Chapter 1 – The Concrete Walls
I wake up in a dimly lit room made of concrete with a throbbing headache that feels like it's about to split my skull open.
My body screams in pain, muffled only by the bandages covering it, firm and snug.
I attempt to sit up but my body fights back and then I collapse onto a pillow.
Then the sharp stinging sensation from my failed attempt made its way to my brain, forcing a long hiss through my clenched teeth.
"Tsssss! What the?!"
That's when I finally started asking questions.
What the hell happened to me?
Where am I?
Very slowly, I try to sit up and stand. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and slide off carefully, being careful as to not put too much weight on my legs yet.
Since I don't know what shape my legs are in, I move carefully.
Are they in the same shape as the rest of my body… or worse?
They do feel slightly numb.
So, I slowly stand with my body weight.
The more I added, the more my legs began to shake.
"Damn–!"
Before I could finish my thought I quickly grabbed the nearest thing I could to help me from collapsing.
The nearest thing was a wooden drawer next to the bed I had just woken up from.
"Why do I feel crippled and battered! Did a truck run me over?"
Frustration begins to manifest and I can't seem to figure out what pisses me off more?
Was it waking up in a place other than my own home and in my own bed?
Am I disappointed in my body's inability to do simple tasks like just standing and walking? Maybe a combination of both amongst other things.
I prop myself up again and I look around the room.
There's not much.
A bed.
A wooden drawer.
And a lamp mounted above it to
illuminate the room.
"This lamp…
I give a little squint as my eyes still feel hazy and blurry.
"…is it lit by fire?"
It's not a usual sight to see a lamp lit by fire, at least not that I know of.
Maybe it's just been kept for decades for emergency use.
I don't dawdle much about the assumptions and rather I look for a way out.
Surely enough I see a metal door across the small room I'm in.
I drag my own body weight, shuffling my feet and making the best of efforts to not add too much weight on either leg.
With each step posing a great risk of collapsing.
It's not long till I made it…
"Finally…"
I wanted to shout my excitement, but was quickly shut down by my body's injuries when breathing in.
I guess my body didn't agree with my excitement.
I regained clear focus on my current objective, struggling to push the pain aside realizing that this door isn't the normal knob-like door.
"What? Do I turn this wheel? Is this a joke?"
I realized that this could tear my wounds open again.
I tried turning the wheel slightly. Each bit of force sends multiple sharp stabs that turn into a growing burning sting.
But I cared more about finding the answers I'm looking for.
Where am I?
What happened to me?
So, I braced myself.
Both my hands on the wheel.
I begin to turn.
"Ngh—! Come on—!"
I was weak and already feeling tired.
I could feel the stitches stretch and tug on my skin beneath the bandages.
I had a thought.
Couldn't I just wait for someone to come in and check on me?
I mean, someone patched me up, I suppose.
So, they'd probably return…
Right?
"—No, come on! I can't wait."
I added more power to my turns, but in doing so, I felt the ends of the stitches tear my skin.
"Tssssskh—!"
The wheel moved and slowly I heard the gears of the door scratch against each other.
I felt an agonizing burning sensation from the stitches.
Like skin that had just begun to heal…
only to be torn open again.
My white shirt stains in red, and the bandages become soaked.
And with that…
My painful torture amounts to an unlocked airlock-like door.
I slump over the wheel, breathing hard.
"That… was such a pain in the ass."
I let out a sigh of relief and slowly pull the door open.
Then I hear a familiar sound coming from a rectangular box with an antenna.
A faint crackle.
"Is that… a radio?"