The Dark Side of the Moon

Chapter 4: Florence

-Florence’s P.O.V-

As I awoke, my senses were in turmoil. The nauseating smell of disinfectant and stale, stuffy air hit my nose first. After that, I detected the metallic smell of blood, barely concealed by the air freshener that compelled me to sneeze.

All of my muscles felt sore and my body ached in every place possible. I felt drained, as if I had recently run a marathon or used up all of my energy. The firm, uncomfortable bed underneath me was no help to my current state. I forced my eyes to open and took in the scene around me.

I was in a hospital, that much I was certain of. The small, plain room that I was in, held a lonely chair moping in the corner and a small bedside table by my right. On my left was a lump of machines and wires, none of which I could make sense of. My left arm had an IV implanted into it and my body throbbed with pain. I didn't dare look at the damage, not yet. I could feel the tight roughness of a thick bandage around my forehead, and now that I was aware of my wounds, the pain came to life.

I could feel numerous small cuts on my arms and legs that stung and a few grazes on my shins that tingled. My head pounded as if I were nursing an incredible hangover and I felt as if I was about to vomit. But the worst pain of all was nestled on my stomach, just above my belly button. It felt as if I had been sliced by a knife and the injury had been sprinkled with salt. I choked on my intake of breath my eyes watered at the pain.

I lifted my head up, the effort dizzying me for a few seconds. When the sensation had passed, I inspected my wounds and gasped at the sight. My ankle peeked out from underneath the long hospital gown, and I turned it from left to right slowly, inspecting the damage. I could remember the animal biting down there, but instead of a bloody mess as expected, only a scar was visible. It seemed odd that I had healed so fast, and I couldn't even see any stitches to aid the process either.

I spent the next few minutes peeking under my gown and looking at my arms and legs with fascination. The memory of my attacker tearing into my body with sharp claws was fresh and clear, but I had no bleeding cuts or scratches to show for it. Where you would expect the cuts to be, I had only red, recently closed wounds that felt raw and itchy to touch. The meds that the doctors had here must be out of this world to achieve such a result.

At last, I had to give into the temptation to look at my stomach. After all, it hurt the most and I was curious to see what it would be. A gaping hole in my belly, barely covered by bandages soaked through with blood? It sure felt like that would be the case. My fingers touched the reddened skin and scar tissue with wonder. There was hardly any blood on my stomach either. I prodded at the wound a little to hard and hissed with pain, a drop of blood welling up from where the thin tissue had broken. It increased in size and spilled towards the floor in a red line.

This couldn't be possible. I wasn't so naive as to think that this was normal behaviour for the human body, especially after such a brutal attack. And despite my thoughts, I somehow knew that this was not the work of medicine. Even if it was incredibly advanced, it would not force my body to heal so quickly. Perhaps it would dull the pain more than expected, but no amount of medicine could physically heal such wounds in such little amount of time. It just didn't add up.

My head was dizzy thinking of all the possibilities. Why was this happening? What was wrong with me?

A machine next to me began to erratically beep in a high pitched, shrill noise and I cringed away from it. The door was yanked open not a second later and a nurse bustled in anxiously. As soon as she saw that I was awake, she smiled sympathetically and walked to the doorway.

“Amanda, could you get the morphine for patient 214 please?” her voice barely registered in my ears and I feared that I was going to faint from my lack of air. What was wrong with me? I tried my best to inhale, but the crippling pain caused it to hurt, so I stopped short.