Her

Part Four:

My eyes flutter.

I try to move any part of me, anything, but I am completely still and non-existent.

I can feel myself twitch, or am I thinking that I am twitching? Where is my mind? What are these thoughts?

'Move...move please...' I command my eyelids. They flutter again, and snap open. Everything is mostly dark, with a dim light coming from my left, some distance away. I can move my neck and body now, out of my uncanny and eldritch paralysis. I slowly sit up, wincing from soreness. I feel something sticking out of my arm and notice a IV attached to a medicine bag, a computer screen with my irregular heartbeat emitting a faint glow, hence the light.

It takes me a second to start freaking out about this sudden, new memory of my fear of needles. I yank the IV out of my arm, panic rising in my throat and chest, the pulse on the screen quickening. I leave the pulse monitor on my wrist for now in case a someone will see the beat stop.

My eyes widen, my brain remembering my plan about The Girl. I swiftly put my legs on the ground and move as far as I can towards the wall, my hand searching. Aha! Doorknob. I crack it open ever so slowly.  A hallway with a door at the end beacons to me, bright, luminous light through the window slits of the door shining. Is that...daylight?

Without a plan, a sudden impulse pounding in my head, my feet push me off the cold tile and I launch forward, charging towards the doors. The pulse monitor flies off my finger and snaps to the ground.  Each step I take brings me closer and closer to freedom at the end of this long hallway...closer...almost there. 

SMACK! I fall backwards on to the ground, smashing my head and shoulders first. 

The door is locked.

What a fool! Did I really think I could get out that easy? The Torturers have probably already noticed that my heart rate has gone up like crazy then completely off and are on their way to sedate me for good. 

A burst of anxiety and pure trepidation explodes in my chest, and like ivy, entwines through my ribs and winds itself down my limbs. My legs feel like lead, but my brain is alive. I have to go. Now. 

"RUN ", my mind screams.

I make my way to a sitting position, my head pounding, and stand up as fast as I can for being a temporarily disabled, and look for a dark corner, anywhere.

I power-walk to the nearest adjacent hallway, and seeing a door this time actually with handles, I move towards it. There is one of those scanners that requires a security card to enter. I look through the even smaller window slits once I reach it, peeking barely through. A main entry hallway awaits, with doors that people enter and exit through frequently. Unlocked.

I look around and hear footsteps nearing, and shouts of agony coming from a nearby room. I devise a plan in my head, fast on my feet and under pressure, and make my way to the room. A 'patient' with a twisted face, bruised beyond recognition, lays on a hard metal table, groaning in torment and desolation. 

He doesn't notice me, and I slip behind a dividing curtain in the nick of time as a female Torturer walks in wheeling a tray with various shots and what I assume are similar torture tools used in my previous examinations. She wheels her cart directly in front of the end of the curtain where I am, and my breath catches in my throat. The agonized 'patient' stares straight ahead, with what I can now peek and see are milky white, blind eyes. Woah. He can't be much older than I am, whatever age I am.

"Alright, You. Time for a little... test." the Whitecoat hesitates. It is now or never.