23: Oliver Twisted (Head)

For the first time in two years, Oliver Chastain set foot outside the Llewellyn Price Rehabilitation Facility. Dr. Rabten was standing next to him, smiling warmly.

“I'm very proud of you, Oliver,” he said. “You've made so much progress.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” Oliver replied. “Thanks...for everything.”

A bus pulled up to the curb. “Well...there you are,” the doctor said. He held out his hand, which Oliver accepted. Then, Chastain picked up his duffel bag and walked toward the street.

He got on the bus, and saw that most of it was occupied. They all seemed to be preoccupied with something—their phones, newspapers, or just staring out the window.

Oliver sat down in the one remaining seat. He was nervous—a little scared, even—but excited. This was his chance to start over, and he wasn't about--

“Hey, buddy,” said the man sitting next to him. His voice sounded very familiar.

“T...Troy?” Oliver asked.

“You got it,” Troy said, and folded his paper. “How you been, dude? You look great, gotta say. No homo.”

Oliver folded his arms, as if he were trying to maximize the distance between himself and his old friend. “I'm...not supposed to talk to you anymore.”

“What? Is that any way to talk to an old friend? And we came all this way just to pick you up!”

Chastain turned away from Troy, and found that the other patrons of the bus were looking at him.

They were all Troy.

“We're getting the band back together,” one of them said.

Another chimed in, “We're on a mission from God.”

They high fived over a sweet movie reference, then grabbed Oliver's arms and pinned them to the seat, while the copy in the seat in front of him opened a small silver case. It revealed a length of rubber tubing, a syringe, and a small bottle.

Oliver recognized it instantly. “No! Please...Troy, don't do it!”

“Orders is orders, chief,” a Troy said, and wrapped the tube around Oliver's right arm. Another one prepared the drug and needle. Oliver kept trying to escape, but the others had him held tight.

“Hey, just be thankful the veins in that arm haven't collapsed. Otherwise we'd have to take off your pants. Now quit moving; you're gonna make me miss.” Troy turned to one of the others. “This is the right way to do it, right?”

The other one shrugged. “Sure.”

“No! Please! I was clean! I WAS CLE--”

Troy stuck the needle into Oliver's arm, and pushed down the plunger. Oliver felt a familiar rush, and soon his tears turned to broken laughter. A yellow glowing field surrounded his body, and he slowly rose up out of his seat and into the air.

“Feelin' better, buddy?” asked one of the Crowd.

“Yeeeesssssss...”