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"It won't take a moment." Sabin reassured him. He swabbed his exposed flesh with an alcohol-soaked cotton swab, and with a practiced mannerism, slid the needle into his arm, pumping the serum into his blood stream before pulling it out. The injection itself was relatively painless, although Lucas could feel the warmpth spreading through his veins, leaving a tingling feeling for a few moments.

Sabin tossed the spent needle and washed his hands quickly before coming back over.

"And that's that! I can take you to your room now, and you can get situated. If you like, you can rest, or you can go into the jungle tonight. I take it you have all the supplies you need? Camera? Tape recorder...?"

Sabin smiled. "We can do that. I'll give you the key when we get to the jeep and get your stuff to your room. Do you want me to drop you anywhere?"

Sabin led him back into the elevator, which began its descent to the lobby.

Sabin grinned. "No problem, Lucas." He took him back out to the jeep and started off down the road towards the village. About a half a mile from it, he stopped and pointed him into the woods after giving him the keys to his room, making a mental note of where he was.

Then, he continued his drive to the village, dropping off his things in his room.

It was getting towards dark, and there would be a show in store for him tonight... just a few more things to do.

Sabin was lucky Aubrey was out of the room to facilitate his collection of an unconscious Ambrose for his last injection.

Finally, after taking him into the labs, adminstering the shot, he drove him out to approximately where he left Lucas, left him in the woods, and headed back to watch the cameras.

It had been a while since the night he'd arrived on the Island and had his run in with Ambrose. After they had parted and he found the road, he had walked slowly down to the village, reflecting on what he had just heard. At that time it hadn't completely sunk in. Though he had accepted what Ambrose had said as truth, he did not feel ready to accept it as his truth. That first night he still considered everything as if it wasn't a part of him or his life. When he woke the next morning it was the same. The night before felt like something out of a movie. Not real. He'd believed all his life that amazing, unbelievable things like this were real, but now that he was faced with it, especially in this situation, he practically refused to accept it. For a few days he tried distracting himself, but he would always end up pacing his room.

A few times he made quick trips out of his duplex, mostly in search of food. He came close to encountering other people on the Island, but they either didn't seem to notice him or didn't care and went about their business. Most of the people he saw he could tell were changed, but some not nearly as much as Ambrose. A few still looked human enough, but they had noticeable animal features, like tails, patches of fur or scales. So far Mr. Duvert had been the only full human he'd seen on the Island. Were there no others? What about the Romanian? Or did he not even exist?

While in his room he was able to surround himself with familiar things he'd brought with him from home and they helped him forget about everything outside. He would draw the drapes closed and block everything out. Curiousity, however, continued to draw him to the window, to look out at another Islander that passed by. When he did so he was forced to think about the realities of the Island. It took him a while to start confronting and accepting the reality that he, too, would change like Ambrose. What would he become? He thought back to when Sabin injected him and tried to recall something that could give him some clue as to what it could be. A few times he considered contacting Sabin and asking directly, but when he imagined the conversation in his mind he always heard his voice mocking him and laughing. It frustrated him that he had been so stupid, so blinded, and he had no desire to give Sabin the chance to rub it in his face. But the question was always there, nagging at him. He'd think of the other animals he'd seen while he walked or while he stood at his window. He thought of some of the other animals Ambrose had named: iguana, hawk, cheetah, and even an octopus.

As he thought more about it, he wondered what it was like. From what he saw, the transformation was painful. Did it continue to be painful? He placed a hand on his mouth and looked at his hands, imagining himself with a muzzle or scaled claws. He would then remember what Ambrose had said about the coyote. "I don't know if I would be able to tell the difference between him and a full-blooded coyote if I didn't know any better." That thought made him shudder. Ambrose had also warned of changes in behavior, cravings, but so far he had felt nothing out of the usual. After a week he started keeping a journal, recording any thought or feeling, anything he thought might be a result of the serum. As much as the idea of turning into a full animal alarmed him, it was the idea of losing his mind that worried him most. What if he became wild, feral? When these thoughts became too much he would turn to a book or something to distract himself.

Along with accepting the fact that he was an experiment, another of the harder things he had to face was that he could never go home and could never seeing Nonie again. She was a tough old woman, but what he knew, what he'd spent his life hearing in cases of disappearances, more than likely she had received news of his "death". What was she feeling? How had she reacted? It hurt him to imagine her crying, believing he'd perished. He at least had some solace in that she at least had people she could turn to for support and comfort. At the same time it made him realize how alone he was. Often, as he paced his room, he yearned to have Nonie nearby so he could turn to her for advice and comfort. As things got worse he turned to his father's photograph and in his mind asked for help. It was then he remembered his father's advice and he started to look forward.

Many days had passed where he had shut himself away in his room, unconsciously trying to cut himself off from the island and everything about it. But as he started to accept, as he started to move on, he knew he couldn't hide away anymore. If he was really trapped there, he could not live his life hidden inside the tiny duplex. Loneliness was starting to get to him and he also wanted more information. So he resolved that the next day he would go out and acquaint himself with the Island and it's inhabitants. He would stop the denial and feeling sorry for himself and move on.

It was also on that same day he made his decision that the speaker in his room came to life for the first time and he heard the voice of his captor.



For several minutes after Lucas stared at the speaker and processed what he'd heard. It left many questions, but it also answered a few.

As Lucas fell asleep in his bed that night, he thought of the perpetrators and hoped they at least found shelter and food. He thought about his father and Nonie. And tomorrow, he reminded himself, he would go out and learn more about his new home and prison.

~Reserved for the Lucas & Emelyn RP~

http://www.gaiaonline.com/guilds/viewtopic.php?page=112&t=1140393#79852067

Reuben, in the meantime, curled up on the ground at the foot of the bed, and eventually let himself drift off to sleep, while his owner slept- somewhat less peacefully. Though her wounds were not deep, the loss of blood... and perhaps something more... had made her feverish, fitful.

In the night, her limbs flailed- and her forehead burned to the touch. She spoke- every few hours, her eyes half-opening, but staring into the darkness without reason. Her words were usually the same- whether fearful, half-slurred cries of "No, don't! Please, no!" ... or a crying whisper in which she called for Mizzie.

Through Lucas's steady and sweet ministrations, Em's condition improved even through that night. Her wounds- though far from serious- housed the taint of infection, deep beneath. It remained to be seen whether the foreign upset that lingered in her bloodstream would cause more damage than her current, feverish state- but, as of the morning after the attack, Em had fallen into a more peaceful sleep than she'd had in a long while.

While his owner slept- less fitfully than she had the night before- Reuben wolfed down the chicken he had been offered, gobbling it down with a gusto wholly unknown to the dog. He had never been ill-fed- even during those 'lean' days when Emelyn could barely fish a single creature out of the sea- there had always been enough to sustain his canine appetite. Never in his life, however- including his labdog days- had he had such a generous helping of hearty food. It made the medium-sized dog not only happy- but also, hyper.

Reuben ran about the room, eagerly sticking his nose into every corner, and finally decided that he liked what he saw. One happy bark was all he gave before settling for a spot for the door... and deciding...

That it was the doggy 'facilities'. Lucas would ubdoubtedly be upset at the sake of the mess. But Reuben, who had never been housebroken- did not seem to understand that when he left his... deposit.

The brown and white dog stood to the side and watched Lucas clean up his mess, a quizzically pleased look on his face- his tail wagging.

To Lucas' question, Reuben cocked his head to the side, gave a little puppy-esque yip... and started to raise his back leg.