The Transcended: They call him Lucius

Part 3: Blood ~ Chapter 18

She gritted her teeth and peered over the edge of the bed. The red light of the error message did not illuminate much. Carefully, she attempted to slide off the bed and onto the ground, but her muscles protested and twitched. Unable to carry her weight, she fell to the floor.

Shit, how long have I been out? She pushed herself upright, the remainder of her legs awkwardly attempting to cross themselves. I feel so weak. She swallowed as she looked around the dark room. And I could use some water.

She spotted the door by the small strip of light near the ground. With an annoyed grunt, she crawled towards it.

I shouldn't have dropped that catheter—it reeks of urine in here now. She flared her nostrils in disgust. Hindsight's a bitch.

She sat up next to the door and searched for a light switch. She patted the wall left to right, a little higher every time she failed to find it. Finally, her fingers hit plastic—only just within reach—and she flicked the switch. The bright light hurt her eye for a moment. Once adjusted, she looked at herself.

The shirt she was wearing barely covered her thighs, making her regret her earlier decision of going commando. The shame of being naked faded upon seeing the markings on her skin. The name Bobbi was written multiple times on every limb. Her trembling fingers trailed the letters on her legs, arms, even her belly and chest.

They're a few days old, tops, she concluded with gritted teeth, rage pulsing through her. No scars, but I assume that's a transcendence perk. She scoffed. But that means I can't know how often he did this.

The desire for vengeance consuming her, she crawled her way to the cabinets.

I need to find a weapon. Something I can use to protect myself with when he comes back. Something I can use to fuck him up.

She looked in the cabinets but found them filled only with clean linens, washcloths, and diapers. On top of the counter, she spotted a sharps container—but it was out of reach.

Fuck.

She gazed around the room and noticed a wheelchair. She made her way over and tried to think of how to get herself into it. There were brakes on the big wheels and she pulled them. The chair now fixed in place, she attempted to climb in—without success.

Fucking hell, how do people do this?

The wheelchair didn't have footrests, and she just couldn't get a good grip to hoist herself high enough to get in.

"Fuck!" She pushed the thing, wanting to throw it across the room but lacking the strength to do so, but the brakes ensured it didn't even slide. Frustrated, she scanned her surroundings for other options.

Her gaze fell on an unused IV stand—which was basically a long metal pole on wheels. She retrieved it and rolled it over to the counter. Once there, she lifted it with some effort and used it to push the sharps container to the edge.

Too bad this thing is too heavy and big to use—if I still had my legs and proper strength, I would have loved whacking Lucius into a pulp with it. The mental image of her doing just that made the corners of her lips pull up in a wicked smile. Oh, Lucius. She lowered the stand, placing it back on its wheels, and shoved it away. I'm going to kill you. She reached for the sharps container. One way or another, I'll make you pay for everything you've put me through.

Her smile faltered as she picked up the container—it was nearly empty. She peeked inside and smirked upon seeing two capped syringes. She took them out and placed the container back on the counter.