Intergalactic Prison

Part 2

My head hurt terribly. Even opening my eyes a sliver to let any light in hurt. I curled up a little, bringing the sheet and blanket over my head to make a protective shield where they met the pillow. Damn. Now my toes were poking out. Ugh. Choices.

My thoughts came slowly. I was in pain; I wasn't at home. I wasn't even wearing a shirt! I swished my legs around, and they felt bare. That wasn't good! I tentatively groped my balls, and was satisfied to feel a pair of briefs. I hadn't had anything to drink in months, had I slipped? As in, majorly? Was...

Terrified, I dealt with the agonizing pain as I looked blearily around me, confirming I was alone in the bland room, before retreating back to my blanket-cave. Whew! Single bed, and I didn't smell any woman-type smells. Nor any sexy-time smells. Thank fucking Christ! Jules would have castrated me!

I sighed, relieved but still confused. So where was I? Did someone pull some stupid prank, God damn it?!? Fuck, my head hurt!

"Mr. Biersack, you have awakened."

I peeked out from my covers and still saw no one. Must have been automated. I grunted, not wanting to give anything away. I really didn't know what I had gotten myself into. It might have been my own fault. But it was still possible that it wasn't.

"Your electromagnetic waveforms indicate a formidable headache. Would you like a dose of a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug of moderate strength, along with a beverage with which to take it?"

I thought about it, and decided that there were plenty of ways to kill me. I might as well take the mysterious, pretentious voice up on the headache medicine, because I couldn't concentrate well enough to make a plan otherwise.

But seriously, what kind off asshole, automated voice-component programmer would assume the average guy off the street knew that an NSAID was for headaches? Most people only knew brand names, geez! "Yeah, thanks."

A little door opened near my feet, above the bed, and a tray slid out. I coaxed myself into a sitting position despite the stabbing daggers in my head. The tray had a glass full of liquid and a packet on it. Ooh, score, extra strength Excedrin! I took them both, and sipped what tasted like water.

Failing to die instantly, I drank about half the glass. Then I curled up, back under the blanket, into my safety cave of darkness. My head was throbbing with evil doom. I knew that if I jumped out of bed, gung-ho, and tried to solve the mystery right away, I'd just end up nauseated and probably vomit.

So I waited, as patiently as I could (not my natural state), hoping the pain would start to diminish soon. I needed to figure out what the fuck was going on, though. I have always been more of an action person, a doer of things and stuff. Hiding under the blankets and waiting for the agonizing pain to abate didn't suit my temperament.