"David"
The lights flicker as a figure appears in front of him, and David sobs, shaking his head and tugging at his hair. The person in front of him smiles wickedly, letting his arm fall so that the axe he carried cracked the tiles it landed on. David splutters as he stares into the black pits of the other's eyes. "David." He sings, tauntingly as he chuckles, head twitching inhumanely. David falls to his knees, covering his head with his arms as he wailed. The man - no - a closer look at the greying skin, tar black holes baring into his skull that oozed a liquid unknown, the smell of decay that knocked him sick... The noose. This man was no stranger, he was an imposter, the parts of David that ate away at his sanity in exchange for keeping him content. He flinches as the metal blade of the axe is scraped along the ground as the man lifts it once more. "Wake up, David." A head splitting pain fills David's mind as the axe is brought down, and all he can do is scream.
A hand closes around his arm as he thrashes, eyes snapping open as his own voice fills his ears, lungs burning and stomach weak as he rolls over to vomit.
"David, it's alright. I've got you." The doctor rubs soothing circles into the space between David's shoulder blades. David's body shook as he cried, clawing at the sheets as he slowly recovered from his nightmare. The voice spoke calmly, unknowing of the horrors David had witnessed just moments before. His voice breaks as he attempts to speak, as if the doppelgänger still had a grip on him. "David, you're alright, you're safe." Fresh tears streamed down his face, the doctor squeezed David's shoulder. "When you're ready, make your way outside, okay?" The man in white leaves, and David notices fresh set of clothes on the edge of his bed. He shudders as he recalls the dried vomit on his gown, and sheds it immediately. Eagerly, he dons the new clothes, not being too keen on wearing only a hospital gown. His body ached as he moved, muscles stiff and refusing to function. He felt lightheaded and nauseous despite having an empty stomach. David stands, feeling the blood go to his head as his vision momentarily blurs. He staggers out of the door, tiles cooling his feet as he went. When he stepped out, the doctor greeted him with a smile and offered him his arm, adamantly, David stumbled forward, determined to make his own way. His legs buckled and he swayed unceremoniously before collapsing against the wall. The doctor frantically strode over to the man, slinging an arm over his shoulder and hauling him up. He takes the majority of David's weight and guides him down the corridors, the many doors framing the walls, the twists and turns that made his stomach churn, every new ward that looked the same - the surplus of hallways that never seemed to end nor differ from each other; the waning patients. Something wasn't right. The doctor pulls him into his office and sits him down carefully, but with a force David is too weak to overpower. He makes his way behind the desk and relaxes into the plush leather chair. He sets his hands clasped down on the table and stares at David intently. All was quiet except for the incessant droning of the ceiling fan, and the doctor took a long breath. "Okay, David. Let's start simple." He pauses, making sure David was listening. "I know you can't remember much, but about a week ago, some paramedics found you passed out in a hospital bathroom..." His brow furrowed, lines appearing on his aged forehead as he gesticulated for a few seconds before looking solemnly at him once more. "Tests ran on you showed our suspicions . You had overdosed on painkillers, so right now, you're in rehabilitation under court orders." He lets this sink in, David licks his lips nervously. He nods and all of a sudden, he's shaking. "You're very lucky, David. Your heart stopped for four minutes." David swallows hard, picking at his fingers. All he could remember was blacking out - a horrible nightmare that felt all too real, and then... Everything was fuzzy.
"It's not all bad though, we pumped your stomach and removed the toxins. Although I'm afraid... Things will only be more difficult from this point on." The doctor's face straightened, staring at David with soft, sympathetic eyes. "But let's worry about that later. Right now, we should start with the basics. This hospital isn't that bad, you know? You have your own room, there's a courtyard and a commons room where, eventually, you can bring family in." He stopped, questioning, "Do you have any family, David?"
"No, sir." He replies earnestly, keeping his gaze fixed to the floor. The man in white nodded understandingly, "Well, maybe you'll make some friends while you're here." He changed the subject, as not to pry into matters later to be discussed. David shakes his head. "I doubt it, sir. I barely know myself without the high." His voice breaks, and he blinks away the burning in his eyes. He felt unbelievably cold, but his skin was hot to the touch, it almost felt like bugs were crawling under his flesh. The doctor nods grimly,
"Let's leave it at this for now, you know where I am if you need me." He leans over to his desk drawer and pulls out a plastic wallet of papers, handing them to David. "I recommend you have a look around, it's really not so bad." His voice is smooth and gentle, DAvid nods curtly as a response, shakily standing up and clutching the papers to his chest. "I'll see you soon David."
David doesn't answer. He walks out and shuts the door behind him, leaning against the wall in silent despair.
"Fuck." He sighs, rubbing his face with the tips of his fingers. His eyes burn and he sniffs, deciding to go back to his room so he can mull over it. The pack of papers contained a map, marked in red ink with his room, the canteen, courtyard and commons room. He heads back down the winding corridors to his room, head spinning with how similar everything looked. Inside his room; 45, was a box carefully placed on his bed. He raised a brow and set down the papers to inspect it. Inside the box was some basic items, a bar of soap, a toothbrush and some toothpaste, a flannel and a change of clothes. A towel and a clock lay at the bottom. 'The door must be a bathroom' he thinks to himself. David sat on his bed and opened the paper packet. Several sheets lay inside, a letter of some kind with a form attached, the map, a timetable and a pen. David read through the letter, rolling his eyes. Whoever wrote this made this place sound like a hotel rather than a rehab. His eyes scanned the form, clicking the pen absentmindedly and mumbling out the questions to himself.
"Confirm the following data: Name - David Leatherhoff. Date of birth - 11/7/92. Age - " David lets out a brief chuckle, rolling his eyes before writing the figure down. "Place of residence - " He paused.
Before he woke up here, he'd been kicked out of his apartment for not paying rent, he'd been living in his car for the last three months prior. Hell, he hadn't even touched a bed until he was in intensive care for a fucking drug overdose.
He scribbled down a hasty 'N/A'.
"Any immediate family?"
David hesitated.
'N/A'
David fills out the rest of the form without incident and sighs, setting the papers on the table next to him. He puts a hand to his forehead and settles that arm on his knees, deep in thought. He closes his eyes, the room silent except for his raspy breathing. When he opens his eyes again, the timetable catches his attention. He looks at the time, and then the paper. It was half five in the afternoon, meaning it was dinner. David's stomach constricts at the thought of food, his skin prickles with heat and he rushes to the bathroom to dry heave. He rinses his mouth with water, and lies down, rubbing his face weakly. This was going to be a difficult experience.
YOU ARE READING
Cry Of Monsters.
Fanfiction"It all started when he woke up - again. He'd been drifting in and out for days on days until finally, he stayed in a state of somewhat consciousness that could be considered awake, and he'd never felt worse."
