The Other Side of Sanity

5. Rude Awakening

"You administered the tonic like I asked?"

"Yes, Warden. It takes a while to go into effect. She should be awake at any moment now."

Two voices floated around me. My head throbbed painfully and I moved my hand to touch it. Nothing happened. I pulled again, but it was stuck at my side.

"Call me back in when she's awake," the first, gruff voice spoke from somewhere a bit further away. "I need to go take a piss."

I recognized that voice, somehow. Its rough growl sent an icy jolt of fear down my spine.

"I'll let you know," the second voice responded, smooth and soothing. This one, too, sounded familiar. The sound relaxed me, though I couldn't remember who it belonged to.

Silence fell around me and I turned my head with a groan. The tiny movement intensified the throbbing in my temples.

"Miss Walton?"

That soothing voice was so close now, just to my right.

"Miss Walton, can you hear me?"

I forced my eyes open and they were flooded with harsh light. Once again, I tried to lift my hands to shield my eyes, but I found them trapped at my sides. Blinking away the bleariness, my vision cleared enough to see a face hovering to my right. Dark brows. Soft, smooth lips. Blue eyes like polished crystal... I knew this face.

I gasped, jerking away, as the memory of the lake came flooding back over me.

"Miss Walton, please try to remain calm..." The strange man with bright eyes reached his hands towards me, moving slowly. "You've been through quite a shock."

I thrashed uselessly, looking down to find my ankles, wrists, waist, and chest strapped down to some kind of metal-framed hospital bed. I was outfitted in a fresh, clean white dress, exactly like the one I'd been wearing while trying to run for help through the forest. The forest—I'd tried to run away through the trees but I'd been too cold and too weak. Then the blue-eyed man had found me. But I'd thought—

"I'm here to help you, Miss Walton, remember?" He smiled down at me encouragingly.

"Help me?" I grunted, incredulous. "How is tying me down like an animal helping me?" I yanked one more time at my restraints with no success before letting my head fall back on the pillow with a frustrated huff. "And who the hell is 'Miss Walton?' That's not my name!"

He frowned at me, a look of pity on his face, and shook his head. With a sigh, he walked to the end of the bed, picking up a wooden clipboard and flipping through some papers. I took the moment as an opportunity to scan the room—one large window opposite the foot of the bed, enclosed by bars on the outside; two chairs and to the right, wooden with green velvet seats, along with an open doorway; a metal rolling table to the left, lined with shining medical tools and bottles of mysterious liquid; and a large, unsettling painting on the left wall, showcasing a young woman, kneeling before a stone alter, encapsulated by a ring of light. In her outstretched hands, she held her own, bleeding heart, seemingly ripped from a bloody, gaping hole in her chest. Tears of joy stained her cheeks.

I felt ill. My stomach was empty and gnawing with hunger, but I was seriously in danger of retching. A clammy sweat broke out across my body. Why was I brought here and what did they want with me? And, more importantly, how the hell was I going to escape?

"Please," I said quietly, and the man looked up at me, surprise in his crystal blue eyes. "Please, can you just untie me? I don't know why I'm here. Me and my friend, we were in trouble and—"