I was falling through dreams, slipping through flashes of smoke and distorted faces. I jolted up in bed, heart racing, struggling to recall anything. Failing, I fumbled to untangle myself from the single starchy white sheet. I stumbled off of the small bed and staggered across the room, the cold cracked tiled floor sending shivers up my spine. I glanced around the room, at the dirty brick walls, the smudged rusted iron door.
And then there was a noise breaking through the deafening pulse of my blood. A siren, haunting and ethereal, beautiful and yet somehow terrorizing.
I frowned in confusion and carefully scanned the area, my eyes falling upon a clock high on the wall, barely visible. I glared at it, struggled to see the hands through the foggy glass. Giving up, I carefully approached the iron door, peering out of the mesh wire box window cut into it. The halls were nearly pitch dark, and seemingly empty.
A pain shot through my head, forcing my eyes shut. Opening them slowly, I took a steady breath and tried to calm myself.
And then the pain was racing through my body, through my sides and stomach, my head and legs. I doubled over, letting out a yelp. The pain sent spasms through my muscles, dropping me to the floor in helpless agony. I screamed, clawing at the floor in desperation.
A burning red light spilled into the room, and silhouettes moved in, blurred through the tears in my eyes. Something pierced my arm and I lashed out, a faceless nurse pinning me to the floor. The pain began to subside, my screams turned into whimpers, and my contorting body lay still.
Someone in the distance mumbled something about upping the doses and I smiled, the sound of the siren echoing through the room.
