The Survivor of the 27

Chapter thirteen

I jolt up, remembering what happened. Only thing though is that I can't move. I try to lift up my head but I am bound to a hospital bed. I try to get out but I can't. Both the bed and the restraints are made out of metal. I look to my right arm where I have an IV bag attached to my arm. Inside the bag is a blue liquid.

"What the hell is this?" I ask in a shaky voice. How am I back here? Why am I here? What does he want? Why me? I want to go home. I don't want to be here.

I try to calm down and take in my surroundings. I need to find a way out. There's a big light above my head. The old hospital lights that they would use in the 90's. Next to me is a table. On it are different types of scalpels, needles, and other medical things. I look over to the bottom left corner of the room where I spot a bunch of oxygen tanks. The hospital room is dark and dirty, but I wouldn't expect anything else.

"I wouldn't try to fight back if I were you." I try to turn my head but I don't have to do that to know who's talking to me.

"What are you putting in me?" I frantically ask.

"Give it time. Now tell me, what was it like thinking that you got away?" Hassan says.

"You won't break me," I tell him.

"Have you ever read any of the Batman comics?" He asks, taking me off guard.

"What?" Is all I ask. What kind of a question is that?

"You know the villain Scarecrow? Well we found out a similar drug that he uses. And today, you will be our test subject," he says. I can feel his hands on my face. They're dry and cold. I can feel fear and adrenaline rushing through my body.

Hassan walks to the end of the bed and smiles at me. Then he snaps his fingers and as he does I can feel a mask be put over my face. And suddenly I'm reliving my worst nightmares.

I'm standing in a hallway and there's a red door in front of me. I can hear muffled screaming coming from behind it. It sounds like a woman's cry. I walk up to the door and open it.

Immediately my heart drops. It's the day my mother died. I see my mother on the ground. She has a split lip and cuts all over her from my father.

"No, please no. Don't do this," she cries. Standing in front of her is a black figure. In the figure's hand, the person is holding a gun. Then there's a bang.

"NO!" I yell running to her side. I kneel beside her and put pressure on the gunshot wound on her abdomen.

"It's ok. It's going to be ok. Just stay with me," I plead.

"Macie," she barely gets out. She brings her hand to my face which is covered in her blood. I can see the blood drain from her face.

"It's your fault," she chokes out.

"What?" I squeak out. Then she stands up as if nothing has happened.

"You. You killed me," she states. But the more she talks the more it starts to sound disoriented. "You killed me, you're the murderer. Your fault. YOUR FAULT!" She starts screaming. She repeats it again and again and again. I stand up and start backing away, shaking my head.

"No," I say, backing away into the wall.

"YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!" My mother yells at me over and over again. I slide down the wall closing my eyes, tight, and covering my ears.

"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real," I repeat over and over again. "No! This isn't real!" I say standing up. This is just in my head!

My eyes shoot open and I'm back lying on the metal table. But this time, instead of having the mask over my mouth I have a tube going down my throat. I need to stay calm, just stay calm.