The sounds came first—a confusing mishmash of words and phrases that made no sense. Then there was a smell—the scent of fabric. Sight came last. Opening my eyes, I saw only darkness.
Something's over my face.
A hood.
In the books, they always say something like the memories came rushing back, but it was nothing like that for me. My name is Axel. That much I knew. Then there was the dead man in the hotel, my desperate dash through Manhattan, and the men in the truck.
What followed next came with a burning certainty.
I'm in big trouble: the kind of trouble that people rarely survived.
Then the hood was dragged off, and I found myself blinking under a harsh light. They'd handcuffed my hands to the armrests of a wooden chair. Metal restraints secured my ankles. The chair was bolted to the floor.
Peering into the glare, I made out a timber room with whitewashed walls and ripped carpet. It's a derelict building. Angling my eyes upwards, I spied a single light set into the ceiling. It was intensely bright and hot and cast a cone of light on me.
The walls were bare except for a clock. The second hand ticked by relentlessly. 6.10pm?
I'd been unconscious for about two hours.
But the worst part of all this was the man sitting beyond the cone of light. The darkness was so complete that I hadn't spotted him at first. Now I focused and saw a gaunt figure watching me in silence.
He looked emaciated, so skinny that his suit almost looked ready to fall off. His face was narrow, and he was bald except for graying tufts of hair above his ears. He had an almost nonexistent chin that receded straight into his neck. His glasses had round lenses; they were the type that John Lennon made so famous. His lips were slender and tight. They twisted into a thin smile.
I wish he hadn't done that.
It was almost reptilian.
'Ah.' The man's voice was soft and calm. 'You're awake. I'm so pleased. I was afraid Terrance had struck you so hard you would never speak again.'
I said nothing.
'Speak to me, boy,' he said, the smile never leaving his face. 'What is that old expression? Has the cat got your tongue?'
I slowly shook my head.
'How are you feeling?' He leans forward. 'Is your head sore?'
'Whatever it is you're after,' I began, my throat dry, 'I don't—'
He cut me off with a wave of his hand. 'Save your breath,' he said. 'We are still in the introductory phase. We will become friends. You believe that? Don't you? We will be friends?'
Out of all the things I might have believed at that moment, becoming friends with this weirdo ranked last on the list. Regardless, it was pointless to antagonize him. I nodded.
'Good,' he said. 'Now, would you like a drink of water?'
'Yes.'
He rose from the chair and left the room. I tried the restraints. There was a tiny amount of give, but only keys would open the locks. The chair was timber. Given time, I could rock back and forth to collapse it into pieces. But time was a luxury I didn't have.
The man reappeared with a glass of water in his hand, held it to my mouth, and I drank thirstily. It was only after the third gulp that I wondered if it could contain poison, but that could be a blessing depending on what the man had planned. He removed the empty glass and sat back in the seat.
'How easily most problems are answered,' he said. 'A man is thirsty: he drinks, and it quenches his thirst. It is so simple.' He nodded. 'My name is Doctor Ravana. As they often say on television shows, I will be your host for the evening.'
I nodded.
'Questions and answers they require can also be simple.' He bit thoughtfully on his bottom lip with his thin, even teeth. 'As long as the questions are answered correctly, honestly, and with humility, there are no problems.'
He spoke as if delivering a lecture.
'I'm not going to lie,' I said. 'I have nothing to lie about. I don't know anything!'
'Everyone says that,' he replied, 'in the beginning.' He nodded again with the same humorless smile. 'Yes, everyone says I don't know anything at the start. But as time passes, they remember and, in the end, they are desperate to share their knowledge.'
'But I really don't know anything!' I said. 'I woke up in a room. I couldn't remember my name—'
'But you remember now.'
'My name is Axel.'
'Good,' he said. 'We have a beginning.'
'But I don't remember how I got there. There was a man in the room. A dead man—'
'His name?' the doctor said, like a cat pouncing onto a mouse.
'I don't know his name.'
Ravana sighed. 'This is where we have a problem. How does one separate lies from the truth?' He made a motion with his hands as if panning for gold. 'It seems a person must be more than willing to tell the truth—'
'I am willing! I'm telling you the truth!'
'—but desperate to tell the truth.'
For the first time, I noticed his accent. It was German, I thought. He was horribly reminiscent of one of those death camp doctors during the war.
'Desperate,' he repeated.
I said nothing. The silence in the room yawned between us like a chasm.
'Desperation is a powerful emotion,' he said. 'It separates the chaff from the grain. It is not enough that you are telling me the truth.' He left the chair, kneeled before me, and placed a bony hand on my knee. 'I must believe you are telling me the truth.'
'I'll tell you the truth—' I began, but Ravana had already crossed to the door and exited. He returned a moment later with a medical trolley. On the top shelf sat a plain silver box with two lights. One was green, the other red.
'Do not be fooled by appearances,' he said. 'This is a highly sophisticated device—and equally effective.' Attached to the box via a curly lead was a handheld wand made from shiny metal. 'I will ask you questions, and you will give me answers. Applying the probe to bare skin produces all-consuming pain. A second seems like an hour, but the agony disappears when the probe is removed. In fact, you will feel a strange euphoria. As if you are sitting by the beach on a summer's day.'
'You don't have to do this,' I said, my voice breaking. 'I'll tell you the truth!'
'I know you'll tell me the truth.' Ravana turned the device on, and a low hum filled the room. 'They always do.'