She awoke to pitch black, sweat sheathed over her and encased her clothes with a prominent dampness. She shrugged off her blanket that had tangled itself around her body and began to sit up until she heard a roll of wheels at her side, what sounded like a jostling bag of water hovering on the left side of her head. She now had realized that the two were connected, strung along a tube that fed just above her wrist. If she had jerked herself any further, the needle probably would’ve shot out of her like an arrow.  

Her focus shifted onto a blinking blue light just outside of her room’s door, momentarily illuminating it  with a hallow glow. She looked down at her hands and was surprised to see the number of bruises that stained her arm like a rotting banana. She couldn’t quite remember how she’d gotten them.  

Now that she considered the thought, she couldn’t quite remember how she’d even gotten in here.  

The rhythmic blue lighting suddenly came to a stop, a push of a button and a sharp intake of air allowed a shallow-looking woman inside to come bustling through, a clipboard in hand as a large headlight shocked the pupils of her eyes.  

“I see that you’ve finally decided to wake up,” the woman muttered, scribbling a flurry of words on the paper of her clipboard. Then she smiled, “How would you like to be escorted?”  

She felt the beginning of a frown enter onto her lips then decided against it. By the woman’s tone she could only guess that she had become somewhat of an inconvenience for the hospital and wouldn’t want to sully her attitude more by showing she was in a mood. Who knows? They probably just saved her life. Her thoughts returned to the question asked.  

“What do you mean by escorted? Is a stretcher or wheelchair not going to be pulled out for me to access?”  

The woman laughed as if she were stupid. Like she was to know the answer to that question. It felt odd. A sudden amount of unease swept over her, murky like a fog over her mind. Was this not a hospital that she had been placed in?  

The woman scoffed at her. If she was able to see her expression, she would probably be rolling her eyes by now. Was her curiosity too informal? She wasn’t the type to just sit and become obedient. She needed answers first.  

When she opened her mouth to ask another question, she was cut short by the beep of a button and a flurry of white noise, sharp sounds of voices talking slicing the silence like a knife. She couldn’t quite gather what they were saying, the woman a little way away from where she resided in her bed. But she could make out a few words. Each one tugging her heart further and further down into her stomach.  

“Testing.”  

“Patient inconclusive.”  

“Drug didn’t manifest.”  

She didn’t wait to listen for what the woman had to say. An all-consuming urge jolted her veins, subconsciously moving her muscles to rip out the tube fastened in her forearm.  

“Don’t!” The woman let out a shriek of horror, but it was far too late. Nothing bounded her to the room she was confined in. She was free.  

She secretly thanked the woman for following her vision with her movements, the headlight stung to her forehead allowing her to escape the room within seconds of seeing the doorknob.  

She fled into the darkness, the shadows clinging to her like a safety blanket. Her chest heaved. Muscles ached. It felt as though her legs were running for the first time, bare soles clacking unsteadily on porcelain. If she weren’t in fight or flight, she would’ve already been dry heaving on the floor. 

Then, a metal sign hovering over a set of double doors flickered a bit, capturing her attention. Its large letters in a pale green nearly made her cry tears of joy.  

Exit.  

She read it again. 

Her legs pulled her harder, faster if they could. Her entire body was screaming at her to leave.  

A blinding white light engulfed her eyes, shocking her knees to the ground like metal plates being pulled by strings. She let out a sob as she felt one of the plates crack, shards separating as sensitive joints collided into the floor.  

“Patient 227 has been located!” Someone shouted from further down the hall.  

Her body collided with the floor on the same beat as the click of someone’s shoes. The side of her head panged against the ground like a bowling ball, rolling to the side as it craned up to see the sign.  

Exit. She was only two feet away from it.   

“Constrain her,” a booming voice yelled like venom in her ears. It didn’t take long for a set of arms to hoist up her shoulders and back onto her shattered knee.  

She screamed as white-hot pain seared into her leg, shooting into her neck. Her head jerked forward, too tired to hold itself up. Blood stained the tiled floor, pooling at her legs. If she were squeamish, she probably would’ve fainted.  

“Someone grab me a mask,” the man huffed out, slightly annoyed. It was as though he had done this a thousand times before. Seeing people escape. Bringing them back. She stirred with nausea so violent it nearly made her blind.  

“What. . .are you. . .do with me?” words drawled from her mouth slowly yet harsh as though she hadn’t spoken in months.  

She saw a pair of boots stand under her head then a pair of knees as he crouched down to her level.  

Knees. It reminded her of her own and cued another wave of pain to wrack her body again. She let out another pained scream like an ensnared animal.  

“Test on you, since you were one of our candidates that signed up themselves,” he answered boredly.  

Signed up? Since when did she agree to this? Why would she even be willing to be tested on something she had no knowledge of knowing about?  

“I’m assuming you don’t remember,” he said confirming her thoughts. He fastened a strap to the back of her head as it slightly slipped down with her hair, a transparent, beak-like device encasing her mouth and nose as it fed her a type of air, she couldn’t quite place the name of.  

She began to see spots in her vision. Breathing starting to slow. 

Just before it all went dark, she caught the muffled words of the man who masked her, spoken as if it were insignificant.  

“You’re one of the first patients to wake from a prolonged three-hundred-year hibernation.”