Light Shaded Dream
folder
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,371
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Lord of the Rings Movies › General › Lord of the Ring Stars
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,371
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is work of fiction! I do not know the celebrity(ies) I am writing about, and I do not profit from these writings.
Chapter One
- Chapter One -
'Month unknown, 2003'
Orlando’s eyes opened, and he blinked the blurriness away before he shifted his focus from left to right, and still found his sight to be unclear. He was in a large room with a large mirror in front, and the walls were white. Why did it always have to be a plain white color? This room didn’t make him feel right; in fact, it made him uncomfortable because it reminded him so much of a hospital room.
As his other senses were slowly returning, his body felt numb and cool, and he was standing up rather than laying in a bed.
‘Oh God.’ He thought in a panic, his breath quickening. ‘Where the fuck am I?‘
Orlando tried to flex his limbs and fingers, and when he moved around, he grimaced and muffled a scream in pain, which shot all over his nude body. He squinted his eyelids shut, and waited for the pain to go away until it finally faded into nothing, and then realized he was still here.
Still here in this place. In this nightmarish location of painful operations to turn into something, and it hadn‘t been around for perhaps a thousand years.
He was also submerged in a gooey, watery substance in a rectangular tank he’s restrained in by the waist, wrists, and ankles. The only way he could breath is by a tube that had been shoved down his throat and into the trachea Different I.V’s were in his arms, legs, and even in his temples; and the most painful of all was a row of them down his spine.
There were also sensors taped against his forehead and chest to measure his vitals, which he felt like he was something from outer space - they almost treated him as such. At least the scientists haven‘t ripped him open like they would in alien movies.
Yet.
His body suddenly trembled, and not because it was cold in the tank, it was from the thought of them actually performing an autopsy on him when they were finished with their experiments.
He’d give anything to go back home where his family probably were suffering more than him.
If only this was a bad dream where he could finally wake up in the comfort of his bed, but he knew this wasn‘t one - it was real, plain and simple. A real facility with real people who called themselves scientists working for the World Government.
World Government? That was something new. A secret organization is what Orlando had been told a couple of months after those two men paid the bar tender extra money to slip something in his drink, and then they kidnapped him to take him here.
Oh yes, he remembered what he went through. What a long trip it was, there were others also, and it so happened they were randomly selected; had their background history checked out thoroughly, and were lied to with fake promises. Lies. Everything was a lie with each word uttered from the scientists when they worked on him.
He often scolded himself for being gullible then, and now Orlando wasn’t too easy to fool. Being twenty-six years old now, the man certainly didn’t earn the trust toward anyone here, and for that, he only needed to depend on himself to get out of here.
Orlando had been here for four years, so they’re bound to let him go soon, right? If not, then a good plan to escape would hopefully work out, and coming up with one when he was more alert would be the best time to do it.
Orlando drew a sharp intake of air when he heard the echo of a steel door opening beside the large mirror, and he glared over to watch two middle-aged men and a younger woman in lab coats enter the room, and they were followed by five more men and women who were their assistance.
He watched them carry on a conversation, but couldn’t hear what was being said because they were speaking too soft for their voices to echo through the thick glass surface of the tank. The two scientists pointed at him, and then looked to him like they were instructing what they were going to do with him today.
Of course, it was a stupid thought now to wonder what they were going to do with Orlando, and it was the same routine long enough to know exactly everything they do.
The head scientist walked up to the tank, smiling while he held a clipboard in hand.
Before he pressed a button to empty the tank, he would say, “Good morning,” loud enough for him to hear.
He was sick of it.
Orlando glared down at the man as the scientist pressed the button. He felt the strong suction below his feet where the liquid would descend into, cleaned, and recycled back into his tank for the next time they hooked him up in. They would leave him in there for days, and take him out for other tests, let him eat and talk to him, and return him to the tank for the same amount of time they kept him in.
Routine - A sickening routine.
Once the watered emptied, the two scientists and nurse watched as the three other men opened one side of the tank and raised it up over Orlando to an opening inside the ceiling, and closed a latch which held it in place.
“You should see yourself now, young man,” said Dr. Jacobs, the head scientist. “You’re one of the lucky ones to survive from this project.” He smiled again. “Isn’t life grand?”
Jacobs chuckled when Orlando started choking as one of the assistance carefully pulled out the tube from his throat.
“It would be so much easier if you remember to hold your breath when they pull that out,” he commented.
The assistant finished taking the oxygen tube out, and went behind the nude figure to help the other to take out the I.V’s from Orlando’s spine, and then help with the rest.
“Once they finish getting you out of there and cleaned up, you can eat with the others if you want,” explained Dr. Jacobs, “Then we’ll talk more.”
‘I don’t want to talk to you, bloody wanker,’ Orlando thought.
He winced at each careful pull on the I.V’s out of his body; this time, he wasn’t screaming like he did a couple of months ago.
That was odd to him. He couldn’t feel much pain, and let alone freezing water.
There were more to these experiments than meets the eye, and he was afraid they weren‘t done with him.
The female assistants held a couple of white towels and a long gown and a pair of pants similar to ones worn in a hospital; waiting for the other assistants finished doing what they were doing, and took him out of his restraints, and held his limp body as they dried and dressed him.
Dr. Jacobs grabbed a handful of Orlando’s grown out hair, and pulled his head back to look at his slightly bearded face.
“Don’t be shocked about the color of your hair or eyes,” he said, “That wasn’t planned, but you’ll never know what your DNA cells would do when you change them around.”
Orlando sneered, but his mouth was too dry to say something back.
The scientist smirked. “Sneer at me all you want, it won’t bring you back to normal, but just be glad that you’re alive.” He released him, and ordered the two male assistance to follow the nurse out of the room to the mess hall to eat.
“I’ll be seeing you later today, Orlando.”
Orlando heard him say behind him as he was helped out the room down the corridor to get some food. He stared in front of him where the nurse was, and swallowed hard.
‘I hate her,’ He thought for a moment before he began to work out a plan.
'Month unknown, 2003'
Orlando’s eyes opened, and he blinked the blurriness away before he shifted his focus from left to right, and still found his sight to be unclear. He was in a large room with a large mirror in front, and the walls were white. Why did it always have to be a plain white color? This room didn’t make him feel right; in fact, it made him uncomfortable because it reminded him so much of a hospital room.
As his other senses were slowly returning, his body felt numb and cool, and he was standing up rather than laying in a bed.
‘Oh God.’ He thought in a panic, his breath quickening. ‘Where the fuck am I?‘
Orlando tried to flex his limbs and fingers, and when he moved around, he grimaced and muffled a scream in pain, which shot all over his nude body. He squinted his eyelids shut, and waited for the pain to go away until it finally faded into nothing, and then realized he was still here.
Still here in this place. In this nightmarish location of painful operations to turn into something, and it hadn‘t been around for perhaps a thousand years.
He was also submerged in a gooey, watery substance in a rectangular tank he’s restrained in by the waist, wrists, and ankles. The only way he could breath is by a tube that had been shoved down his throat and into the trachea Different I.V’s were in his arms, legs, and even in his temples; and the most painful of all was a row of them down his spine.
There were also sensors taped against his forehead and chest to measure his vitals, which he felt like he was something from outer space - they almost treated him as such. At least the scientists haven‘t ripped him open like they would in alien movies.
Yet.
His body suddenly trembled, and not because it was cold in the tank, it was from the thought of them actually performing an autopsy on him when they were finished with their experiments.
He’d give anything to go back home where his family probably were suffering more than him.
If only this was a bad dream where he could finally wake up in the comfort of his bed, but he knew this wasn‘t one - it was real, plain and simple. A real facility with real people who called themselves scientists working for the World Government.
World Government? That was something new. A secret organization is what Orlando had been told a couple of months after those two men paid the bar tender extra money to slip something in his drink, and then they kidnapped him to take him here.
Oh yes, he remembered what he went through. What a long trip it was, there were others also, and it so happened they were randomly selected; had their background history checked out thoroughly, and were lied to with fake promises. Lies. Everything was a lie with each word uttered from the scientists when they worked on him.
He often scolded himself for being gullible then, and now Orlando wasn’t too easy to fool. Being twenty-six years old now, the man certainly didn’t earn the trust toward anyone here, and for that, he only needed to depend on himself to get out of here.
Orlando had been here for four years, so they’re bound to let him go soon, right? If not, then a good plan to escape would hopefully work out, and coming up with one when he was more alert would be the best time to do it.
Orlando drew a sharp intake of air when he heard the echo of a steel door opening beside the large mirror, and he glared over to watch two middle-aged men and a younger woman in lab coats enter the room, and they were followed by five more men and women who were their assistance.
He watched them carry on a conversation, but couldn’t hear what was being said because they were speaking too soft for their voices to echo through the thick glass surface of the tank. The two scientists pointed at him, and then looked to him like they were instructing what they were going to do with him today.
Of course, it was a stupid thought now to wonder what they were going to do with Orlando, and it was the same routine long enough to know exactly everything they do.
The head scientist walked up to the tank, smiling while he held a clipboard in hand.
Before he pressed a button to empty the tank, he would say, “Good morning,” loud enough for him to hear.
He was sick of it.
Orlando glared down at the man as the scientist pressed the button. He felt the strong suction below his feet where the liquid would descend into, cleaned, and recycled back into his tank for the next time they hooked him up in. They would leave him in there for days, and take him out for other tests, let him eat and talk to him, and return him to the tank for the same amount of time they kept him in.
Routine - A sickening routine.
Once the watered emptied, the two scientists and nurse watched as the three other men opened one side of the tank and raised it up over Orlando to an opening inside the ceiling, and closed a latch which held it in place.
“You should see yourself now, young man,” said Dr. Jacobs, the head scientist. “You’re one of the lucky ones to survive from this project.” He smiled again. “Isn’t life grand?”
Jacobs chuckled when Orlando started choking as one of the assistance carefully pulled out the tube from his throat.
“It would be so much easier if you remember to hold your breath when they pull that out,” he commented.
The assistant finished taking the oxygen tube out, and went behind the nude figure to help the other to take out the I.V’s from Orlando’s spine, and then help with the rest.
“Once they finish getting you out of there and cleaned up, you can eat with the others if you want,” explained Dr. Jacobs, “Then we’ll talk more.”
‘I don’t want to talk to you, bloody wanker,’ Orlando thought.
He winced at each careful pull on the I.V’s out of his body; this time, he wasn’t screaming like he did a couple of months ago.
That was odd to him. He couldn’t feel much pain, and let alone freezing water.
There were more to these experiments than meets the eye, and he was afraid they weren‘t done with him.
The female assistants held a couple of white towels and a long gown and a pair of pants similar to ones worn in a hospital; waiting for the other assistants finished doing what they were doing, and took him out of his restraints, and held his limp body as they dried and dressed him.
Dr. Jacobs grabbed a handful of Orlando’s grown out hair, and pulled his head back to look at his slightly bearded face.
“Don’t be shocked about the color of your hair or eyes,” he said, “That wasn’t planned, but you’ll never know what your DNA cells would do when you change them around.”
Orlando sneered, but his mouth was too dry to say something back.
The scientist smirked. “Sneer at me all you want, it won’t bring you back to normal, but just be glad that you’re alive.” He released him, and ordered the two male assistance to follow the nurse out of the room to the mess hall to eat.
“I’ll be seeing you later today, Orlando.”
Orlando heard him say behind him as he was helped out the room down the corridor to get some food. He stared in front of him where the nurse was, and swallowed hard.
‘I hate her,’ He thought for a moment before he began to work out a plan.