Essay by spoonman419 August 2004

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It was the fourth day. Nico entered the cold, dim cell. Inside was a weak, skinny man who seemed as though he hadn't eaten for days. He was young, but it wasn't obvious, his skin had become prematurely wrinkled and he definitely did not have the energy of a young man. He simply sat in the corner of his cell, staring at the floor dejectedly, not daring to make eye contact with Nico.

"It's time for your dose," said Nico.

Nico was a beautiful dark woman. She wore a grey business suit with a grey tie. She had a full figure and she was incredibly strong. She waited a few seconds impatiently for a response, and repeated herself slightly louder than before.

"I said, it's time for your dose."

The man slowly lifted his head and turned towards Nico.

"I don't want my dose," he said quietly.

Nico paused briefly and looked around.

"You don't want your dose? Is something wrong, sweetie?"

The man thought about his response long and hard, not wanting to upset Nico in any way.

"I... just don't feel like a dose right now," he said trying not to make eye contact with her dark, glaring eyes.

"Honey, you have to have your dose or you'll get ill. You know that," Nico told him reassuringly.

He thought about it long and hard, Nico had never been wrong in the past, the last time he had missed a dose, he felt terrible.

"I... I... guess you're right."

Nico carefully pulled a syringe out of a holster on her belt. She pulled a vial out of her pocket and began loading the syringe with a murky, viscous brown liquid.

"Arm," she said without flinching.

The man held out his arm towards Nico and...