Injected

Chapter One

He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times before he was able to see clearly. The room wasn’t bright, and Rhys immediately ruled out a hospital, though with the aches he felt in his whole body, he thought that maybe he should be in one. He did seem to be on some sort of bed, though, a highly technical one that resembled a dentist’s chair. He tried to lift his head, but it sent a shooting pain up his neck and into the depths of his skull. It even hurt to move his eyes around too much.

He inspected the room to the best of his ability: dull blue walls, clearly in need of another coat of paint; a counter surrounded the odd shape of the room; a low light hung above him. A door just two metres from the foot of his bed. There were strange things in jars on shelves high above the counter that floated in brown liquids. Rhys wrinkled his nose. Whatever it was, it didn’t look pleasant.

Where was he? Why was he here? He definitely didn’t own the blue and white striped pyjamas he was wearing. Rhys summoned all of his strength and was able to lift his hand about a foot above the bed before it dropped ungracefully beside him, causing him to emit a pained cry. He allowed himself to catch his breath; then he tried the other hand, not going so far as the last time before it dropped. He repeated his actions over and over to find his strength, though it brought him immense pain. What if that door was unlocked?

After a long time -- Rhys had no idea of the time, as the only clock in the room had seemingly long since stopped ticking -- he was no longer move. He lay limp on his increasingly uncomfortable bed, eyes closed. He took deep breaths that hurt his chest even more, and the idea of sleep pulled him in moment by moment.

Within minutes, he was asleep.

***

The next time he woke up, Rhys was a lot less disoriented than the first, but a small c***k sound came continually from somewhere behind him. His heart sped up , unsure as to what it was. He had come to the conclusion that he was alone here…

A short man with a hint of a brown beard came around the bed, wearing a strange black vest and holding a syringe. Rhys’ body jerked away from him at the sight: he’d never liked needles, especially not those that were delivered by men he didn’t know in a place he didn’t recognize. The man jumped slightly, clearly not having noticed that Rhys had awoken. He chuckled slightly and smiled down at Rhys.

“I’m very happy you’ve woken up,” he said as he took Rhys’ arm. Both men's eyes were on the syringe: the man in concentration, Rhys in fear. What was he putting into him? He tried his best not to wince as it broke his skin and the man squeezed the icy liquid into his veins. What could he have done anyways? He was in no fit state to run, and even if he could, where would he go to?

“Don’t worry, Rhys. It’s just the vitamin supplement we give you so that you can stay alive. We’ve done it for a while now.”

But this didn’t help to diminish his fears; if anything, it made it worse. He looked down to his arm -- it was becoming easier to lift his head -- to see plenty of pinpricks on the inside of his elbow. He shivered. He didn’t like where this seemed to be going.

He said nothing.

The man whistled as he sauntered around the room, and Rhys heard cupboards shut behind him.

“Is there anything I can do for you before I leave?” The man asked, coming back to the edge of the bed with a small bag in hand. He peered down at Rhys as though he was an intriguing specimen he’d never seen before.

Rhys opened his mouth and closed it again several times. There were so many questions he burned to ask, but each one seemed more important than the others and he couldn’t bring himself to choose one to start with. So, defeatedly, he shook his head. The man smiled gently.

“I know this isn’t ideal, but this is the only room we have left. It’s usually only used for emergency procedures, and usually you’d have a staff member come in more often than I do, but we’re short with the number of newcomers. I hope you don’t mind.”

And with that, he promptly left.

Rhys mulled over in his mind what the man had said. Emergency procedures? Staff members? Newcomers? What was this place? He didn’t like the sound of it.

He decided on a goal: to sit up. The man hadn’t locked the door and, unless it locked automatically, he could escape this room and figure out what the hell was going on. It was a long and painful process to even move his arm to become a support. Eventually though, he was able to push himself up. There was nothing to lean against to catch his breath, so it took longer, but Rhys was happy to be up in the first place with all the dull, throbbing aches in his body.

It took Rhys two more days to be able to stand without being in excruciating pain. The man - Dennis - who had come that day visited regularly in order to inject Rhys with a fluid. Something that he, admittedly, was grateful for, was that Dennis always told him what the injection was. Rhys had also been able to ask a few questions: he had found out that some of the injections were to keep him safe from a disease he had acquired at a young age, and that they knew it was going to affect him between the ages of thirteen and seventeen. Apparently, his parents had been given symptoms to look for.

He was admitted to a hospital for people with the same rare disease, apparently. Many survived it, though some were overtaken. Rhys had to hand it to him: he was honest. Dennis had told him that he was more at risk than others, information that Rhys had not asked for more of as he sensed that Dennis was not even to reveal this to him. Instead, he had nodded and bitten his lip to keep the questions from flooding out.

So when Rhys was finally able to get out of what he now considered to be his bed, he was ecstatic. It seemed he had not been out of it for years, not having had anything to do in days but to stare at a ceiling. He put one foot in front of the other, and took a deep breath as he crossed the small distance between his bed and the door. He reached up to take the doorknob, twisting it slowly. It clicked . Rhys’ heart beat faster than usual, not knowing what he would find beyond the door. He held onto the doorknob for a few seconds longer, then pushed.

He was somehow surprised to find himself in a hallway. It looked like a regular home here...wooden floors that creaked gently under his feet, a few off-white doors on either side of him. Rhys walked slowly, unsure of himself.

He turned a corner and continued to follow the hall, which went down a set of stairs into a large living room. Instead of chairs and sofas though, he found the room full of beds. There were five, all shoved in hastily. His body ached worse and worse with each minute that went down. Rhys walked as fast as he could manage towards them before stopping dead in his tracks.

There were people in the beds. Startled, he stumbled back and knocked into a lamp, which clattered loudly to the ground. There were a few groans from the beds as they woke up. Rhys stood, paralyzed. A girl, about his age or maybe even a little older, sat up and rubbed her eyes. They focused on Rhys and her face broke into a smile. She was wearing the same blue and white striped pyjamas as Rhys was. Yawning, she stood, walking over to him.

“Hello,” she said softly, glancing over to the others. “I’m Alice. So you’re the new one, huh.” She surveyed him, then smiled. “Dennis has been so excited that you’re up. Surely he doesn’t know you’re out at this time?”

Rhys shook his head.

“That’s alright, that’s how they evaluate us. Whether or not we try to get out of the room. And considering you have, it’s even more likely they’ll keep you here. Come on, I don’t want to wake the others.”

She lead him through a doorway and down another staircase. As she walked, she spoke.

“So, are the rumours true?” Her voice became louder as they moved further away from the others. “They say that you went through a bad transition on the way here?” She stopped as they reached a new room, smaller than the living room, but larger than the room Rhys had stayed in.

He thought about her question for a moment to realize that somehow, over the course of the several days he’d been there doing nothing but think, that he hadn’t once wondered just how he had gotten there. He had been more occupied with the pain that attacked his body.

“I don’t know,” he told Alice. “I remember being at home with the twins, and teaching them-” He cut himself off abruptly.

How had he forgotten about his brothers?! He hadn’t spared them a single thought over the last few days!

“It’s alright,” Alice told him gently. “Not everybody remembers, and you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.” She set a hand on his shoulder, smiled, and dropped it. He took a breath and bit his lip. He couldn’t believe himself. What else had he forgotten? Rhys felt more alone than he’d felt in all his time in this place.

Alice, who seemed to sense this, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed briefly, then went straight back into the other room where they had started.

“You had better go back to your room. Dennis will be expecting you in the morning. You can tell him you came out tonight, it’s not against the rules.” She smiled before heading back to her bed, getting settled in it. She pulled her covers back over herself.

Rhys navigated his way back to his own room and spent the rest of the night awake.