The shaft of blue light streaming through a large, barred window near the ceiling made the boy sense it was nighttime. He heard traffic sounds. Trickling through his fear was the question of where his father was. He strained his neck to look for the man, but all he could see was a tall, whitish cabinet with glass sides against one wall, an empty stool, and an upright tank or cylinder that looked like something a scuba diver would strap onto his back. The boy also saw a flat tray or table near his head covered with a cloth.
A sudden scratching noise made him panic anew. He pulled against the straps binding him until his wrists and ankles burned, but his limbs barely budged. When the scratching grew louder, he twisted his head around to find the source. He finally saw it atop the cabinet: a large, dark rat. The rodent was on its haunches, peering down at him. The boy tried to scream through his taped mouth, but all that came out was a squealing muffled moan.
The slam of a nearby door caused the rat to leap from the cabinet and sail beyond the boy’s sight. Afraid the rat might come near him, the boy struggled to rise and see where it went, but his bindings held him down. Just then, the door to the room swung open and the boy froze. From where he lay, he saw the silhouette of someone in a long dress appear in the doorway. At the same moment, a fluorescent light exploded in the ceiling overhead that blinded the boy with its brightness. With another moan, he shut his eyes again and turned away.
“Shh,” said a voice. “Shh.”
The boy quieted, whether from fear or hope, he did not know. Like trying to confront a nightmare, he forced open his eyes and looked toward the doorway. Standing there was a woman, or at least that is what he gleaned from the large, round eyes and smooth forehead he saw beneath the light, for the rest of the face – from nose to throat – was concealed by a gauzy mask. And what the boy thought at first was a dress now appeared to be a light blue gown.
The boy fixed his eyes on the woman, pleading for answers with his expression.
“Shh,” the woman repeated. She moved as if gliding until she was alongside the boy, halting next to the cloth-covered tray. Her own eyes, when she looked down at him, appeared wholly indifferent to his suffering.
The boy stared, breathing hard through his nose, and watched with widened eyes as the woman pulled the cloth off the tray and picked up a slim hypodermic syringe with a gloved hand. Again, the boy squirmed against his restraints. Almost at once he felt a needle puncture his arm, and then came blackness.
