Subcutaneous Magazine Fall 2016 - Page 37

felt himself slipping into depression as he rested against the soft mattress. A new nurse entered his room, Harry noted, not the same one who had given him whatever drug had put him to sleep. This one was beautiful and had a great body, accentuated by her her tight scrubs. Harry wondered if she had done this on purpose to show off for the doctors. He had known women like that a lifetime ago, and they were good for little but a night or two of fun in a hotel or on his yacht. “She’s going to hurt you,” the familiar voice hissed in his ear. Harry tried to speak, but he couldn’t. He wanted to ask who the voice was and how it knew what it knew. The nurse saw that Harry was conscious, trying to communicate. “You’re not supposed to be awake,” she said, walking toward him. “Do NOT let her near you,” the whispering voice warned. Maybe it didn’t know movement of any kind was close to impossible. He couldn’t stop the nurse from whatever the voice thought she was going to do. Who ARE you? Harry thought. The voice didn’t answer. The nurse looked Harry over, taking swift glances at notes on a clipboard. “She has hurt others in this place,” ѡٽ)ݡɕqQݼٔ)͔ȁݥհt($)!՝Ѽ)ٔЁ́ѥ)ݽձeЁѕѼ́Ʌe)̸($)Q͔)ٕȰѥȁ͔́)Ѽ́ȸqM՝ݽe)Գt͡ͅ!)ձ͵ȁəյ)MɅ́ѕѥ̰Օ饹ѥѱ丁!Ёɕ͠)аɕѡɽ՝ѡ锁̸!)ݡ䁉ɹܰѕɽѡչɝ٥ɥѡ͔MȁɕͥѼɕե͠!݅́ݕɱ́Ѽѽȸq$ԁ)ѡ̳t͡хչѕ͵ɕѼȁ($)Q͔䁱ЁMٕ݅䁙ɽ!䰁хɅаѥեѼ͵M)́ݥѠ݅́ɕ)ɔɅ͠%͕ѡ́ݽ͵)ѡ́ȰݽձٔѡѼЁȁѼ)ȁѡи9ܰѡ՝݅ѕѼ)ѡ͡ЁЁѡэ($)ѡȁɥձȁե݅́ѕ)Ѽ́%XɥѼѡ̰ݕ()Ёٕȁѡѽɔѡݡє)ɽ($)!é́ɅЁݽͽݡɔɕаȁٕɕ́)̰́丁!ѽ)ɽ́ЁɔЁи!ͅ܁̰ɥ)Ѡɽ́لU䁍ɕɕ́Ʌݱ)ͱٕɕɽٕ̰٥Ёѡɽ)ɽչ͕٥ݥѠ̰͹ɱ)Qݼȵɕɕ́͡аѼ)ѡɽ䁝ɽչQȁ́՜Ѽ)ѡɽ́ЁѼѡ́͠($)ɕɽݡɔ݅ѽ݅ɐ)!ɭѡ̸QɅ)͍她Ѽ́ѡɽ̸!݅)Ց͍ձȰͽ!Ё)!䁙ɽѡɽչqQɔ́)ѼȰ䁙ɥt)ͅ($!ɕ镐)ѡٽ%Ё݅́ѡ)ݡݡɕѼ)ѡݡєɽ)݅ɹݡ)݅́($qe̳tѡͅ+q%Ё́$́$ͅ)ٔѡѼȸ%)а$݅ЁԸe)ͽհ́ѡѕɥ)ɥٔѡЁե)ѡѡЁ́مՕɔ)$ȁԁչѽݕȁɥ́役)ѡԁٕٔ)eԁ)хєȁѥհݽͥѡ)ɕ̸$)ȁԁѡ٥ɝ)ԁ݅аɽ՝Ё䰁ѡЁ́ȁͥɔt($q]ӊét!䁅ͭ+qݡѡՍɔ)t($Q՝+qٕݡѡAɥɭ̰ԁ͡)ՍɅمtͅ($)!хɕ!ɽչɕ饹)ѡݕȁѼ́ݸՕѥ($+qeȁ䁡́хєՍՅѥt)ѡͅqЁѡ́аЁ́ɑɕи)eԁɔͼԁɔݸɔݥѠ)ݽ䰁ѡݥɥԁͽ՝t($+q́ȁݡ$tѡѥՕq$1ՍȰѡ́́䁭t($)!ɕ́ɵ̸($)!䁹ȁ݅ѕѼѡɔq9u)ѕɕ($+qeԁͅ䁹ɔ$ٕѕԁݡЁ$ݥ͠)Գt1Սȁ՝q$ͽձ̸́((0