Coup D'état *Discontinued

Night Thirteen

Whatever had been in the food did not go well with my stomach. Within an hour after finishing the disgusting pile of chunky slime, I was curled in one of the corners of the room in the fetal position.  My stomach squeezed, threatening to release its contents up my throat.

I didn’t think I was going to be able to move.

Ever again.

                My stomach was making noises that I’d never before heard it back, and each one caused me to worry just the slightest bit more for my health. If the food they would give me would continue to poison me, should I even bother eating it?

                The empty pouch that had previously contained water was now being crushed by the death grip my hand had on it. I tried to breathe in steady and slowly, but nothing seemed to be working. The pain was all too great.

                Memories lingered from the dream I had, entertaining me as time passed slowly around. There was a feel to the situation that made me believe it wasn’t fiction. Something was different. Something that was leading me to believe this was more of a memory than a dream.

                But that only raised more questions. I tried to rack my brain for an answer as to who the mysterious lady was. Recognition tugged at the back of my mind, but I lacked a name to place with the face. It frustrated me infinitely.

                My stomach gave a discomforting squeeze and I groaned, trying to hold what I had just eaten. I could feel bile rising up my throat, but I knew that I needed to retain whatever nutrition was in that poisonous slob.

                Fuck it.

                I rolled over onto all fours and threw up for the second time since eating the food.

                ~*~

                A sharp knock jolted me awake.

                The quick sound had been so soft and subtle. For a moment, I wondered if I’d even heard it to begin with.

                Knock.

                My body froze, eyes wide open. This couldn’t be my imagination. Not the second time I’d hear it.

                Cautiously, I arose from my seated position on the ground. The pile of vomit lingered on the opposite side of the small room. The knocking seemed to me coming from around there. My stomach quenched at the thought of going near it.

                Something creaked. My heartbeat quickened with anticipation. What was going on? Was this a test?

                A black slit opened up in the wall, seemingly out of nowhere. It began as a faint line, growing thicker and thicker as the creaking continued. There was nowhere for me to hide. I stood frozen in my spot on the opposite side of the room watching.

                And suddenly, a hand popped through. The five fingers pointed out in all directions, curling and uncurling as they moved about in the free air.

                “Eva.” A hushed voice whispered.

                I inhaled sharply, “Who’s there?”

                “Come here.” The voice was evidently deep. It was husky, as if its owner hadn’t spoken in a while. The dialect allowed me to realize that I was in fact speaking to a human, and not anything robotic. Hesitantly, I obeyed the command. I was careful not to step in the pile of vomit in the corner, but cringed as the stench grew worse.