Dead Man's Hand

"Subject B-25-Alpha, it's time to begin your daily testing."

A sixteen-or-so year old blonde haired green eyed young man steps out of a room. As per usual, he has a glazed look over his eyes. He does his best to stare straight ahead as he walks past several rooms exactly like the ones he just came out of. Some of them are occupied. Some of them are not. Some of them were. A doctor walks past, mumbling something about not being able to find something steel.
Eventually, the boy and the Doctor walk into a lab labeled B-25. The boy does his best to stare straight ahead, past all of the jars, but he can't help but look over every once in a while. As usual, what he sees sends a chill down his spine. Samples of skin, floating in jars of who-knows-what, and more horrifying things, eyeballs, swirling jars of finger and toenails, a hair sample that seems to be… moving. And other things, to disgusting to mention. As he walks, he fidgets in his pockets, taking out something, and slipping it behind his hand, and out of view. The boy walks up to his normal spot, a table, which he lays down on, and is strapped to. He opens his mouth for a moment, and a croaking noise comes out, before he remembers how to properly talk.
"D-Doctor Green?"
"Subject B-Twenty-"
"It's Wiley. Wiley Davitt, and you know damn well. You promised me that if I did this, you would help us. Help my mother. I want to see her, to know that you are."
"Subject… Wiley. I assure you that your mother is fine. We've been providing financial support, along with sending someone to check up on her periodically."
Doctor Green makes the mistake of looking down. Underneath his glasses, his brown eyes cross bright green ones. Wiley's eyes harden. "You're lying. Your voice went up, you spoke faster, your left eye twitched, and you cocked your head to the side."
Doctor Green adjusts his glasses. "It hardly matters. You're here now, and you won't be leaving until our testing is concluded." He opens a small box next to the table, and takes out a syringe, and walks over to a lab station to fill it up.
"Oh, it matters."
Doctor Green turns around. The table is empty, and Wiley is gone. There is a faint sound of metal scraping against metal, and a steel razor blade flies out of nowhere, straight into Doctor Green's leg. He yelps loudly, and is hardly aware of a window shattering, and a small figure jumping out of it.

It's nearly twelve at night, but that hardly bothers Wiley. He's been altered, he can see every corner in the dark alleys, all the way to his house. He pauses for a second, worried what he'll find if he does open the door. His hand shakes as he feels the knob, and turns it. For the first time, Wiley regrets being able to see perfectly in the dark. Some things shouldn't be seen. Especially by young boys who thought that they were helping their mothers. Wiley steels himself, as he walks over to the table. His deck of playing cards is exactly where he left them the last time he left his house. He takes out the Aces of clubs and spades, and the eights of clubs and spades, and lays them on the counter top.

Nearly a year later, the labs that Wiley was tested on were found to have mysteriously been ransacked. Twelve doctors were found with various wounds largely consisting of minor cuts all over their bodies. But all of them were found to have severe cranial trauma, and none of them were ever able to walk again. Of course, the labs were immediately shut down, and all testing subjects released. In one room, labeled B-25, a steel set of cards, the aces of spades and clubs, and the eights of spades and clubs, were found lain out on a table with broken straps.

Dead Man's Hand

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