Chapter 3: I'm broken and lame
Something shifted.
Vlad had been awake – conscious – aware for hours already – days, maybe? – but something changed.
A few seconds, a change in consciousness, something more – and his corpse body gasped quietly, his hands trembled, his eyes shot open.
He had control not only a passenger in his own dead skin.
Not that he could move much, not that his body felt anything like normal – the dull and constant pain he'd felt during his time of awareness was growing, spiking, spanning across his body in various states of discomfort. His head was pounding, his throat was dry, his fingers only spasmed when he tried to move his arms.
But, at least he wasn't dead Vlad could truly feel his body, could do something with it.
If it hurt to move, at least he could move.
He was alive, and live people could heal, right? He could get better, he could still be alive someone, do something!
...Vlad was also nauseous and hurting and possibly having a very high fever, everything hurt, including being aware conscious. His skin felt clammy and hot hot and cold both cold like the dead he shouldn't be alive he knew it even if he didn't want the bed sheets were damp with sweat.
He could turn his head, just a little – he wanted to gag, but – and there was a call button not far. He should call for a nurse, he should show them that he was awake, that he could respond this time, he should...
He couldn't raise his arm far enough to get the call button.
Not this time, then.
At least... At least things had changed.
His head fell back on the pillow, and a sharp flash of green sting reverberated across his face, as if he'd pushed on a handful of acne spots – but acidic burns so much worse. Vlad remembered the rashes the dermatologist had mentioned hours – days? – ago.
There was nothing he could do powerless still even if alive dead and suffering for now: he was too weak, it hurt too much, the fever kept him from thinking clearly death did that too and he couldn't actually move.
But maybe...
Maybe Vlad could sleep, now – maybe he could close his eyes on purpose not because they wouldn't open no matter how hard he wished for it and escape from the pain, from awareness itself isn't that what death does? just for a moment. He'd wake up later, and maybe he'd be a bit more rested, if not entirely better.
He'd spent so long – how long, truly? He had no idea, time stretches and twists when you have nothing to quantify it, only an ever-continuing flow of now – aware, he needed unconsciousness, he needed to stop thinking.
Vlad closed his eyes and tried to regulate his breathing, to let it all ease out of his consciousness.
A voice he could almost hear – outside his room, not far, the door hadn't been closed properly if he remembered right – spoke up, and Vlad had nothing else to do apart from hurting than listening.
It was a nurse, he recognized his voice.
"...shouldn't be here at all! The investigation isn't finished and they haven't decided yet if they are going to press charges! You cannot visit, and you need to lea..."
Vlad's heart lurched in his chest literally perhaps and the heart monitor he could hear beeping somewhere picked up the pace.
There were people outside who weren't doctors and nurse, people who were alive who visited other patients, who had a life and could come and go could move could breathe could and weren't stuck in their own skin.
The world still spun, outside – outside of him, stuck in a hospital bed, aware and conscious but powerless and suffering. Vlad just wasn't spinning with it maybe he never would again anymore.
Even the nurses and doctors, they had lives outside of the hospital – families, maybe, hobbies.
And here he was, him: alone, unable to even think properly dead and unable to at least breathe correctl...
His hands started shaking, his lungs felt on fire.
He still couldn't reach the call button.
Outside, the visitor said something to the nurse – but Vlad wasn't listening anymore, he could barely distinguish the voice at all, loud but far, all the way across the nearly-closed door and covered by the sound of the heart monitor going faster and faster.
"banzai!" a flash of green hurts can't breathe pain something burns please what is please help
The door opened suddenly, and someone was hurrying towards him but he couldn't look, couldn't focus green, didn't care.
please help
hurts
The heart monitor stopped beeping, letting out a long, shrill note instead.