You skied down the snow-covered slope of the mountain, your hair flying behind you.
Skiing was something you had done your whole life. You had even grown up to become a part time ski-instructor, teaching others to ride the hills as you had.
Sadly, this ride would be your last.
You pushed ahead of your partner, laughing as you did.
'Ill race you to the bottom!' You yelled over your shoulder.
You looked back at your partner in glee, who was gesturing frantically. You couldn't hear what he was yelling at you, the wind was roaring in your ears.
You didn't notice the patch of ice, before you skidded over it.
You failed to control yourself fast enough,desperately trying to regain your balance as you toppled down.
A slicing pain ripped down your spine, as everything went black.
*********
Your eyes flew open, the last few images of your dream still swimming through your mind. You tried to get up, but failed. Then, the memory came back.
It had been three months since the accident.
Your legs had become paralysed because of your treacherous fall, and you had spent a lot of your money trying to restore the damage. Needless to say, it hadn't worked.
You manoeuvred yourself into your wheelchair and started to fix yourself breakfast.
A yellow sticky-note on your fridge caught your eye. You had scribbled it a few weeks ago. New York Sanctum, it said.
The name had been given to you by a friend. She had said that it could help you with your 'condition' as she had put it .
You had been toying with the idea since then. You were willing to do anything to fix your legs, but it didn't seem real.
Even when you had called an operator in New York to ask about this, there had been no result.
But, in a world where aliens flew through the sky, nothing seemed impossible anymore.
********
You wheeled your way into the 'Sanctum', looking in awe at the grandeur around you. The building was completely deserted, winding staircases leading to an upper level.
You gazed up at the stairs, regretting coming here. This place looked more like an old library than a hospital. Moreover, it seemed to be deserted.
Footsteps sounded above you.
Even though there was nothing to fear, your heart leapt into your throat. Ghosts, your mind thought incoherently, and you suppressed a laugh at your own stupidity.
The man appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
His face was sharp and angular, his eyes a piercing green. His salt-and-pepper hair was slickly combed back, and he wore a strange, high-collared, red cloak. It seemed to float, independent of him.
'Hello. Can I help you? Are you lost?' His voice was pleasant, but he looked surprised. Maybe there weren't many people here.
'Um...' You cleared your throat.
'I just....I was told that, I could be helped here.' You gestured to your legs.
'It's getting very....hard for me.' You admitted, shrugging.
The man smiled. 'Well, I can help you... But.....'
'I have money, if you want it.' The last of your savings were in your backpack.
'No, no.' He shook his head. 'I want to help you, but it will take effort. Lots of it, in fact.'
'I'm willing to do anything.'
'Very well.' He said. He was quite tall, you noticed, as he came down the stairs.
'I'm (Y/n).'
'Hello (Y/n). I'm Stephen. Now, shall we begin?'
-KS
