“Why does my arm have to stay in this tube?”
A peculiar gleam flicked across Dr. Unger’s face. “Oh, just a precaution.” He returned to his panel, prodding an array of buttons. His moves were erratic; thick calloused fingers, like those of a man who spilled blood in the fields, stumbled across the screen.
“Precaution? You said it would heal my tension.” The tumbler, with its clear, silky liquid and faint lavender aroma, now seemed to hide a sinister tang.
Dr. Unger flicked a switch, the device pulsing to life. His eyes were aglow. “People do silly things … when attacked.”
Copyright © 2015 by Emily Clayton
Originally appeared on Flash!Friday’s Warmup Wednesday: