I'm forced back into consciousness by a sharp pain radiating through my back. With a deep wince, I open my eyes—only to realize I can see nothing.
My body flinches instinctively, and I jolt upright—immediately regretting it as the pain surges, forcing a groan from my throat.
I blink several times, hoping my vision will adjust. But still, I see absolutely nothing.
A wave of panic creeps in.
Am I… blind?
That thought coils around my mind until, in the distance, I see it. A tiny dot of light—very far away, but there.
I exhale in relief. My sight is fine. It's just… wherever I am now, there's no light at all.
Slowly, I test my muscles and bones, moving them one by one. Everything hurts—but I can still move. That's good. That means I can get out of here.
I push myself upright and begin dragging my body toward the light.
I don't know how long I've been walking.
I've lost count of my steps.
The light still feels far away—like I'm making no progress at all. But I know that's not true. The dot is slightly bigger now. I am getting closer. Just too damn slowly.
Exhaustion sets in, and I finally collapse to rest. I have nothing to lean on, so I lie flat on the cold ground.
Something tickles my chest.
At first, I ignore it. But then—it moves.
Legs. Tiny legs creeping across my skin.
Reflexively, I swipe it away. Then I turn over and blindly grope in the darkness, trying to catch whatever it was.
It's already gone. Probably scared off, running for its life.
Lucky bastard.
Since I'm already awake, I force myself to keep moving. The air is cold and humid, and my body shivers.
There's no wind, but it feels like an underground chamber.
Assuming the light will lead me somewhere warmer, I push forward, ignoring the pain at every step.
Slowly, the light grows. But not as much as I expected.
When I finally reach it, I see why.
It's not an exit.
It's a tunnel.
Roughly one meter in diameter. Tight. Claustrophobic.
But it's my only way out.
I take a deep breath and crawl inside.
I have no idea what's waiting at the other end.
But after coming this far, there's no turning back.
The tunnel is shorter than expected. After only a few crawls, I emerge into blinding light.
My vision whites out, overwhelmed by the sudden brightness. I shut my eyes tight, waiting for them to adjust.
When I open them again, I freeze.
I'm not outside.
I'm in a massive white room—empty, sterile, and eerily bright.
Dozens, maybe hundreds, of lightbulbs hang above, their glow bouncing off the all-white walls.
No furniture. No doors.
Nothing.
"What is this place?" I whisper, my voice barely above a breath.
"How the hell did I end up here?"
Before I can process further, my chest itches again.
I look down—and my heart stops.
A scorpion is crawling across my skin.
Instinct takes over—I swipe it off. It lands next to my foot.
I raise my foot, ready to crush it.
But something stops me.
Instead, I squat down, studying it.
It's not a normal scorpion.
Its body is yellow—more slender than the ones I'm used to seeing. And its skin is semi-transparent.
I can see its veins.
Do scorpions even have veins?
At least… this one does.
I lean in closer.
The scorpion leaps at me.
Before I can react, it stings the center of my forehead.
Pain explodes through my skull.
It's like being electrocuted—high voltage surging through my brain.
I collapse, muscles convulsing uncontrollably.
My body curls into a fetal position. The pain is unbearable—it feels like my brain is imploding, each nerve bursting one by one.
My vision blacks out.
My mouth is open, but I can't even scream—
"AAAAAAAAAARGH!!"
The scream finally rips from my throat as I bolt upright.
I'm somewhere else.
The white room is gone.
"Score! You're awake!!"
A familiar voice.
Someone grabs my hand—I instinctively twist it, ready to break it.
"OW!! Score, you're hurting me!!"
I know that voice.
I turn, gasping.
"Thief?" I whisper, my voice raw, caught between disbelief and confusion.
"Yes, it's me!" she confirms, grimacing in pain.
I immediately release her.
Then I see two more familiar faces.
"Andy? Bob?"
"Glad you're awake, Boss," Bob says.
I look around, still disoriented.
"Where… where am I?"
The room is filled with medical equipment—life support systems, monitoring tools. But it's not a hospital.
"A warehouse, ten miles from where you fell," Bob answers.
"The medical squad set this up when they found—"
"I fell?" I interrupt.
"You did," Thief says, frowning. "Don't tell me you have amnesia again."
Memories crash into me.
The helicopter. The crash. The mission.
I shake my head. "No. I remember."
I shift my gaze to the trio in front of me.
"Then why the hell are you all here?!?!"
"You were in a coma," Andy says, voice heavy with concern.
I barely register it.
"If you're both here… who's watching Jen?" My voice turns sharp.
"She's in her office," Bob says quickly. "I have my man watching—"
"I told YOU to watch her. Not your man!" I snap.
Then I turn to Thief.
"And you—why the hell is the daughter of a presidential candidate here?"
"You were dying, Score. We were worried," Thief says softly.
"Do you know how many paparazzi are following you? Not to mention your father's bodyguards—"
"Andy helped me disguise myself, okay? My bodyguards are guarding my dorm, thinking I had another tantrum with my father."
I sigh.
"How long was I out?"
"Almost two weeks," Andy says.
What?!
I immediately throw off the blanket and swing my legs over the bed—ignoring the sharp pain shooting through me.
The trio tries to stop me.
"Scott, you're paralyzed—" Andy starts, but then his words die as he watches me stand up.
"What?!" I glare at him.
"The doctors said you broke your spine. You're supposed to be unable to walk," Bob says.
"Well," I mutter, ripping out the IV and cables from my body. "They were wrong."
"Wait—Score!! Where are you going?!"
"Home," I say, limping toward the exit.
I've already wasted two weeks.
QUICK QUIZ:
Why is Scott so determined to go home?
Leave your answer in the comments below. ^_~