The Forbidden Trilogy(206)

The boulder next to Mr. K had become her customary seat while visiting with him. An indent fit her perfectly as she sank into her spot to listen.

As he spoke, Mr. K's branches swayed in response to his mood. "The day after they took me from Rent-A-Kid, I woke up strapped to a bed, needles and wires jabbing out of my body, tape over my mouth. This man came in, dressed up in white with a blue mask, like a doctor, and introduced himself as Bill. Then he injected me with a serum."

Lucy shuddered, remembering her own injections at the hands of Rent-A-Kid—injections to keep her complacent and happy, injections to prime her for pregnancy.

"It hurt," Mr. K continued. "It hurt like acid being pumped through my veins, and they didn't give me any pain medication—that would've messed up their tests. After Bill finished, he gave me a pat on the head, said 'Good job' like I was his dog, and left. It took hours, but the pain eventually went away. Next day, Bill came in and gave me another injection. I groaned, pulled, twisted—tried anything to get out of those straps, to ask what I'd done. Why me? Bill gave me another pat on the head, another 'Good job,' and left. He did this for days, always the same routine. 'Hello, Mr. Krevner. Good job, Mr. Krevner.' And all the while I kept thinking, 'Do you realize that you're hurting another human being? Do you even care?' As time went on, the pain built. First, I occupied myself with thinking up escape plans, but nothing worked, so I stopped. As far as I could tell, Bill's tests showed no results, and I began to think that I was going to spend the rest of my life locked in that room. Then, one night, I thought of something else."

Lucy could see where this was headed, but she remained still, feeling Mr. K's pain. His branches whipped back and forth in agitation as the story continued.

"Bill came in and began his daily routine. And all the while I imagined myself ripping off my straps, jumping out of the bed, and beating his face bloody. Then I would escape. It didn't calm me down when the pain seared my body, but breaking out of those straps, punching Bill's face in—that helped. Day after day passed without change, until finally I started to feel the serum pulsing through my veins. A gray tint spread through them, and my muscles bulged against the straps, burning my arms and chest. Whatever Bill had given me, it was working. So that night, I showed him the results of his experiments.

"He came in, 'Hello, Mr. Krevner,' lifted the needle as he walked over to the bed, and leaned down for the injection. My hand shot out and clasped his throat. I'd torn the straps off my arm with my new-found strength. I leaned up, and the rest of the straps broke away. That's how strong they'd made me. With a flick of the wrist, Bill tumbled into a corner. I headed for the door, but something hit me on the back, and I spun around without thinking, swinging my arm. My hand hit Bill, who had come at me with a chair, across the face, and he flew back. His head hit the bed with a crack, and he collapsed on the ground, silent.

"I'd broken his skull. Before that moment, I'd never even so much as gotten into a fight at grade school. I knew guards would show up any minute, so I ran out of the room. Shouts and footsteps followed me and corridors spun like a maze. Finally, I found a window, the ocean spread out below, as a squad of guards rounded a corner. With nowhere else to run, I jumped.

"With my new strength, I swam for hours—swam until I reached this island, though I didn't know it was an island at the time. I thought I'd reached the mainland, so I walked inland. Over the days, my skin hardened. My fingers grew longer and my hair grew thicker. I didn't know what Bill had done to me, but I'd worked with paranormals before. Had he turned me into one? Why? I'd pissed off Rent-A-Kid, and thought they'd been punishing me with the serum, but they'd actually been experimenting, trying to create something new—something else. I saw my reflection in the water one day and never looked again. At one point, I had to cross a river, so I walked in, and the current swept me away. Something was different. I floated to the top, felt lighter in the water, but couldn't get out before the waves threw me down a waterfall. Eventually, I drifted to shore—here—and managed to drag myself onto a patch of grass and fall asleep. When I woke up, I couldn't move."

Lucy's eyes filled with tears as she looked at Mr. K's body, how it had become the tree, how his skin was now bark. How he'd never be human again.

"My feet had dug into the earth. My toes had turned to roots. I struggled for hours, but the soil only gripped me harder. That night, I imagined escaping, but could only think of Bill.

"I'd killed him."

The whipping of branches slowed to a soft sway as Mr. K's voice lowered. "You could argue that I didn't mean to, that it'd been an accident, or even that it'd been self-defense. You could say it wasn't me. But deep down inside, I wanted to kill that man. I wanted to squeeze the life out of his eyes. You could say whatever you like, but that was me. Still is.