I just realized I totally forgot to put a disclaimer on this!...oops
Well here it is: I – don't – own –it. Oh yeah, and thanks for reviewing this – I honestly wasn't sure if people would read it so thanks!
On with it then….
The first thing she noticed was she was warm.
She was lying in a bed with unfamiliar crisp, white sheets that were softer and seemed to be of a greater quality than what she was used to. It was dark although she was aware of a light by the side of her face that shone artificial, neon blue and irritated her eyes. She turned to face the light. It was coming from a small, glowing piece of machinery with lines moving like spiky waves that chirped a strange, even, mechanic chirp whenever the waves reached it's peaked.
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
This peculiar device was attached to another machine that took up most of the space between the bed and the wall. It was blocky like cardboard boxes set on top of one another and had wires sticking up sloppily of all over the place, some leading into the bed sheets.
Yes, she was definitely warm – hot even, feeling more inflamed by the second…or perhaps it was only her increasing conscious allowing her to become more and more aware of her state. Did she even want to know? She could have lost a limb, she could be paralyzed and would have to live in a wheelchair like her sister, Nessarose –
The past events came rushing back to her like a physiological tidal wave, crashing down on her. Nessa's death by a…a house was it? Yes it was a house and there was a girl. An ignorant, reckless Halfling, who shot at me, then stole my shoes. A child assassin – who would ever suspect that? It was a set up – a perfect set up. She kills the Eminence, allowing Munchkinland to be reunited with the rest of Oz and at the same time delivers the shoes to that great tyrant of a Wizard…Glinda sent her to the Wizard – she must be in on it too!
The sheets were trapping the heat radiating off her, creating a tent of humid, damp warmth.
She noticed there was something like a mask over her nose and mouth that seemed to push air into her lungs. It felt cool against her flushed body and smelled like clouds. She could almost hear herself breathing, sounding like a wind whistling through a crack.
Beep…
Beep…
Beep…
That sound was getting annoying.
She wanted to sit up and turn the thing off but she was numb, her senses fuzzy like there had been a surplus of inhibitory receptors in her brain, holding it back from functioning …as if she were very, very, very drunk. But she had to be able to move, to sit up and look around and to escape if necessary. She couldn't be paralyzed could she?
She was sore. She could especially feel it around her lower ribcage, around the hips and her right ankle. There was also a faint, prickling sensation all over her stomach and legs as if ants were crawling around her, chewing off bits of skin as they went. It was uncomfortable.
She tried to sit up and had to concentrate on the specific steps in the usually automatic process.
Start bending at the hips, use arms to support yourself…
She found one arm to be stiff and surrounded by something hard. Using her other arm, she pushed herself up, the mask now pressing against her face uncomfortably. She lifted it off her face and immediately the air went thick and dry – not suitable or breathing. She was forced to suck air in through her mouth and exhale slowly as if her windpipe had somehow been reduced to the diameter of a straw. After a while she managed to control her breathing to a slow, laborious rhythm, each inhale stinging the back of her throat. She looked around the room but it was too dark to see anything…except the glowing monitor.
Beep…
Beep…
Bee –
The Witch grumbled and reached to turn it off when she noticed there was a tube imbedded in her hand, wrapped with gauze. Her gaze followed the tube up toward a stand with a transparent bag hanging from it. She could see faintly through the bluish glow that it was labelled 'dopamine' in capital, red letters. She peered at the bag for a moment. She had always known IV drips to be clear but this one had an orange tinge to it.
She suddenly became aware of muffled activity outside her room. She looked and saw a glowing line of whitish light under the door. She could hear urgent voices, see shadows of people walking by, and the rattling of trolleys. But that light seemed too bright to be candlelight or from a torch. It was too…too white and evenly distributed.
This must one of those modern buildings with electric lighting or was electricity more common nowadays? She didn't know; she had been out of touch for so long. The she coughed. Just one cough or was there another? Perhaps she just swallowed wrong but her throat felt itchy. She swallowed and felt a slight lump on one side of her throat near the trachea as if the area had become inflamed. It stung when she swallowed.
There were suddenly footsteps approaching the door. The person opened the door, artificial, white light flooding the room then closed the door behind him. He flicked a switch and the room lit up, flares of white light burning her eye. She blinked for a moment, her eye stinging and squinted at the figure, realizing at that moment her other eye was covered.
She saw through a film of blaring whiteness a man dressed in a long, white lab coat, carrying a file under his arm and had what looked to be a stethoscope around his neck. He wasn't all that old really – around her own age, maybe a year or two her senior.
She blinked again and saw his green, brooding eyes staring at her, trying to conceal his shock. He ran a hand through his black, spiky hair and tried to smile friendlily at her but failed. He just looked even more nervous than he already appeared to be.
The Witch tried to compose herself, sucking air in through her nose. It didn't work. She grabbed the mask and held it up to her face.
"Err…hello" said the man finally. "I am Dr Fitz Morrible."
She gasped, sucking in a mouthful of air, causing her to choke, sending some of it up her nose. She dropped the mask started a coughing fit into her sleeve, her ribs protesting loudly. She hunched over, clutching her side, her face turning an impressive shade of forest green. Dr. Fitz Morrible calmly walked toward her, set his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her torso back so she was sitting upright. But she continued to cough into her sleeve, the hot, thick air choking her. He brought the mask to her face and she continued to cough for a moment but then settled, breathing raggedly. Then she suddenly jerked away from him.
She looked up at him and decided she couldn't see much resemblance but then again, Madame Morrible looked like a fish - a fish! But they had similar green, almond shaped eyes although his didn't bulge out like a carp and they had the same sharp brow but on him, it looked far better and gave him a sort of intense look.
You're in relation to Madame Morrible! You're working with the Wizard aren't you – you must be the other adept! Nessarose, Glinda, then you! Or did they send you here to kill me?
"You…"Her tongue had become a useless slab of meat stuck in her mouth. "You're…you're Morrible!" was all she managed to her mortification.
The man suddenly looked tired "I believe you're referring to Madame Morrible. I am merely a doctor"