Fuck You, Mate

Chapter 5: Strange.

I could barely open my eyes.

The overwhelming nausea made it difficult to think of much else aside from how shitty I felt at the moment.

My head was throbbing and my entire body felt like I had run one round of the planet without stopping.

I felt exhausted and everything seemed to hurt.

It was bad enough that even after regaining consciousness, I lay motionless for a good hour and a half, drifting in and out of restless sleep.

Several times I felt the urge to move but mustering the strength for it was near impossible. I couldn't tell how long I just lay there, unmoving.

After what seemed like an eternity I finally felt the uncomfortable sensation beginning to subside. My eyes no longer felt like they had a sack of rice placed over them and I slowly blinked them open.

A dull, patterned ceiling.

"Tasteless." I muttered.

Then in slow, robotic movements, I turned my head from side to side. It was a simple bedroom, hardly any furniture and extremely impersonal.

Even hotel rooms were more homey than this one, it was just bare. But the bed I was lying on was huge, albeit just as plain.

White pillows, white sheets, white comforter, everything was the dullest shade of white you could find.

I tuned away and gulped, forcefully trying to hold back from puking all over myself. The nausea just didn't seem to go away. But first...where was I?

The last thing I recalled was being pounced on by that crazy bastard but if the ache in my nape was anything to go by, he probably bit the life out of me back there.

I reached out to feel the back of my neck, fingers tracing a slightly raised curve on my skin, a bloody mark. I hissed in pain, knowing that it hadn't healed just yet.

What a mess.

But atleast the mattress was soft, I patted the bed slowly. Then supporting myself with my hands, I sat up like it was the most difficult thing in the world. It sure felt like it.

My head seemed to spin, leaving me unfocused for a good minute before I could sit straight. Right in front of me, there was the door.

And the room was devoid of any other person.

Still, I was pretty sure there were no chances of escape from here, given that they dared to leave me alone here.

Anyway, getting off the bed was a challenge. My legs were wobbly and did I mention feeling like I was about to hurl? Cause I was.

Just as I stood up straight, the doorknob turned, making a soft click.

I didn't bother getting defensive, with the way I was, a gust of wind could blow me to the sun and back. So when the door opened, I didn't bother looking, instead climbing back onto the bed.

Might as well be comfortable right now.

I could hear the door closing but I didn't look up, the other person did not speak either and we remained in silence for a while.

"How do you feel?"

It was a male voice, sharp and low.

Without looking up, I answered, "Enraged," then as if I was exchanging greetings, I asked, "and you?"

He chuckled, "Elated, you are aware."

My fists were clenched by my side, and I offered no response. He was right, I knew what he was feeling, because I could feel it too.