Approximately a Day Had Passed After Clayton Ray Was Stabbed and His Wife Was Shot…
The ambiance reeked of sterilization and the foul clinical odor commonly found in surgical rooms. The lights were bright. The bed was narrower than usual. The clothes which were dyed at a cross between light-green and light-blue were loose.
Clayton Ray drifted in and out of consciousness for the better part of the morning. By the time he came around, it was well into the afternoon.
His eyelids slowly blinked as he woke up in his hospital bed.
As he regained his faculties, all Clayton Ray could hear was an intermittent ‘tee’… ‘tee’… ‘tee’ emanating from the back of his right shoulder.
Clayton slowly turned his head to the right and as his eyes adjusted to the fluorescent illumination, he could make out
