The Chronicles of Protan (Book 1): The Shadowed Man

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

In the original operating room, the man laid motionless atop the table. He was removed from the coma a day after the conference. Sorin gave the order, as the Alpha team needed to question him. He was now recovering, but hadn’t gained full consciousness yet. Added to that, was the fact that he was monitored less frequently as before and became a second priority.

The surveillance cameras within the room were focused on any movement he might make. It was now three or four days after the biopsy, and would come to at any moment. And he did. His head jerked in his semi-conscious state. The same mannerisms that one would have when dreaming. By now, he would have entered a sleeping state. With this, he heard ghostly whispers as they beckoned him back to reality:

“wakeup Protan…. Wakeup…wakeup Protan…”

They floated around his mind like a slowly evolving plague, with vivid, horrifying images of his past, most likely causing him to flinch in his sleep. I was later told of images of men, women and children being slain; beastly creatures doing unspeakable things to women. But most importantly, familiar faces that would appear again and again.  

The whispers became louder, and behind them now came voices of words spoken and distant screams that only he would understand in time:

“Don’t let them take her!”

“You’re our only hope…”

“ABSOLUTE POWER WILL BE OURS FOREVER!”

“No! Don’t go!”

“I promised him…I promised him I’ll be back…”

“RUUUUUUN!”

“Please, I’m begging you…please, I’m all they.. AAAAAARGHHHHH! UHH…uughh”

“Because of what has this, you’ll become greater than any man or hybrid…”

“There’s no turning back…The time is now!”

“She tasted soooooo goooood…”

“I’m going to find them, and make you both watch while I FUCK her!”

“No more compromises. Yakuza must die…”

“When you get back, you tell her I’m sorry…and I love her. I always have.”

“Wakeup PROTAN, WAKEUP.”  The beckon became too blatant to ignore, “wakeup, wakeup…wakeup…” It started echoing in what felt like his entire skull, “wakeup (wakeup) wakeup (wakeup) WAKEUUUUUUP!”

“HUUUUUUUUUUHHHHH!” He woke up violently, gasping for air, swatting and flailing his arms around as if being attacked. After what seemed like an agonizing minute or two, his eyes opened wide; he glanced around the room frantically, noticing he was all alone in a hospital room that didn’t seem familiar at all, yet he felt an overwhelming sense of security.

He calmed himself, gradually sat up from the bed while pulling out the IV drips from his arms. Resting his arms on his legs, his face changed from bewildered, to a look of anguish. There was no telling how he felt at that moment, but as he lifted his legs toward his chest, he wrapped his arms around them, rocked back and forth, with his forehead placed perfectly on his knees. Just then, little jerks of his body suggested his sudden realization of where he might be. The tears could be seen dripping onto his hospital garment. Until this day, he wouldn’t be able to tell you if those tears were joyful celebration, or a saddened sense of loss. But one thing he would say, is that for the first time in years, he felt safe again.