When Rachel opened her eyes, it was to an awful, familiar white. She stared at it, blinking dazedly as a monotone beeping served as background noise. She then turned her head to the left and found an IV drip with a needle attached to her veins. Further away was a plant, green leaves perked up and waxed. It looks too perfect, Rachel thought. Probably fake.
She shifted around so that her gaze was once again fixated on the ceiling. Everything felt out of place. And this time, she didn't have anything as an anchor. Only her and the silence of the room.
Rachel's body was numb and weightless. All she wanted to do was sink back into the blankets, never to emerge again. Even so, there was a deep aching within her, a feeling she couldn't identify, the nagging itch that she was forgetting something important.
Her head hurt. She went back to sleep.
"Isaac Foster, that's your name, yes?"
Zack scowled fiercely, crossing his arms. A sharp-eyed woman was sitting poised in front of him, and to his left was a man, flipping through notes on a pad. Behind him was a one-way mirror. The room was bare, except for chairs and a table. The gray paint on the walls and ceiling, he saw, were flaking off.
The woman noticed his wandering eyes. "Isaac Foster, is there something interesting you'd like to share? Or perhaps you prefer Zack?"
"Don't use my first name like we're friends," Zack sneered, kicking his legs up on the table. The woman said nothing but looked faintly disapproving. "If you really want my opinion, I'd "prefer" it if I could get the hell away from you fucks."
"Now, Isaac-"
"What part of "don't use my first name" didn't you get?" Zack demanded, leaning forward. His disgruntlement at the lack of fear from the bitch vanished when the man flinched and dropped his pen. It made a loud, clattering sound once it hit the floor. Still got it, he thought with satisfaction.
"Foster, then," the bitch (not the Bitch, no, that special title was reserved for someone who was well below six feet under) said, unruffled. "My name is Eliza. The man over there is Detective David."
"Hooray, you know your own goddamn names. You want a star or something? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm fresh out."
The bitch just pasted on another obviously fake smile and continued her spiel. "So, Foster, tell me about yourself. Where were you before you ended up here?"
"Do you police people have literal shit for eyes?" Zack said incredulously. "The building that burned down, dumbass. You know, the one you found me in front of? Ringing any bells in that empty head of yours?"
"Could you provide us with more details about the fire?" the man (detective?) said, retrieved pen poised above the notepad. To Zack's annoyance, the fear from earlier seemed to have already faded.
"First of all, it was hot," Zack said.
The detective looked annoyed. "And? Anything else?"
"Hmm...nope, I think that's all you need to hear, so can you maybe fuck off? Thanks."
"You-"
"Detective, please let me handle the interrogation," the bitch said frostily.
"O-oh, yes, of course." The spineless bastard backed off immediately, physically scooting himself backwards in his chair. Zack snorted in amusement.
"Alright, Foster, let's try to take another approach to this." She folded her hands neatly in her lap. "You're accused of being the serial killer behind the random murders in the alleyways. You are also accused of kidnapping one Rachel Gardner and murdering her parents. Do you accept this verdict?"
When the fuck can I murder this bitch again? Literally the only thing she knows how to do is spewing shit. Is that what she put on her resume? How the hell did she get this job then? Oh wait, I forgot that the police have no standards, natural when they live up in their own assholes - ah, shit, I've been quiet for too long - hurry up and say something, fuck-
"You police are so uptight. Who the fuck cares if a few nobodies get offed? Some people would even thank me." Zack leaned back on his chair, balancing on only two legs. "Although since I don't like taking credit away from other people, I'll say this: I didn't do jack shit to any Gardner."
There. That should keep them satisfied. Zack looked at the two people from underneath his eyelashes. The detective looked obviously agitated (did they seriously send some rookie to deal with him? Zack almost felt offended) and the bitch was finally showing some other emotion than false friendliness, which in Zack's opinion, was at least ten points to him
"I'm afraid to say that your word isn't enough to save you from your crimes," the bitch said with forced composure.
Zack groaned and threw his hands up in the air. "Then what's the fucking point of having this interrogation at all?!"
"Look, you better up just 'fess up now. We all know you did it, you filthy liar of a crimi-"
"Detective David! Your only job is to provide the facts and nothing else, so remain silent!" the bitch said sharply. She exhaled loudly. She then looked up at the sky as if she hoped that some god would save her at any moment, something Zack knew secondhand wouldn't happen.
"We'll continue this later." She sighed. "This would go so much faster if you just cooperated."
"Shit, man, I told you the truth, what more d'ya want to know?"
"The truth? Is that really what you call it?" the bitch asked. She shook her head before rising from her seat. "You'll be escorted back to the hospital to recuperate. You'll be sedated to make sure you do not aggravate your injuries-"
"Or decide to kill you, right?" Zack gave a nasty grin.
She didn't respond and exited by slamming the door open with a resounding bang.
Zack counted that as ten more points to his side.
Rachel woke up to the same sight of the white ceiling. It seemed like she was still in the same place as last time. She sighed a little and brought her knees to her chest. There was a muffled tang of pain, but it wasn't anything Rachel couldn't ignore. I still feel like I'm forgetting something, she thought, folding her arms on top of her knees. She caught a glimpse outside from a sliver between drawn curtains. A bright, bright blue bled through them; Rachel could also hear the distant sounds of birds chirping. It's daytime, then.
She didn't know how long she remained like that, but an unexpected knock broke the peaceful silence in the room. Rachel watched as the door creaked open. A woman in a pastel blue uniform walked through, holding a clipboard in her hand. She could see the nurse's eyes widen as she took in the sight of Rachel sitting upright in the bed.
"You're awake! I'm glad, we were starting to wonder when you would wake up," the nurse said.
"Why am I here?" Rachel asked, cutting straight to the point.
The nurse blinked before shaking her head. "Yes...yes, of course you wouldn't remember, that's expected after what you've just been through. You've been involved in an accident, honey. We found you next to a burning building, along with- oh, I don't know if I should be telling you this. It might be better to let the memories come back on their own."
"Please," Rachel said softly. "Why am I here?"
"Why don't you rest for a while? The previous events were very traumatizing, especially for a young girl like you, Rachel. You really should take it easy for a while." The nurse flipped through some papers. She worried her lip, wearing an expression of someone caving in. She shuffled through the papers again as a delay tactic before saying, "You've been shot by a gun and you're also suffering from a few burns. The building you were in caught on fire, do you remember? The police think there was an explosion that a group of people started. A cult, maybe. It was all very terrifying, and I wasn't even there at the time!"
The pounding in Rachel's heart grew louder, so did her head. She rubbed her temples in efforts to drive it away. The nurse looked on with concern. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine. Tell me more, please," Rachel said.
"...You were found with a suspected serial killer, Isaac Foster. He hasn't admitted to all he has done, but don't worry, that man won't be able to get to you, our hospital prides itself in security- Are you sure you're alright? You're starting to get very pale."
"I-" Rachel began, her heart feeling like it was being grasped by a cold hand. She tried to get out another word, only for a quiet wail to come out.
"Rachel?" The nurse reached out just as Rachel's world down spiraled.
Colors flashed in her head, followed by images flickering by with dizzying speed. None of it made sense, it was all going by too fast, she was going to crash. Rachel clutched at her hair and put her head down between her knees, the nurse's frightened voice not registering at all. She dimly heard someone screaming, thin and reedy, hiccups interrupting every so often.
Oh, she thought absentmindedly. That's me.
And then all form of coherent thought were snatched away.
She felt like she was being jerked up and down by a malfunctioning elevator. Actors and actresses rewound and replayed; crumbled stages changed to become new, only to break down again; garbled lines came out in various frequencies.
One through six, how many left alive? A deranged face with too many eyes and yet not enough to spare, graves for those who rested in eternal agony and a green stare, rooms upon rooms with hundreds of functions that made heads spin before falling dead, stained glass shattered as organ keys wept pink smoke of dread, the red thread wrapped around the moon once, twice, thrice - who else, who else was left in this mad game, who else, who else? The damned souls cried as they knelt before their god, their god, a promise broken and yet repaired, it was all too much, I can't do this, please, kill me!
…"Kill me"?
Who...who did I say that to again?
...
Oh, that's right. It was-
"Rachel? Rachel, are you okay? I already called the doctor, he should be here any moment now. Everything's going to be alright, I swear-"
Slowly, Rachel opened her eyes, teardrops clinging onto her lashes. The world grew brighter as the illusions faded away into the shadows. Her face felt flushed and her nose was running, but despite how many times her mother's voice screamed about the importance of appearances, she couldn't care less.
There was only one thing that mattered now.
"...Zack!"