The room was still, the silence broken by the dull whine of a ceiling fan, motor longing for maintenance, the rhythmic noise stirred Jastilus from his daze, head throbbing at the sudden influx of senses. A halogen light strip buzzed overhead, barely audible yet grating in its presence. A low groan escaped his lungs, as life began to course back through his body, limbs twitching with fresh movement. It took several attempts for Jastilus to open his eyes, and even then it took him great effort to keep them open, the harsh light blinding him for several seconds. His eyes drifted skyward towards the fan, cursing its incessant noise that prevented his return to sleep, the rotary motion furthering what felt like the hangover from hell. It took a few minutes before Jastilus's thoughts drifted to attempting to remember where he was, memory failing to provide answers, nothing concrete appeared.
He surveyed his surroundings, wondering whether some familiar feature might jar his memory, this was not the case however. The room was alien to the young man, left of him sat an unusual machine, cables flowed from a series of nodes, snaking over his chest where they embedded themselves within his flesh. A dull green glow flickered from its screen, giving his skin an unhealthy pallor in its light, a s series of pulses flashed on-screen, one seemingly matching his heartbeat, the others however remained a mystery. A dull pain turned his attention to his wrist, the needle of an IV had rooted itself in place, liquid slowly flowing through the clear tubes into his veins. The fabric of the covers felt rough and irritated him, causing him to fidget underneath. From the utilitarian grey Jastilus realised it was likely he was in a public facility, accustomed to the finer aspects of life the cheap fabric was an unusual experience to him. He wondered why he had not been taken to one of his families personal medical facilities if there was a problem, though he decided to ask questions later.
Requiring concentration on his part, but Jastilus managed to align himself upright, though his arms ached at the exertion. From this position he could take a full view of the room, a cold metallic floor was the foundation for a variety of intimidating looking devices, needles sprouted like tiny fangs from the machines. Many other beds similar to his own filled the room, uniform in their utilitarian design, though his was the only occupied bunk. Walls of clean white rose towards a dull grey ceiling, the perfect blank slate Jastilus mused. Everything in the room was clean, exceptionally clean in fact, the lingering sent of disinfectant the only sign that anyone else had been in the room at all.
Exhaling as he ran his hand through his hair, which felt soft to his touch, indicating it had been recently washed, though by who he was unsure. His momentary relief however was short-lived as his fingers stumbled across fresh stitching upon the side of his head, the surface war newly healed, still sore to contact. Probing with an index finger he traced the line of an uncomfortably large and jagged cut. The discovery did nothing to reassure him, but it did offer explanation at his lack of recent memory.
Gently moving the cover aside he inspected the rest of his body, under the sheet he was wearing a surgical gown, but aside from some superficial scratches and nasty bruises on his arms he could see that he was intact. Moving on he began to remove the cables from his chest, wincing as they slowly slid out, as he removed the cables one by one the pulsing images on the video screen became motionless. His wrist would not cease itching after removing the IV, adding to the general discomfort he was feeling. Free of his bonds, he pushed the covers aside as he lowered himself from the bed, careful to support himself on the cold steel frame, slowly easing the weight on to his legs, cautious of potential damage. The unheated floor caused Jastilus to shiver involuntarily, bare feet protesting the sudden inhospitable environment. Undeterred he padded across to a nearby mirror to check his face, cringing when he saw the damaged inflicted on his usually handsome face, his fractured nose sat slightly askew, a large bruise circled his left eye which was bloodshot and swollen, the usual blue surrounded by sickly pink gave an unsettling appearance. The mirror providing little in the way of positives, he decided to find out who was in charge here, and more importantly where exactly here was.
Shuffling towards the door which slid open with a hydraulic hiss Jastilus looked out into a barren corridor, similar in design to the medical center sharing its bland colours and lack of distinguishing marks. In spite of the uninviting atmosphere he pressed forwards, unsure what he hoped to find ahead. Apprehension slowly filling him as he approached the next door, a cold knot forming in the pit of his stomach he stepped forward. As he did so he felt uneasy, the air seemed thick, resisting him as he walked forward, even moving felt difficult, his limbs unresponsive to his commands, much like the feeling of being within a dream. Bright light flowed from the room ahead instinctively he raised a hand to shield his eyes, still unaccustomed to strong light he was blind in its presence. His hearing suffered too, everything sounding muffled, it reminded him of being underwater.
As he continued onwards his balance faltered, right leg buckling he toppled forwards, arms stretching outwards he prayed they would break his fall. His plunge however would quickly end when a pair of hands grabbed his arms, stabilising his balance and keeping him standing.
Jastilus realised, he was no longer alone.