls in her ear. “I could almost eat you!”
Teresa rams an elbow into Norris’ stomach and attempts to pull away. The large man maintains his grip on Dr. Boyd, pawing at the imitation mesh suit covering her body. Teresa kicks, screams, and attempts to bite the monster brute. He only laughs. Shoving her away from him, he watches as she sprawls on the floor.
Teresa grabs a large bone from the floor and swings it through the air. Her idea is to ward the big man off as much as she can. If she manages to wound him, with the sharp end of the bone, she will not stop stabbing him until he is dead. Her mind made up, Teresa hunches like a football player and tightly grips the large bone in her hands.
Norris casually reaches to a pack on his back and removes a long chain. Teresa’s heart drops as she realizes her advantage may be gone. Norris swings the chain through the air and slowly approaches Teresa. The former scientist straightens up but does not drop the bone. The chain connects with the side of her head and Teresa crumbles to the floor. She moans and cradles her head.
Norris reaches where Teresa lies and drops down on one knee. He grins down at the frightened doctor. Touching the injured side of her face, Norris feigns repentance.
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“Sorry about that, doc!” Norris. “Guess, I’ll need to be more careful in the future. Don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours.”
Teresa squeezes her eyes shut as Norris’ fingers encircle her throat.
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Twice more, Teresa enters the red room. Each time, Norris’ weapons of torture are upgraded. Each time, the room is filled with more and more sadistic devices and touches of pure evil.
Teresa lies down on the bed in her cell. She has just endured another round of dream experimentation. Dr. Boyd stares fixedly up at the ceiling and wishes for death.
Imposter N-Vorl’s words come through her consciousness like the nightmare they are. His hands suggestively slide up her back, his warm tongue licking the blood running down her chin and neck. He rubs her stomach with his free hand, inching further up. Grasping Teresa’s face, he tilts her head back in order to lick the flesh of her throat.
“I will not let you die, Teresa!” N-Vorl’s imposter says in a deep haunted voice.
Baring his teeth, and burying them into Teresa’s throat, the imposter slakes his bloodthirst. Teresa shakes off the remnants of her nightmare daydream and buries her face in the blankets. The cell is filled with barely audible sobs.
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Later that evening
Teresa tosses her gown out of the bathroom door and whirls away from orderly Stevens. The orderly gives her a smug look.
“Bet you like going rounds with old Norris, don’t you?” Stevens calls to Teresa, as she makes her way toward the showers. “Want to go a few rounds with me?”
Teresa freezes mid-stride. In her mind, she rushes orderly Stevens and knocks him to the ground—biting, kicking, and clawing. In reality, she knows she is outmatched. In size and strength. Not to mention, she is without clothes on. Stevens is hoping for a reason to accost her. She won’t give him one. The entire time Teresa washes up, she watches the shower door.
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In her cell once again, Teresa runs her hands along the edge of the bed. She is looking for anything which might be used as a weapon. However, the bed was created using a carbonized steel caste. There are no welded or screwed on parts—only one solid chunk of metal.
Defeated, Teresa angrily throws herself backward on the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. Tears stream down her cheeks as she turns over on her left side, facing the wall. She crosses both arms over her chest, in an attempt to console herself and stem the sobs racking her body.
Holding herself in such a way brings memories flooding back. Richard, her body pressed firmly against the front of his uniform, as he kissed her so sweetly. Harold, as he planted a friendly kiss on her cheek, before being cut down by a yautja shoulder weapon. Theodore McAvoy, his grubby hand caressing her thigh, and his forced sloppy kiss. N-Vorl, his mouth warm and inviting under her chin.
Frustrated, Teresa opens her eyes and bolts upward in bed. She scoots toward the wall and pulls her legs up against her chest. The tears have yet to stop flowing.