In that postanesthetic semi-consciousness, head throbbing like you’d taken a frying pan to the skull, you jerked to sit up in that violent reflex human bodies do when subjected to mass volumes of electricity. The sharp metal bindings around your limbs dug into your bones.
A woman’s voice came from behind you. “Ygor.” Unthrown switches clunked from where you couldn't see. Through the blinding blue pulse that filled your vision, you could make out the stumpy silhouette of that freak through the blur. And he was standing there, inches from your face, glaring at you like you were some wad of viscera on the bottom of his boot.
“Ygor!”
Shaken from the vitriol, his head snapped up. Hiding his resentment from the doctor, he dutifully unhooked your shackles with practiced hands. With a grunt, you were heaved over a shockingly strong shoulder! Far too discombobulated to process anything, your brain felt like it’d been liquified by a Spe-Dee Wee-Nee. Before you could wriggle or kick, Ygor was already halfway down the hall.
“The doctor was not happy you got into the manor… But-!” Hefting your limp body with a jostle, he patted you on the back. “Ygor can be very persuasive. After all, my little lab rat is in no condition to be out there in the wilderness, fending for themself…” He punctuated his sentence with a manic little cackle at the idea.
He had this unique talent, by some miracle, to make you even more uneasy with whatever you may have been entrapped into. Sensing this, he added, “Do not worry! Ygor take very good care of you…”
Dropping his voice low, the sickening satisfaction in his tone resonated down the stone hallway. “You will make an excellent lab assistant!”