stock: typewriter


Title: Closest

Word Count: 380

Table Progress: 5/100

Prompt: #91 Examine

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I am making no profit from the use of them. 

The penlight paused, engulfing the pupil and it spiraled outward until only a few millimeters of color remained. Dr. Isaacs heard the steady scrap of pen across paper as his assistant recorded the response and he shifted his wrist. Watched her eyes tracked the movement, follow that bit of light.
He lifted his free hand and tapped his temple. “Focus here.”
She blinked and did as requested, her stare unnerving as he dragged the light across her field of vision. The reflexive tightening and widening of her pupils was nearly instantaneous.
“Interesting.” Her voice took on an undistinguishable accent, tone mocking.
He arched a brow at the flash of personality and quickly cut through the defense. “Have you recalled your name yet?” Her eyes widened and she fell silent, Dr. Isaacs suppressed his smirk of triumph. “There is no need for pouting.”
She took her attention away from the side of his face to pale blue of his eyes. “I’m not pouting.”
“Yes. You are.”
She leaned back, braced her arms against the thin mattress of the examination table and slid back into her mockery of him. “Yes. You are.”
His assistant jotted down a note about the quirk in her personality as Dr. Isaacs clicked off the penlight and pocketed it. He turned and retrieved her chart; his faint amusement with his subject grew into smug satisfaction as he read her current progress. In the three days since the purging, her comprehension and motor skills had doubled and her cognitive abilities tripled from the statistics of the basic examination Walsh had preformed prior to her death.
“Why am I here?”
His hands stilled and he glanced up, curious with the way she had phrased the question. She met his stare head-on as he shifted the conversation to avoid possible questions that could leave him verbally cornered and redirected her focus. “Because I brought you here.”
She frowned, “Why?”
He handed the chart back and stepped forward, brushed a stray hair from her face. “Because you would come the closest.”
She pulled back from his touch, shook her head in confusion and willed the blank slate of her memory to fill, make her whole again. It remained stubbornly empty and she looked up to him. “Closest? To what?”
The End
  • Current Location: Home
  • Current Mood: weird weird
  • Current Music: Techno
This is one where not knowing anything about the film is really helpful, I think.

It's kind of neat because I pretty much know what Buffy knows i.e. not much and it really keeps the suspense, which you just ratcheted up even more, going.

Good job, Ava.
Thank you sweetie and the next section should clear up more of the murkiness. Poor Buffy's in for a bumpy ride...but she can handle it. ;)

I adore your icon!
Damn those evil-doers!! Damn Walsh!!!

It's nice to see Buffy's personality peeking out, though. To know that underneath what they're doing to her there's a tiny spark that is her still there. :D

Great as always!
The next part explains her amnesia in more detail and makes the bad guys worse. I wasn't sure I could do that but then the plot bunny came and told me how. ;-)

Thanks for still reading!