Post by Zep on Feb 12, 2007 19:44:03 GMT -4
I wrote this fanfic on Zep very quickly, after re-watching Saw. He just seemed very interesting and unexplored.
Special
Zep Hindle silently locked the door behind him as he hobbled into his room. Hobbled, because of his limp, and his limp was due to a patient. A man in a wheelchair had backed over his foot, crushing it badly. It still hurt. And that was the beginning of his day.
The man had managed a quick apology he didn’t mean, but that wasn’t what angered and saddened Zep. It was that the man didn’t know his name. There was no excuse for that. For the past two weeks, Zep had replaced the man’s vital fluids, taken samples of his stinking piss, given him sponge bath after disgusting sponge bath and all he wanted was that Mista Edward Cohen would take two seconds to learn the damn name of the man who had been slaving for him for so long-
Calm yourself, Zep. Remember your yoga.
And Dr Gordon. The phenomenal prick. The man who dismissed Zep so easily as just another orderly. But then, everyone dismissed him. He wasn’t Lawrence Gordon, doctor of medicine. He was Zep the orderly. The man with no surname or personality. The man who was there only for your convenience.
Zep sighed deeply, switching on the TV and relaxing to the newest episode of Gilmore Girls.
What had happened to him? The young boy who studied hard? The young man who had a loving girlfriend? The job he wanted? The life he could’ve had?
All gone. Studies meant nothing, for there was always someone better. His girlfriend had left him for another man. After she left, what was the point in trying to get the job he wanted? The life he wanted?
There was nothing left. Only this. No change. No movement. No importance. Zep knew that he was nobody and nothing in this big, bad world. He just shifted through the day, underappreciated, overlooked, forgotten.
No family. No friends. No recognition. No power. No point.
He stood, deciding to cheer himself up with some popcorn. He headed to his kitchen, his hand scrambling for the light, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his fingers. He flicked the light on, and saw something taped to it. Several small, little needles, attached to a complicated device with a clear, glass part. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. He could see an unknown liquid inside. He looked around the kitchen, and saw a tape recording on the kitchen table. Cautiously, he approached, his hand twitching a little in pain.
‘Play me’, was the instruction written on the tape. This was weird. All the same, he obeyed, and a message began playing, a voice. A deep, throaty voice.
‘Hello, Mr. Hindle. Or as they called you around the hospital: Zep. I want you to make a choice. There's a slow-acting poison coursing through your system, which only I have the antidote for. Will you murder a mother and her child to save yourself? Listen carefully, if you will. There are rules.’
He continued to listen. He listened, not with fear, not with anxiety. He listened with an acceptance. He had something. He had power. He was different. Special.
This could be fun. Right?
Special
Zep Hindle silently locked the door behind him as he hobbled into his room. Hobbled, because of his limp, and his limp was due to a patient. A man in a wheelchair had backed over his foot, crushing it badly. It still hurt. And that was the beginning of his day.
The man had managed a quick apology he didn’t mean, but that wasn’t what angered and saddened Zep. It was that the man didn’t know his name. There was no excuse for that. For the past two weeks, Zep had replaced the man’s vital fluids, taken samples of his stinking piss, given him sponge bath after disgusting sponge bath and all he wanted was that Mista Edward Cohen would take two seconds to learn the damn name of the man who had been slaving for him for so long-
Calm yourself, Zep. Remember your yoga.
And Dr Gordon. The phenomenal prick. The man who dismissed Zep so easily as just another orderly. But then, everyone dismissed him. He wasn’t Lawrence Gordon, doctor of medicine. He was Zep the orderly. The man with no surname or personality. The man who was there only for your convenience.
Zep sighed deeply, switching on the TV and relaxing to the newest episode of Gilmore Girls.
What had happened to him? The young boy who studied hard? The young man who had a loving girlfriend? The job he wanted? The life he could’ve had?
All gone. Studies meant nothing, for there was always someone better. His girlfriend had left him for another man. After she left, what was the point in trying to get the job he wanted? The life he wanted?
There was nothing left. Only this. No change. No movement. No importance. Zep knew that he was nobody and nothing in this big, bad world. He just shifted through the day, underappreciated, overlooked, forgotten.
No family. No friends. No recognition. No power. No point.
He stood, deciding to cheer himself up with some popcorn. He headed to his kitchen, his hand scrambling for the light, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his fingers. He flicked the light on, and saw something taped to it. Several small, little needles, attached to a complicated device with a clear, glass part. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. He could see an unknown liquid inside. He looked around the kitchen, and saw a tape recording on the kitchen table. Cautiously, he approached, his hand twitching a little in pain.
‘Play me’, was the instruction written on the tape. This was weird. All the same, he obeyed, and a message began playing, a voice. A deep, throaty voice.
‘Hello, Mr. Hindle. Or as they called you around the hospital: Zep. I want you to make a choice. There's a slow-acting poison coursing through your system, which only I have the antidote for. Will you murder a mother and her child to save yourself? Listen carefully, if you will. There are rules.’
He continued to listen. He listened, not with fear, not with anxiety. He listened with an acceptance. He had something. He had power. He was different. Special.
This could be fun. Right?
