Sam awoke the morning after his first interview in his new home; in his jail cell. The dim soft yellow lights of the two lamps in the room filled the eerie corners of the room. His mouth was parched as he laid in a pool of sweat. ‘Another nightmare’ he thought to himself. It wasn’t shocking to him that the nightmares returned. He hadn’t had to relive that horrible event in so long. Especially in such agonizing detail. He grabbed a water bottle from his little fridge and drank the entire thing. He slumped off the bed and grabbed a clean change of clothes and sauntered off to the bathroom. He started the shower, got in immediately and enjoyed the cold water slowly evolving to warm with his head tipped back, eyes closed tightly he beged his mind to stop replaying the events of his time in that void. ‘In the void’ he thought to himself. It was a dream right? Or nightmare more accurately, wasn’t it?

Exiting the bathroom, breakfast awaited him on his little desk. Cold eggs and sausage links stared up at him. Sam reciprocated the gesture and blankly stared back. “Better eat up, long day today.” Someone said as they walked by his room and snickered to themself as they walked away. ‘The door.’’Sam thought to himself. ‘It’s open!’ He walked over to the door placing his hand on the frame and leaning out into the hallway being sure to keep his feet planted specifically still in his cell. He could run for it now. He could escape this prison and just keep running. He would be a wanted man. Hunted for the rest of his life and probably everyone would think it was responsible for everything that happened that day. Sam stepped back into his room completely. ‘This is what they want. They want me to run. They want me to try and escape. Then they have their 'bomber' or whatever they’re calling it and I get all the blame.’ His hands were balled into frustrated fists and his knuckles a pale white. Sam calmed himself. ‘No, I’m the fucking victim here.’ Sam thought. ‘There has to be another way out of here. I can’t just run from the government for the rest of my life!’ In defeat Sam sat at his desk and ate his cold food. He watched the open doorway the entire time.

What felt like hours passed, it was hard to gauge time when you had no access to clocks. It was especially difficult when you felt like you needed to punish yourself and sit in silent introspection. A guard entered the room and said promptly “Come with me.” Sam stood from the couch and walked with the guard down the long halfway again. He wasn’t led into the far room this time, instead he was placed in a room a few doors away from the end’s interrogation room. A medical chair sat to the right slightly off center of the room. “Have a seat, the doctor will see you in a few minutes.” Sam was relieved this wasn’t an interrogation this was a medical visit about his injuries. Sure he was walking better but there was a dull pain that continued to live with him. He sat in the chair and waited. The room was small; the chair he sat in faced the door and cabinets sat on the floor to his right and a small sink tucked away in the corner. Adorned above them were wall mounted cabinets as well with a poster about the importance of flu shots on the far left cabinet door. Sam read the small red box hanging on the wall between the cabinets. “Medical waste only!” it read in bright friendly lettering. Everything seemed normal to Sam and he allowed himself to calm even more at the familiar site. A light dangled above him on a boom arm allowing the doctor to adjust specifically where he was looking. Even the hum of the fluorescent lights were comforting as their nostalgic thrum brought him far away and back in time.

The door to the small room opened and a man in a white coat entered along with agent Harlow. The door wasn’t closed until a third man, Sam presumed was the nurse, followed behind wearing olive drab colored scrubs, with a tray of tubes and needles shut; the door behind him. The nurse squeezed between the white coated man and agent Harlow and walked up to Sam. He placed Sam’s left hand on the armrest of the chair and placed a strap around his wrist and tightened it down. He repeated the process on the right side. Sam let out a nervous laugh and said “Uh, hey! Uh, This isn’t really necessary. I’m ok with needles and shots and stuff. I mean I got pretty messed up so I’ve had quite a few over the past weeks.” The nurse pulled the restraint taut as Sam finished talking and bent down to secure his feet. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, his feet were yanked to the back of the cold metal chair. “Hey!” Sam screamed. “What’s going on!” Fear once again spiking his adrenals as he struggled against the restraints. “Easy now, Mr. Morre.” Agent Harlow calmly said. “Let me explain.” The nurse shied away to the corner of the room by the door. “I don’t believe you.” Agent Harlow continued. “Your story that is.” He reached in his pockets and pulled out two latex gloves and pulled on them vigorously causing them to stretch. He proceeded to put the gloves on. “You see we have been authorized to get the truth by any means necessary. ‘Any means’ is quite a loose term. It’s up for interpretation for us to proceed with those ‘Any means’” He snapped the last glove on his hand and motioned to the doctor. “Hey wait!” Sam yelled. “I have rights! You can’t do this!” Agent Harlow feigned shock. “And who would stop me?” The fight fled from him, his face ghost white at the sudden realization, but it returned quickly in stride straining; he tried to free himself from his restraints. The doctor meanwhile, grabbed a tube of liquid and a needle and proceeded to fill it to his desired amount. Sam struggled grunting loudly as the pain in his wrists in ankles screamed for him to stop. But he couldn't, he had to try. He thought back to the open door of his room. Was he a fool for not trying? Would he simply have been shot during his escape? In a final attempt for freedom Sam screamed as he balled his white knuckled hands into fists and pulled with all his might.

Sam felt the pain and his head lull swiftly to the left from the sudden strike from Agent Harlow. “Stop it.” he said plainly. “You can’t will your way out of this chair. Just sit back and enjoy the psychoactive trip you’re about to go on.” Agent Harlow continued with an evil smile stretched across his face. Sam sunk back into the chair in defeat. ‘Harlow was right.’ Sam thought ‘There’s no way out.’ He watched as the doctor finished preparing his cocktail of drugs. “What is that?” Sam said, frightened. The doctor looked up “This is a cocktail of sodium pentathol, methohexital, and 3-Quinuclidinyl benzilate” Agent Harlow crossed his arms. “You people like to call it a truth serum. But it’s not exactly a truth serum. It just loosens you up and in theory will prevent you from actively resisting us.” Sam was bewildered. “But that’s inadmissible right? I mean isn’t that against my rights?” Harlow laughed. “Hahaha, yes, yes, quite so indeed. Any means, remember?” Sam had given up. His fight or flight response died with a wimper; he felt numb, even before the needle. Sam’s vision seemed to blur around the edges a dark gradient effect as his body prepared for the onslaught of mind altering drugs. The room darkened as the lights seemed to pulse darkness from them. Shadows crept up through the room. The nurse in the corner of the room fell into a complete wispy flowing darkness. Sam saw a face. Sam saw a completely different face, a long drawn out face appeared from the darkness. Still dark, but hints of white were shining through softly. The shadow swirled with grace like black smoke rising from a burning building. From it something stepped forward out of the smoke. The off white color of rough jagged teeth were the last thing Sam remembered as the needle poked his skin. The painfully viscous fluid rapidly surged through his body.

Sam woke up in the surprisingly comfortable bed of his cell alone once again. The massive hangover from the cocktail of strange drugs taking over for the pain in the rest of his body. His head thumped to the beat of his heart as the blood circulated. His mouth was dry and his entire body sore. Every muscle screamed in agony with every move. His thirst finally won over as he grabbed a bottle of water and an apple juice from the fridge. He chugged the water and sipped at the apple juice. He sat on the edge of the bed trying to figure out where he was, what he was, and what happened to him. After some time listening to the thrumming of the headache reverberate through his body he remembered the strange cocktail of drugs they injected him with. Try as he would, he could not remember anything after. Then he thought of the thing he saw in the corner of the room; the teeth. ‘But I was drugged, that was nothing but my drug-addled mind creating demons. Right?’ He didn’t want to think anymore; he just wanted to crawl back into bed and fall asleep and hope this hangover was gone when he woke up. He did just that. In and out of consciousness is how Sam remembered the next few days, or was it merely hours? He had no real way to discern.

Sitting slumped on the couch in his cell Sam nibbled at the turkey sandwich that was left for him. The door to his cell opened giving him a startle. He only flinched slightly, keeping focus on the cold turkey clutched in his shaking hands. Harlow stood at the door. “Well, that was a complete waste of time.” Sam looked at him but could not bother to give an answer. Harlow stood at the door with his arms crossed gazing at his nails. He bit at his cuticle that was too long and blew off the remnants. “You spent 6 hours thrashing and screaming about some demon.” Harlow bit at his nails again. “I guess you had a bad trip.” Sam looked down at his red burned wrists. He assumed all that damage was from his initial failed attempt to escape his shackles. “Don’t worry the doctor has adjusted the mixture so we’ll be ready to try round two today!” Harlow replied happily. Sam sat still as a statue. ‘Not again’ He couldn’t remember anything after he received the drugs but he did remember the aftermath. ‘Everything hurts’ Sam thought ‘And they wanted to do this all again!?’ He couldn’t move, he just sat confused as to why all this was happening to him. ‘I didn’t do anything!’ He screamed in his mind. ‘I have to escape.’ his thoughts continued. ‘Who cares about running for the rest of my life. Anything is better than this!’ Sam made up his mind. He was going to do it. He was going to run.

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“Come along Sam time for round two.” Harlow said with a sweet inclination. Sam slowly got up from the couch and walked over towards the door. Harlow directed him through the door and into the hallway. His cell was in the corner of two connecting hallways. His interrogations have always been to the right but straight in front of him is how he came in on the first day. That would be the way out. As soon as he crossed the threshold of the doorway Sam bolted into a run. But, was immediately grabbed under each arm by two awaiting guards sending his feet out in front of him away from his body being dragged backwards. “OH HO! Good catch boys! Now come along Sam time for your medication.” A rueful grin crept across Harlow’s face as he walked passed the three men back down that abysmal hallway away from Sam’s freedom.

Sat in that wretched chair again. The doctor mixed his cocktail and slid the needle deep into Sam’s arm. Sam didn’t fight again. He knew it was pointless; he would only awake in even more pain. Lack of pain at this point was his greatest motivator. The drugs seemed to move slower through his body without him actively trying to escape or resist. “Now dear boy…” Harlow started with his mouth perked up and teeth showing. “Tell me about the bomb! Tell me about what happened at the convention center! Tell me what you did!” Sam lulled his head to the side and that was all he remembered. No, dimming lights or swirly black smoke and no ghastly teeth.

Harlow was standing at the opened door when Sam awoke. He rolled over to look at the man. “I’ve been nice to you Sam.” he started as he played with a knife in his hand cleaning the dirt from under his fingernails. “I’ve been good to you haven’t I? Sure you’ve felt a little pain. But I’ve given you this nice room, plenty of food, water, little treats that you can stuff into your little face. And yet here you are not telling me what I need to know! I don’t like to do this Sam.” Harlow paused. Looking up from his grooming and smiling at Sam. “I really love it.” He laughed. “I do! I do love it so much!” he was growing in intensity. His voice gained an octave in exuberance. “Finding the truth! Weaseling it out of someone when they refuse to tell you!” Manically he spoke in an elevated tone. Gripping his knife in one hand and fist in another he stretched them out towards Sam in exaggerated effort seeking an empathetic response. “Watching their faces coil in disgust as I squeeze every last truth from their body! Oh the joy it brings the elation! Sam, you must understand the harder you make this the more I enjoy it. Quite frankly at this point… whether you tell me the truth or not I’ll just keep going. I’ll continue digging and digging. You! Will! Tell! Me! Everything.” letting that last word linger on a single whispered note. Sam’s eyes glowed with fear as he watched the manic agent Harlow dance about in front of him. his drug induced hangover was lessened this time, perhaps the cocktail was a better mix or maybe he was getting used to it. He didn’t feel a lot of pain this time he was simply weak and tired. Although filled with fear he could not keep his eyes open and slowly fell back into a deep slumber.

Back in the medical chair, strapped tightly down as his days generally went. With differing cocktails of drugs circulating through his body Harlow tried again and again to glean information from Sam. The beating Harlow started giving him happened after the fourth time in the chair and continued on throughout the interrogations. He was strapped to his chair again, with the doctor preparing his new batch of drugs. Harlow tapped his foot impatiently next to the doctor. The nurse was ordered out of the room and was only present to strap him down. As Harlow stood awaiting the injection. He glared at Sam with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The doctor readied his needle depressing the plunger to remove the air. Harlow placed his hand on the doctor’s arm. “Before we do that.” Harlow cocked his right arm back and swung across Sam’s face. Blood seeped into his mouth from his split cheek and Sam sat dejected with his head hanging low simply spit out the blood and leaned back. “Ah!” Harlow exclaimed, rubbing his knuckles. “That felt better. Alright doctor you’re up!” The doctor flinched at the punch thrown at his patient but he wasn’t surprised he had worked with Harlow for quite some time at this point.

Sam had lost count at the number of times he had entered that room. His face was constantly bloodied, bruised, and patched up. There were sometimes days between interrogations and sometimes an entire week before he was dragged back into that accursed room. It depended on how bad the previous beating had been. Harlow wanted him to heal at least a little before breaking him again and again. Sam was sitting in his cell reading the new book that was placed in his cell. Dracula was the book this time. The choices of books always seemed strange to Sam. The fact that they kept replacing books as he finished was always shocking to him. Was someone out there watching him who felt bad for him? If they were torturing him, why allow him anything, leave him alone in his thoughts. ‘Perhaps’ Sam thought ‘It’s about perceived efforts of comfort? If I have something to do I spend less time thinking of escape?’ Sam looked up at one of the cameras in the corner of the room raising his book and bowing his head slightly in thanks. ‘It’s the least I can do. Someone does care at least a little bit.’ The door opened again and Harlow stood before him. “Good morning Sam. It’s that time again.” he said smiling. Two guards appeared as usual and guided him back to the horrid little room and strapped him down. Sam waited. And he waited. This was unusual. They never took this long. He heard some sounds down the hallway and muffled shouting. As they got closer he could make out what they were saying just barely. “But, but, we haven’t learned anything yet. We’re still trying to…” The man who sounded like agent Harlow was cut off by another voice with a much deeper tone. “Are you out of your mind! You are going to be shipped off on the next plane to the Northern reaches of Syberia on that USC fact finding mission the second I leave this building!” Sam could hear Harlow grumbling as the group of men reached the door. Tears were streaming down his bruised face as the door opened. “Jesus Christ!” The older gentleman exclaimed. “Get him out of that chair and into medical!” The two guards not acting quickly enough were startled when the older man yelled “NOW!” They snapped into position and rushed into the room removing the restraints and helping Sam to his feet and lead him back down the hallway and past his cell. Sam looked back briefly as he walked away from that horrid room.

“I spent the next few weeks in their medical brig but I was free to walk around. I was even allowed to go outside. They wanted to keep me there to make sure I was completely healthy before letting me go. Well the lawsuit will be interesting to say the least. But Ryan thankfully took care of that.” Sam had calmed down after nearing the end of his harrowing tale. He sounded like his old self again. “I don’t understand.” Manny said. “What was that about the lawyer?” Ryan smiled and perked up. “Oh that, I can assist with! As you heard, I had met Sam before the convention and we had quite a nice conversation. That was to be my first appearance after the weather so I was quite nervous and doubting my talents and skills on camera. However, Sam’s enthusiasm really sparked a light in me. When the Erasing occurred I was able to catch it live. I went on the air breaking live. It was probably a rather stupid move but after the black orb had receded. I immediately ran inside and saw Sam lying in the center of the crate of what was the convention center. He was whisked away in an ambulance and I’ve been trying to find him since.” Manny nodded along. “Sure, that makes sense. But the lawyer thing.” Ryan perked up again. “Yes, of course. I knew some people at the hospital and they had assured me, while broken in many places Sam was quite well and on the mend. I went to go see him immediately. However, I was shooed away by some menacing creeps in dark suits. Since I had become quite the hero at the office I inquired about retaining a lawyer for Sam right away. Fortunately, we were able to get him entangled into this mess before he was whisked away by those government types. And we have been advocating for him since. It took a while to go up the ranks and quite a few favors were cashed in. But in the end it all seemed to work out and Sam is here with us today!” Manny touched his hand to his chin in thought. “Hmmm… yes but…” Jumping in with the answer to Manny’s assumed question Ryan retorted. “There may have been a bit of forgery of a signature. But I’m quite sure Sam won’t hold that against us.” Sam shook his head. “Nope, not all. It was only thanks to you that I’m here now. And that Harlow guy is thousands of miles away!”

They sat there for quite a while exchanging stories and feeling like normality had returned. “So I assume you’ll be wanting to head home and get some rest then?” Manny suggested to Sam. “Ha! No I don’t think so I’ve done enough resting. What I want now is to get back into work!” Sam said enthusiastically. “You were tortured for months and all you want to do is go out on the streets and start finding things for people?” Sam thought for a moment. He did have quite the tormentous few months but he wanted normal, he wanted his life back. “Yep” He replied with a big grin on his face. “I want to get back out there and help someone.” Manny smiled “Very well I did just get a request for a new customer this morning perhaps you can take a look and see if you’re up to it. You can even bring the new little scamp with you!” Sam thought for a moment. ‘I guess I could be a bit of a mentor’ “Sure that sounds like a plan. Manny handed Sam a folder. The two friends hugged. Sam shook Ryan’s hand agreeing to meet up again soon and left the store of Finders keepers.