Chapter Three
A squeak escapes my mouth. "A psychiatric institution? Why... why here?""You're here so you can become one of the test subjects for our psychological experiments."
My bones turn to jelly. "Psy-psychiatric experiments? Like- like torture?"
"Of course not!" he exclaims. "Well, you might think it's torture - if your mind is weak enough. But our tests are specially designed to push you only to the brink of insanity, and you get plenty of breaks in between sessions. We're not monsters here at the TVPI."
I gulp, breathing shallowly. "When is my first session?"
He points to the clock, high up on the wall guarded by a metal cage. "Tonight at 5:00, so you've still got 10 hours, honey."
I narrow my eyes. "Don't call me honey."
"Ah, yes - we have forgotten to introduce ourselves!" he says. "I am Dr. Hopper. And you are...?"
"Puddin' Tame." I mutter.
Hopper shakes his head and whistles. "Wow, you're a rebellious one! As I said before, we can't have that, so I'm afraid I have to teach you a lesson." He whips out a small machine - a taser - and holds down the button. Then he presses it to my bare thigh.
It feels like someone is grabbing me and shaking me extremely hard. Then when he takes it off, I'm just numb. I can't move my legs. Panting, I pull myself up to a sitting position.
"What's... your.... name?" Hopper demands, more slowly this time.
"Isabella Smith," I wheeze.
Hopper gives a satisfied nod before reaching behind me and fiddling with my cuffs. I hear a click, and my legs are free. He extends a hand, and I look at it warily.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"It's time to meet the other test subjects," he replies, yanking me up when I don't take his hand right away.
He drags me to the door, where he makes me look away as he types in a security code. Then he swipes his card, and we're able to get into the hallway. He walks me to another door, this one a lot wider, with the glass on the door thick and tinted. He types in a longer code this time, and then unlocks the door with a key. I follow him inside.
The room is dimly lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The floor and walls are padded, all except for one wall where there is a large screen. Up in the corners of the ceiling there are speakers and spotlights, all turned off.
In the center of the room sit three other people, all of them skinny and gaunt. They each wear the same thing as me - a tan jumper and an ID tag around our ankles.
"Subjects, allow me to introduce your newest and final member - Isabella Smith."
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