The Uprisen

Chapter 1

Didn't I die?

Dazed and sore, he opens his eyes and practically chokes on the overwhelming stench of a hospital. He feels like he's woken up for the first time in centuries, as if he should be a rotting corpse in a coffin, but he doesn't know why or how he's in a hospital. In fact, he's not even sure why he's alive.

Carefully, he tries sitting up or even lifting his head, but the pain is too much for his body to take. If a person could survive getting run over by a semi-truck five times over, then the pain they'd feel would be identical to the pain he's feeling now.

For a hospital, it's eerily still. The only movement in the room is the muted television and the leaves shining through the large open windows. Traffic talks like morning pedestrians on sidewalks, and crisp air brushes past his rough skin. He tries to remember a reason to explain being in a hospital, but trying to remember anything was like trying to find a lightswitch in the dark; he found nothing.

"Doctor..." a woman says from the doorway as she walks toward the man on the bed.

A man wearing white and blue follows her to the bed with a look of amazement. "Sir, can you talk?"

The man on the bed nods slightly, wincing as invisible knives pierce his skull.

"My name is Dr. Kane. You're in the Boston Memorial Hospital. This is nurse Mary," he waits for the man to say something, like an introduction or his name, but he says nothing. "Sir, do you know why you're here?"

"No," the man says. "I...I don't really remember anything."

The man who looks like he came straight out of General Hospital tilts his head with concern. "Do you know you're name?"

"Maybe, Carl?" the man thinks, then a single name comes to mind: "Alexa. Is Alexa here?"

The nurse and doctor look at each other in confusion. "Who is Alexa?" Nurse Mary asks in a sweet voice. She resembles the magazine stay-at-home wife baking a pie, except in scrubs and circles under her eyes.

"She's...um," the man tries to think, but he can't remember anything else other than the name.

"Do you remember why you're here? Your birthday?" Dr. Kane asks softly.

Tears burn the man's eyes, blurring his vision. "No, nothing. What happened to me?"

Dr. Kane walks to the edge of the bed. He looks at the man pitifully, having dealt with patients with amnesia, though it never gets easier to handle. "Well, we don't quite know. You were found about a week ago near a jogging path by a park, badly injured. You're recovering miraculously, however. Your injuries resembled the remnants of a man who survived an explosion. You're very lucky to be alive."

The man tries to recall the last time he was conscious. Brief flashes of people, friends or family he assumes, smiling and laughing come to mind. The faces aren't clear, and none of the memories seem to make reason out of his injuries. He isn't even sure of his own name, let alone the name of the person who would hurt him.

"So...what do I do?" the man asks.

Dr. Kane considers the question thoughtfully, then says, "We believe you're suffering from a severe case of amnesia, though the cause is unclear... Perhaps after a few more days of rest in the hospital, we could find you a shelter to stay at until you start to remember?"

The man doesn't say anything. He knows he's forgetting something important. He doesn't know why, but he feels like he's in danger...something or someone has tried to kill him, most likely the same thing or person that hurt him this badly.