[B][U]Chapter 6: Get angry
I was startled awake by yelling. Not the type of yelling between a husband and wife or disgruntled neighbors; but the type of yelling where your door is busted open afterwards. Nick and Terri were yelling along with the same large black man from before; the same one who kidnapped me two days ago. I still remembered his gruff voice. It was like a loud bass was implanted in the man’s throat. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it didn’t matter. The man came over to me, putting a white cloth rag over my face. I passed out instantly.
When I awoke, I wasn’t in such a ‘happy’ place anymore. I woke up hazily, light headed and a little irritated. Remembering what happened, I tried to sit up. I couldn’t though. I took note of my helpless condition, realizing that I was being held down by four straps. One was on each of my legs, and each of my arms. I also saw that I was wearing an absolutely ridiculously thick cloth diaper with plastic pants. I’d never worn a cloth diaper before… this was new. I had sometimes been able to sneak diapers into my house; but it was seldom that I’d have the guts to do it.
“Where am I?!” I screamed as best I could. I then heard laughing. An old, withered laugh.
“Good good, Mr. Hawk! Get angry, get mad!” I heard the voice taunt and then threaten. “Because when you’re out of here, you won’t have enough strength to GET angry!” I turned my head, and standing to my right were two men. The one talking was a shorter, older man, with black and graying hair. The other was much slimmer, younger and… well, you get the picture.
“Wh-who are you?” I stammered. ”
Me?” The older man asked. “I’m William Dover. This is my son,” he said, motioning to the younger man, “William Dover Junior.” I was shocked. The man behind my kidnapping me- was this old guy? He was so short and ugly! And he was standing… right next to me? This didn’t make sense.
“Where am I?” I demanded.
“Why, you’re in your dream world Tristian! This is where your dreams will come true!” He taunted. His son snickered.
The room I was what looked like a hospital room, only more child-like. The bed I was in had bars on it, something I hadn’t noticed earlier due to the grogginess. There were bears and ducks on the wall, all smiling; and a playpen with a diaper genie next to it. There was a rug on the floor that looked like the one a younger cousin of mine had. Then again, my family had kind of ceased contact with them, so whether or not he still has it I don’t know. It was the kind that you could put your toy cars on and move them around the city due to its motif. I looked back to Dover.
“What do you mean?” I asked teary eyed. “You’re in our state of the art regression clinic. You’re here to be regressed to an infant.” Dover Junior said blatantly. The man got right to his point.
“W-what? What do you mean? I don’t want to! Let me out of here!” I yelled.
“If you ever want to see your family again, I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut!” Dover threatened. He slapped me hard across the face. I yelped and sniffled but was somehow able to withhold crying. I was shocked more than anything, but also frightened.
“Now listen up you brat! You’re going to do what we tell you to, like it or not. You’ll be regressed to a baby in no more than seven days. You better pray that your father and those damn cops give in to my father’s demands!” Dover Junior stated. He walked out of the room at that moment, along with his father while I was left alone. I could have sworn that I saw him mouth something along the lines of “I pray they do too,” as he left.
The two walked down hallway after hallway, stopping at a large glass door. They walked in, and then took a left. They entered through a wooden door, and came to William Dover’s office. The older man sat down on his chair at his desk, whilst his son sat down on a chair in front of him.
“You think this is really going to work dad?” Dover junior asked, then added, “Jacob was the same way as this kid, but he was never fully regressed; it’s been six months already with him. Given he was a tougher nut to crack, but-”
“It doesn’t have to, that’s not our goal here.” The father stated.
“What do you mean?” His son questioned.
“Son, growing up I had a very hard time living. The only reason I got by was by manipulating people. You already know this. I know how to screw with people’s heads. That boy’s twat of a father is no different!” He growled sternly. “All we need to do is show him his son, and get him to give us the plot of land, and then we are golden!” He said triumphantly.
“I don’t think Delilah would care for that though…” Dover Jr. mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Oh, nothing; nothing at all dad…”
