Saturday, August 8, 2009

08/08 | 01:51 AM | ASLEEP5

Maybe I'm imagining things... but...

Well, I'll start with my fever. I've been sick since yesterday, but the meeting I had earlier with the doc... I don't really know how to say it, but fuck, it made it worse.

Sounds stupid, I know. But... Well, before talking to him, I was just a little warmer than usual. Nothing too uncomfortable, just a little warm. The air felt a tiny bit stifling, and I could feel that nonexistent humidity, but again, nothing really. But then I talked to the doc, and as soon as he drew attention to my small fever, it seemed to heighten.

I started to sweat far more profusely. My breaths began to burn. By the time he was out of the room, my body had broken out in a cold sweat.

Fucking weird.

I was hoping it was just the tension, that maybe my temperature might drop given enough time. That maybe all I needed was a little relaxation away from the stress.

I took a nap. Yeah, fuck it. I needed some rest.

But when I woke up, my whole body was writhing, and I was screaming.

And for a fraction of a second, where in I was awake and still numb enough to continue screaming, I heard my own voice piercing the sterile quiet of the hospital room I was in.

A Freak's scream. Horror piercing reality.

I bit down hard enough to draw blood and immediately, the scream ceased. My writhing body relaxed rigidly into a sweating, tense mass. But the bindings had done their job. I had not gotten away from the bed.


I glance up after a minute of laying there, cursing after each heavy breath, and I see two people, standing out there, beyond the door.

One is the nurse, Elissa, she has a rather large needle clutched in one hand, and a strained expression captured on her light features. She arguing with the other person.

And that other person is a guard. I can't see his face from the direction, but because he isn't balding, I think it's safe to say it's Sean out there. The 'real' Sean. He's blocking Elissa's path into the room. His large shiny submachine gun pointed easily into the room. Toward the bed. At me.

God, it hurts... am I really getting better?

After all... the last thing that's bothering me, and I really do hope I'm only imagining it...

A snarl.

It almost sounds like a cats. Distinctly feline, yet also distinctly dangerous. A sound meant to denote danger. Stay away! But far more feral. And far too similar to the dogs of my delusion. I heard it first as I awoke. Then five minutes ago. And again just now. At first it was faint, but I think it's getting louder...

I'm not sure...

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