I... I don't... don't know where I am. There's so much light...
Am I dead?
My whole body is hurting... I guess that means I'm not dead yet. At least not entirely.
Everything is becoming clearer now. But that damned light is getting to me.
I think I'm in a hospital. I'm getting up, or rather trying to. My neck aches no matter how slowly I move it.
"Please stay on your back. You've been through a lot recently," a nurse says to me.
I look down to my arms and legs. They're covered in bruises, scars and cuts. Necrosis (gangrene) is even on my toes. But how did this happen?!
"What is your name?" She asks me. I tell her my name, wondering how the hell I remember it but not what happened.
My lower body is feeling like it's on fire. They had better act fast if they want to heal me.
"What happened to me?" I ask her.
"You were almost hit by a semi. In the midst of evading it, you fell over a stump and were scratched by several tree branches that were laying there. The driver was a psychopath who had just been on a killing streak in the neighborhood. He stopped the vehicle and went to finish you off personally due to the lane not being big enough to turn his truck around. After a hard fight you were able to kill him," she says to me, as though it were nothing important.
"Impossible!" I shout back, hurting my lungs in the process. "What proof do you have?!"
"Your own testimony, sir. We arrived on the scene shortly after your fight and asked you what had happened. You responded with everything I told you," she says.
"If that's so, then why do I have gangrene?!" The stench from my battered body is unbearable, nauseating me already. This day just keeps getting worse every minute.
"Calm down, sir. You were laying in the snow afterwards. It was winter when it happened, and your feet began to suffer from necrosis," she explains. "Now I need you to lie still. We're going to preform surgery on you."
I look around my room. The door is shut tightly and only the lights above keep the room from descending into blackness. It's growing hard to breathe every second I'm not operated on.
The nurse is taking out some kind of device to perform surgery on me. She's moving towards my legs.
"Wait! You need anesthetics, right? Get some for me now, I'll be in great pain if you don't! Are you mad?!"
She giggles at that, saying-
"We're in Hell, of course it's going to be painful!"
My whole body is hurting... I guess that means I'm not dead yet. At least not entirely.
Everything is becoming clearer now. But that damned light is getting to me.
I think I'm in a hospital. I'm getting up, or rather trying to. My neck aches no matter how slowly I move it.
"Please stay on your back. You've been through a lot recently," a nurse says to me.
I look down to my arms and legs. They're covered in bruises, scars and cuts. Necrosis (gangrene) is even on my toes. But how did this happen?!
"What is your name?" She asks me. I tell her my name, wondering how the hell I remember it but not what happened.
My lower body is feeling like it's on fire. They had better act fast if they want to heal me.
"What happened to me?" I ask her.
"You were almost hit by a semi. In the midst of evading it, you fell over a stump and were scratched by several tree branches that were laying there. The driver was a psychopath who had just been on a killing streak in the neighborhood. He stopped the vehicle and went to finish you off personally due to the lane not being big enough to turn his truck around. After a hard fight you were able to kill him," she says to me, as though it were nothing important.
"Impossible!" I shout back, hurting my lungs in the process. "What proof do you have?!"
"Your own testimony, sir. We arrived on the scene shortly after your fight and asked you what had happened. You responded with everything I told you," she says.
"If that's so, then why do I have gangrene?!" The stench from my battered body is unbearable, nauseating me already. This day just keeps getting worse every minute.
"Calm down, sir. You were laying in the snow afterwards. It was winter when it happened, and your feet began to suffer from necrosis," she explains. "Now I need you to lie still. We're going to preform surgery on you."
I look around my room. The door is shut tightly and only the lights above keep the room from descending into blackness. It's growing hard to breathe every second I'm not operated on.
The nurse is taking out some kind of device to perform surgery on me. She's moving towards my legs.
"Wait! You need anesthetics, right? Get some for me now, I'll be in great pain if you don't! Are you mad?!"
She giggles at that, saying-
"We're in Hell, of course it's going to be painful!"
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