I awoke to the smell of something rotting.
I opened my eyes, and a bright light was shining above me. After I focused my vision, I could see that it was a type of lamp hovering over me.
My hearing took a while longer to work again, but once I started to hear people near me talking, I remembered what had happened. Or at least partially what had happened.
I felt something heavy covering part of my face; I felt it with my right hand to figure out it was a gas mask.
And I was lying down on my back, on some sort of table.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming towards me.
I froze.
“Experiment number… Twenty-three…” A masculine voice said by my right side. I couldn’t make out a face, because the lamp above me was far too bright.
“Remove that, nurse…” He added, and only now did I notice he appeared to be simultaneously writing on a clipboard.
“Yes, doctor,” A feminine voice said to the left of me. A shadow of her hovered over me, and she grabbed the sides of the gas mask. She promptly removed the mask from my face, and set it on another table somewhere off to the side.
I remained still.
“Name?” The man inquired, moving the lamp slightly so it wasn’t blinding me as much.
I blinked a couple of times, breathing extremely heavily.
“Name…?” The man repeated, looking directly at me now.
I refocused my eyes onto him, and realized he was the same man who had kidnapped me earlier. He wore the same medical mask and gloves, but now wore a black tee shirt and a white lab coat. No beanie.
“Sk…Skye…” I replied, my voice shaking. I was trying to hold my tears back from bursting.
The man made a deep, hoarse chuckle.
“Full name,” He spoke.
I gulped.
“Skyela Marti,” I managed back. My voice still quavered.
He wrote down a few notes on his clipboard before speaking again.
“Age?”
I took a deep breath before answering.
“Sixteen.”
He wrote more, and then shot another question towards me.
“Date of birth?”
“March fourteenth,” I responded a bit more swiftly this time.
“Mother’s name?”
I hesitated to reply this time.
“K-Kelly Marti.”
The man took longer writing this time.
“Nurse?” He finally said, staring down at his clipboard.
“Yes, doctor?” The woman slowly re-approached the bedside. I could now see that she had medium-length beach blonde hair, reaching a few inches below her shoulders. She seemed tall, and also had on a mask, rubber gloves, and a white coat, with a black dress underneath.
“Check Twenty-three’s heart rate.” He commanded her.
The woman only nodded, and then reached behind my head to pick up a stethoscope. She inserted the ear buds into both of her ears, then placed the flat round piece on the other end against my chest, directly above my heart.
