Snippet #1740782

West Wing Corridor/Solitary Confinement
0730 - 0750

One punch was all Devan intended, though after throwing one he was tempted toward more. But before he even had time to eye the formidably-sized nurses lurking closer, they swiftly moved in to take hold of him. Naturally they first grabbed his arms, which had already begun whipping back and forth in an attempt to punch whatever staff member came closest. Devan's fists only managed to skim a few chins and cheeks, failing to land any solid blows that would free him. He squirmed with all his force and did his best to kick while maintaining his footing. When this didn't work, he paused as if worn out just long enough that the nurses would lower their guard... and then suddenly tried spinning around to twist free, but the staff restraining him held their grip so he only ended up twisting his own arms and entangling himself in theirs. In his pausing to catch his breath the staff then moved to gain further grip on his shoulders to keep him from spinning again, which set him into another writhing frenzy.

In his next break for breath, he noticed the teal-haired girl had been taken away. He figured the nurses hadn't been trying to move him yet because they were first trying to get a good hold, but his eyes widened when he caught sight of the nurse who had been behind the counter approaching - with a syringe. Devan resumed his struggling but the nurses had a firm hold now. He tried to stay focused and alert, but seconds after the prick of the needle in his hind end he felt himself growing drowsy. A minute later his eyes became heavy and his vision blurred. He still felt a sense of urgency, but his body wouldn't act on it and his thoughts were scattered, as if his brain was lagging like an old computer.

Next he knew, he was sat down in a wheelchair. He shut his eyes as he worked to regain his senses, his head lolling back restlessly. Still he tried to stand up every few seconds, but each time the staff would just gently push him back into his seat. The halls were a blur of light and color with the occasional figures of passing staff.

Then he felt himself being pulled from the wheelchair, and though he tried to wriggle free some more his efforts were in vain and he was quickly pushed into a dark room. He staggered forward to land on all fours, finding the floor padded. A padded room. Great. Just where everyone had always told him he should be. Dazed, Devan stumbled to his feet and turned around to totter into the door uselessly. There was no handle on the inside, so there was no chance it was open this time. Sliding down to sit, Devan then resigned to crawl to a corner beside the door. The sedative made him no good for escaping now, so he would have to wait until it wore off, and then he would lunge for the first person to open that door....