RITPN ✮ Ray x Reader

110945 ✩ I break the afterlife

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It was a non-stop agony. Every molecule in my body felt as if it were screaming in indescribable pain, and within seconds, the pain was all I knew. Then came a static noise, a ringing in my ears. It grew steadily in volume, louder, and louder, as I could only float in this emptiness.

Suddenly, there was nothing. No pain, no sound, no sensation... I was fully in oblivion. So this is the afterlife?

But then came a sound. Faintly, more of a buzz than a voice, as if it came from the back of my mind. It was gone just as quickly as it had come. But then it came again.

'Wake up!'

Light overwhelmed my eyes as I flung awake. I drank in air like I had been starved of it, chest burning as I heaved for breath, and a cold sweat ran down my back. I blinked my eyes furiously. My mind felt bleary, as if my head were stuffed with cotton, and I could hardly piece my thoughts together. Where am I? The hospital? The hell – I thought I was dead?

My eyes finally adjusted to the sudden light, and I became aware of my surroundings. My hands were clenched into fists against the rumpled green blankets of the bed I sat in. My face scrunched as I tried to shake this dreamy feeling away. Something felt ever so slightly off.

"Y/N?" A smiling woman sat to the left of my bed. She wore a long black dress that concealed most of her neck, a perfectly pristine white apron tied overtop; unwrinkled and unstained. Her face was just as well-kempt as her clothes, with short reddish-blonde hair tucked behind her ears, and neatly trimmed bangs framing her delicate features; a small dainty nose, thin rosy lips and piercing green eyes. I was overwhelmed with a sensation of familiarity, so I did not recoil from her touch as she rested one hand on my arm. Her pixie-like face was drawn together in concern as she spoke in a gentle, motherly voice. "Is everything okay?"

The room started to suddenly spin like a top. I flopped back down onto the bed, my head sinking into a cool, fluffy pillow. My neck was prickling in the same cold sweat that dampened my clothes now. "Where am I?" I uttered, and my brow furrowed at my voice. Did I always sound like that?

The woman rested a damp cloth on my forehead, dabbing away at the sweat. "The infirmary," she said.

"The infirmary? Not... Not a hospital?"

"What are you talking about?" The cloth was removed, and cool skin of a hand pressed against my forehead. "Your fever seems to be going down, and you certainly seem better... how do you feel?"

I grunted and sat up again, the cloth flopping off my forehead and into my lap. "I feel like I just got plowed by a damned truck, that's what..."

I stopped short. My eyes finally fell onto the room I was confined to; a sight that was oddly familiar, though I was certain I'd never set foot in a place lit with victorian-style gas lanterns mounted on the walls. Are you shitting me? What century is this?

There was another bed set to my right, with pastel green curtains gathered against the wall, to be pulled open if privacy was needed. Within the room there were several cupboards, two of which were tall and painted white, with glass over the doors so you could see the various medicines and ointments stocked inside. Beside the only window, letting in a drab pale light from outside, was a small wooden table and a chair. On top of the desk sat writing materials in a cup, and a small mug with freshly-picked wildflowers poking out of the top.

I looked again to the woman on my left, as a stone of discomfort began to settle in my gut. The woman's outfit, the room I was in, and when I looked down, the pristine white uniform I was clothed in, ironed to perfection. Was I in Grace Field? The Grace Field? As in, The Promised Neverland Grace Field!?