Experiment 3: Capture Aftermath

Sorry for the false alarm. Things have been occupying my attention and to tell you the truth I forgot I'd made it and so didn't cancel it. I'm leaving it up as however embarrasing it is it does describe the nature of the experiment. Speaking of, I should let you know what happened now that I can actually type.

The hardest part turned out be getting him to actually be within the range of the machine, and although he was sometimes picked up by the cameras it took several attempts over three days to get him into position. In the end I threw caution and scientific reason to the winds and used Setoth’s summoning circle, drawing it in the earth and muttering the words from the roof and feeling incredibly silly the entire time.

When he was in range I flicked the switch. Not long after there was the most horrible noise, like a spike being driven into your head through your ears. I’m still not entirely sure it wasn’t in my head, since it by rights should have alerted anyone within several blocks. It stopped after a few seconds and I unscrewed my eyes and cautiously looked above the parapet.

What I saw was a giddying sight. It was him, of course, and his form was struggling to maintain cohesion; it was all a mass of black writhing tentacles that melted and reformed from each other. It looked like he’d tried to smash the machine, since several of them were stuck in place as every metallic particle in them was being whipped back and forth at fifty hertz.

It was great material for a one liner, but all I heard was someone laughing and it took a few seconds to realize it was me. Oh, it was amazing, the heady feeling of turning the tables, of finally having power over it, instead of the other way around. It couldn’t last, and it didn’t.

In that mass of black that white face turned from the machine and looked up at me. And then a bevy of tentacles lashed out and sliced through a nearby tree, which fell on the machine with a crunch. The part of me that wasn’t completely freaking out now was celebrating the fact that I’d forced him to use an unorthodox tactic, but that too joined the rest when he rose up in front of me and the laughter died to a gurgle.

I’ve mentioned an ‘emoticon aura’ before. He seems to broadcast it in lieu of facial expressions, and from what I’ve read it mainly comes in four settings: Observation, Condescending Affection, Bafflement and I WILL MURDER YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU HOLD DEAR. Guess which one was practically flattening me to the ground in fear. I knew, right then and there, that I was dead. Well, I thought, that’s a relief. Then I was smacked against the concrete of the other side of the roof so hard I swear I heard my skull crack.

It didn’t stop there. He continued to smack me around with tentacles that burnt to the touch again and again and again and again and again and again again again. It wasn’t entirely physical, either. The sheer force of the anger radiating out from him felt like being crushed under a ten ton weight while someone sawed through your brain with static shaped barbed wire. I was on my knees, shaking and coughing blood. I was still lucid enough, barely, to reach into my right pocket and activate the recording of the banishing words I’d made beforehand. It didn’t help. I was lifted up by the front of my shirt and then dropped onto the ground, and there was a crack as my weight fell on the iPhone and the recording abruptly stopped. Shards of the screen embedded themselves into my side and drew blood.

Up until this point I’d been pretty much a limp doll. It hurt to breathe, moving was out of the question. My mind snapped into focus again, just as it did in the warehouse, and suddenly it was as if someone had flicked the off switch on the world. Again, I didn’t feel anything from him; the sense of primal anger cut off abruptly. The only sources of pain now were my injuries and the tentacles restricting my movement. I snarled and bit the nearest one I could reach.

Well, that was another bad idea in an increasingly long list of them. He tasted awful, of wood alcohol and bitter tannins, with a large dose of rotting offal and a dash of jet fuel. I spat immediately and involuntarily, and started trying to scratch him instead. My nails needless to say, did nothing.

I scrabbled and struggled like a mad thing, and I think this might have confused him a little because he paused for a second, before wrapping a tentacle around my throat.

This… state of mind may have been an advantage of sorts in the warehouse, but it was most certainly was not here, with an opponent that couldn’t be hurt or defended against by direct means. I’m not the most cautious of individuals but in this state I am stupid. That's the only reason I can think of for why I didn't use the taser I had in my other pocket until this point. I stabbed the nearest bit of him I could reach with it, and everything went black.

Now seeing as I am alive, as evidenced by my writing this to you, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume I was teleported somewhere again. You’d be right. I was teleported to a highway. Where I was almost immediately run over.

I woke up again in a hospital. Thankfully, the person who’d hit me was horrified and had called 111. My cousin rushed down as soon as he heard the news, and so I’m glad my vocal cords are absolutely shot, since I had an excuse to not talk to him. I’m told they’ll heal… mostly, but for now I can’t say a word. On the other hand, he told me news and left the laptop and the bag of grapes I’m sure he only bought because that’s the thing you do in movies and told me he’d get to the bottom of who did this. My pitiful neckbracy attempt at a vehemently shaken head just doesn’t have the same impact as a loud ‘no’, I found. He left before I could stop him.

Speaking of the injury tally: I was right, my skull is cracked. My brain had minor internal bleeding. Might have something to do with the fact that everything seems to echo right now, whispers on the edge of hearing. I have cracked ribs. I have whiplash. The screen shards had to be removed. My mouth feels like I’ve been gargling battery acid. My left arm and leg are broken, making it a pain to type let me tell you. There are bad burns all over my body that have distinctly baffled the hospital staff with regards to their possible origin. I played the ‘cracked skull unconciousness’ card when they asked. Not to mention bruises everywhere and apparently self inflicted muscle damage. All in all, I’m incredibly lucky to be alive. I’m told the fact that I wasn’t expecting the impact with the car may have saved my life.

So I will be in traction for a while. Since my iPhone’s smashed I can’t monitor my camera feeds. Nor can I try and see if the machine is still salvageable. (It most likely isn’t.) But I can still work on the data I’ve saved to the laptop, and I can still read blogs (go hospital wifi!), so I’ll go do that now.