Everything is dark again, the droning bell still ever-present, ever deafening. For a while, it is no different from how it was before, but this time, the ringing fades just enough for the shroud to lift. Beyond it, I hear something new.
Rocks crunching. Deep, gruff voices barking and growling like lions. Distant pops followed by faint thwacks like lead raindrops thrumming windows of sheet metal. All of it muffled by the fading, shrill din. Something must be making the noise, but I can't see it. No matter how hard I try, the dark persists even with the bells going silent.
...
Who is there?
I try to open my eyes, and nothing happens. I try again, still nothing. Is it because I'm still asleep, standing blind in that inky black dreamscape? No, I don't think so. The dream's endless ringing still echoes in the back of my skull, but all the sounds of lions and gravel have been replaced by something else. As the new sounds grow in volume, so too do my limbs take shape and eyelids lighten. I try moving them again, and a vaguely familiar voice takes notice.
"-----?" It asks as my eyelids flutter. I'd try to move my arms as well, but they don't feel real just yet. More like the arms of a lightly-used ballistic dummy; the remains of something human-adjacent, but too amorphous and fake to be even close to the real thing.
"P-p-r!" The voice exclaims, my ears becoming clearer. Dull feeling seeps back into my legs, with the foggy form of my body slowly taking shape again as I finally wake up.
Blurry rings of black and gray are all I can see, all centered on one shifting dot. Something moves above it as though the dot were a porthole, but it's way too large and fast to be a bird or stray leaf, so its more likely a fighter jet. Do hospitals even have skylights? Am I in a med bay?
At that though, a bullet of splitting pain shoots through my head and ricochets against my bones, making them creaks with countless breaks. My skin, which feels about as hot as the sun, stings with small cuts and bruises, including two spots on my scalp and shoulder that pulsate with smoldering heat. A noise like a strangled dog escapes my mouth.
"Piper!" The masculine voice booms. I feel like I should know who it belongs to somehow, but no names come to mind. "Piper, stay still. Your body's in shambles and shifting will cause further damage. Brace."
"Brace for wha-" something big stabs into my left arm, and I growl in pain. Turns out, it's the biggest fucking needle I've ever laid eyes upon. The tube looks so wide that I could probably fit the tip of my pinky into the sharp end.
"It's Acetaminophen," the man says. "To bring your fever down, and perhaps reduce some of the pain you're experiencing." I try to look up at him, but can't make anything out beyond the needle's shaft. Everything is too blurry, and for some reason feels really far away.
Once the pipe leaves my flesh, a large white towel is forcefully squeezed against the resulting wound by two flattened metallic beams. They pinch my limb so forcefully that it feels like they're shaking with effort, straddling the line between cutting off the blood supply to my hand and breaking the bone completely. "What the hell are you doing?! Stop!"
"No, I'm stopping the bleeding. I didn't have a smaller needle gauge on hand so the size of the wound relative to you is large enough to bleed a considerably large amount, more than your body will be able to withstand losing. Honestly it's miraculous that you're still alive, let alone conscious right now. The volume of chemicals in your bloodstream should have killed you hours ago." The man's words come out in strings without space for breath or reason. I want to make him stop, but the pain is too overwhelming to think straight!
YOU ARE READING
Breaking Point
Science Fiction29-year-old Piper Point is a special ops agent that finds herself stranded in an unknown location with no memory of how she got there. Confusion turns to panic when she realizes that not only was she completely lost, but she'd also somehow become qu...