Reigning Sin

27.

Chapter 27: Tyro
Noun|Meaning:
A beginner in learning anything.

😇Emi's P.O.V

I would've expected that if I wake up, I'd be walking up to the gates of the afterlife for my judgment.

That obviously didn't happen because when I woke up, I was in a hospital bed but the room that I was in screamed far from the hospital.

The walls were made up of thick logs that were attached to one another, a cabinet with a red cross was at the upper corner where I'm guessing are medical supplies.

A window where a glimpse of sunshine was peeking in through the thick curtain, making the room look more lively. The room smelled like the hospital though.

I sat up, my brows pinching in confusion when the only wave of pain that fell on me was the one in my stomach.

Turning my hands to me, my eyes widened when there wasn't a sight of any wound from the glass.

Pulling the blankets away, I was still in my clothes from yesterday and the wound on my thigh was completely gone.

My hand came up to brush against the spot but there was only my skin. Nothing else.

How the hell did I managed to heal that fast?

Moving my hand to towards my bandaged stomach, it was the only wound that didn't heal. My brain took a memory lane and I remembered it was from the vampire that clawed me.

My hand was attached in what seems to be an IV, a heart rate monitor beside the side table.

There was a metal table in the far corner, same like those in medical movies, where various tools were lined up and I found my heart rate hiking up at the sight of a scalpel.

Where they planning to fatten me up and eat me?

I had to get out of here, I thought. Never again would I let myself be put in a position where I can be taken advantage of.

With that in mind, I started to pull the attached objects on me and tried not to whimper when I harshly pulled my IV off.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up from the bed. Wobbling slightly and placing a hand on the bed to secure myself.

Taking a step, my bandaged stomach felt sore and the pain was bearable. Walking towards the metallic table, I gulped, glancing at the sharp objects.

Choosing a sharp scissors instead of the scalpel. The thought of holding something similar to a knife had me feeling sick.

Not once could I get myself to touch a knife, even hold it. Just the sight of it brought memories that had me wanting to vomit the contents in my stomach.

I felt myself flinch when the door suddenly opened, my body turning around and bringing the weapon up in defense.

The figures paused, probably surprised to see a battered woman holding a scissors to them.

My hold on the scissors faltered for a brief moment, recognizing the woman from yesterday. A lank guy with glasses stood next to her.