‘An Aspersion In Blue II:C.A.M. Experiment’ by Ahmed Nader Gretly


Someone knocked over an inkbottle inside my cognizance, dense black liquid crept through the deep grooves of my brain, looking for a path to follow in order to make any sense. I tried to form images or letters using these macabre blots, but instead was lost in my own misperception. The darkness was so condensed I felt it pressing around me, striving to penetrate my skin, fill my cells, and be a part of my being. I was utterly numb, all sensory organs were not functioning, which made the state I was in much more disturbing. I had no recollection of the events that led to this dire situation, but after an unknown amount of time, thoughts and memories began bombarding inside my head. The first sensation I began to feel was the warmth of Blue brewing at the pit of my stomach, followed by drowsiness, and a sudden piercing pain that blasted at the front of my skull and in my guts. I tasted dried blood on my lips, which conveyed the realization that my nose was shattered by one of the coppers who busted me at my apartment, and probably the same copper who brought me to this wretched place.

The Blue high was unlike any other high I’ve ever experienced, it gave its user the sensation of being detached from reality, or even rationality, without depriving the user of any motor skills. It enhanced the senses much more than cannabis, but at the same time, the thought process did not become vivid, but precise and accurate. The visions and hallucinations that resulted from ingesting Blue were quite maddening to an extent where the user could actually feel his brain being squeezed and stretched beyond its elastic limit. While these thoughts were sailing the waves of my mind, I realized that my hands and feet were tied to what seemed to be a wooden chair. I shook my head trying to sort my thoughts, but ended up feeling as if my skull was a novelty snow globe. My ears picked up the sound of footsteps, the same sound I’ve heard in my apartment before the coppers walked into my bedroom and arrested me. The door to the room slammed open, and a torrent of white light made my pupils contract and my corneas burn.

“Look what we have here.” Someone said with a voice I’ve never heard before, a bit high pitched yet smooth.

“This here’s Callisto Gretly,” Metal-voiced copper said “A failed writer turned junk dealer turned nobo.”

“I see you’ve had a very productive life, copper.” I said with a crackling voice. My eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light yet, but I could hear a stir in the coppers footsteps, which seemed to be coming toward me.

“Stop.” The high pitched voice said in a firm tone, and the sound of the combat-booted footsteps ceased.

“Mr. Gretly is our guest,” the high pitched voice added “We do not want to be bad hosts now, do we?”

“No, sir.” The metal-voiced copper replied.

My eyes began to adjust to the light, and I saw two blurred figures standing in front of me, the blur faded away and the picture became clear. The metal-voiced copper stood by the door with folded arms, and a man with a blond crew-cut in a black suit stood with a smile on his face that did not look fake, but sinister with madness glimmering right out of it. A blast of Blue shot inside my body, and my mind suddenly sparked. I took a deep breath and looked around the room, to find that the metal-voiced copper’s face transforming rapidly into what looked like a pig’s face, but with the facial bone structure of a canine. I turned to the man in the black suit to find him about three feet taller, with a hunched back and a saggy face that looked as if it was melting off his skull. I noticed for the first time that the room I was being held captive was not that large, its walls, ceiling, and floor made of solid grey concrete. I looked up at the black-suited man’s face and kept staring with a neutral look, one of which I had perfected over the years.

“Do you know of an older man known only by the nickname ‘The Doctor’, Mr. Gretly?” the black-suited man asked, his voice slithering into my ears.

“No,” I answered without thinking.

“But Mr. Gretly,” he said “We have strong reasons to believe that you are in fact one of his most trusted associates.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But Mr. Gretly,” he said stretching the ‘y’ “We know that you are currently on the drug that he’s been creating, code name ‘Blue’.”

“No idea!” I said.

“Fine!” he yelled, walking around me. “There are other methods to loosen your lips.”

Unexpectedly, I felt a noose being tied around my neck, and in less than five seconds, the noose tightened and I hung midair by the throat. I chocked trying to say anything, but all that came out was spit. The pressure in my head increased, and I could hear the sound of my heart beats pounding at my eardrums. I flexed the muscles in my neck to keep the tight noose from blocking my air shaft, but this resulted in the rope cutting deep into my skin. I held on as long as I could. The black-suited man appeared in front of me, his head, slouched down was on the same level as mine. I stared into his yellow eyes as he stretched his index finger at me, putting it on my lips. He cut the rope with his other hand using a small blade, and I fell on the solid floor.

“How much Blue does The Doctor have?” he said.

I coughed blood on the grey floor, my throat hurt like hell, and I couldn’t breathe. The blood kept spilling out of my mouth, but my burning eyes still stared at his.

“I don’t know.” My voice was coarse.

He disappeared for a second, and came back with a pear shaped metallic instrument at the end of which a thick pointed needle stuck out. He approached me with it, forced my mouth open, and stuffed the device (which barely fit) between my teeth.

“You asked for this, Mr. Gretly.” His high pitched voice struck my ears like a whip.

The metal-voiced copper looked upon the scene with a large smirk on his animalistic face, as the black-suited man began turning the top of the device, which made its leaves to slowly separate, stretching my jaw with them. I heard a tiny pop in my ears, and everything went silent. My eyes focused on his yellow irises and his droopy face, as I breathed through the cold metal leaves. He stopped and turned his head to the copper, who opened the door and stood staring outside .Something was wrong. The copper fell on his back and a splotch of crimson was visible on his piggish forehead. The man in the black suit let go of the device and raced towards the copper, then turned around and yelled something to me, which I couldn’t hear. He took out his gun and crouched down with his back to the wall right next to the open door. He slowly tried to sneak a look at what was going on outside, but the second his head pocked out of the open door, the concrete room was spray painted with his blood, and bits of his brain scattered on me as I lay motionless on the floor. I was about to pass out with the metallic contraption stuck inside my mouth, when I saw familiar faces hovering over me. Someone unscrewed the contraption, and took it out of my mouth. My jaw cracked bringing back my hearing.

“Took you long enough…” I coughed “I need to know what the fuck is going on here.”

“There, there, love” Mary said putting her soft hand on my forehead “Don’t tire yourself, me and The Doctor will take care of you.”

With that, I closed my eyes, her sweet face still hovering behind my eyelids.


About Ahmed Gretly

Ahmed Nader Gretly. Construction/Site Engineer, fiction writer, poet, psychopath, researcher, a book addict, and a daydreamer from Cairo, Egypt. Currently doing Construction Project Management, MSc, at Heriot-Watt University, Edinburgh.
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