Mindless

Awake

"You idiot," a voice hisses above, "I told you not to add the MRD to the mix. You've almost killed her. Our most successful patient too."

I force my breathing to remain steady, even as I am poked and prodded.

"Well don't yell at me. My job is to check the vitals. Go yell at the pharmies about the almost overdose. I can only suggest changes to the drug mixes. They give it the yay or neigh." This sounds like a very indignant Dr. Jacob von Wen. My mind forms the image of him standing there, nose in the air, indignant look on his face, arms folded across his chest.

"That's not my problem," the other voice snaps. "Giving them a suggestion," the voice mutters. "Pah! You give them orders. Don't give them the option of saying no."

Well that's rather rude. Giving a person a job, then blaming them when someone else falls through.

People like him should be killed a voice whispers in my mind.

My muscles involuntarily stiffen. Where had that come from?

"Ahhh," the voice croons, "You're awake. You had me thinking we'd lost you for a second there."

Knowing the charade is over, I open my eyes. Sitting on my left is an older man in a lab coat. His military buzz cut is frosted over with white. His green eyes are gentle and so is his smile.

I almost smile back. Almost. "Where am I?" I demand of the new doctor.

His smile momentarily falters. "Isn't there something else you'd rather know?" He inquires.

I say nothing, refusing to let him know just how much I don't know. The seconds tick by and we just look at each other. Him with a pained smile at my obstinateness, gazing down at me. Me, looking up at him, mouth shut.

His smile slowly becomes a glower. Dr. Von Wen emits a faint laugh. "A bit more obstinate than you imagined. Eh, Doctor?"

The doctor turns his glower on Dr. Von Wen. Turning his attention back to me he reaches under the table I'm on. "Well, I've things to do, and you're clearly fine so," the cuffs holding my wrists and ankles to the table open, "I'll let you up. I don't need you going crazy after all the work we've done on you."

With that he stands up and exits the room, Dr. Von Wen on his heels.

Sitting up I rub my wrists and look around. Other than the metal table I'm on and the machines at its head, the room is completely empty.

Standing up and walking to one of the walls, I begin to circumnavigate the room. As I walk, my right-hand glides along the wall.

Having done this, I take a seat in the corner furthest from the door.

I don't know the time. I don't even know if its day or night. And there is no way to know. There's no clocks or windows in the room.

I sit in the corner in a ball, chin on my knees for a while. There was nothing to do, and no way to tell time.

To make matters worse the only things I could think about were things I didn't know. What was my name? How old was I? Are my parents alive? Do I even have parents? Do I have any siblings? Friends?

The questions continuously swirl around my mind. Followed by even worse questions. Did I even have any of that stuff? Did everyone I know think I was dead? Do I even exist in the real world? Is there anything outside this place?

Soon a steady throb started in my head. I could barely hear the questions over it, which in a way was a blessing. At the same time, it was more irritating than the questions.

I couldn't stand it. It kept going on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and refused to stop. Now it was loud enough to drive the calmest person insane.

The smell of iron wakes me up. That and the smell of something burnt.

Opening my eyes, the first thing registered was the fact that I was no longer in my corner. I was lying in front of the wall of machines. Next was that broken glass, wires, and other things lying about the floor, and the fact that the wall of machines looked like someone had taken a baseball bat to it

Third was the blood. The blood was smeared across the broken screens, and still intact pieces. It was smeared on the floor as well.

That was when the pain registered. Hot and raw, it bombards my mind. It filled every nook cranny and available space. I screamed at the pain, and it swelled when I moved.

I had to get out of the blood mess. I forced my arms to move, to push me up. Doing so, I find the source of the blood.

Angry gashes run the length of my arms. There's so much blood almost no skin is visible, and some blood still oozes from the closing lacerations.

The shock and pain cause me to collapse once more on the ground.

I force myself to flip so I'm on my back and look at the wall of broken machines. Had I done that? Had I gone mad? Lost it? If I had, why hadn't they stopped me?