"Sssshhhhhhssssss kkrrrtt don't have enough resourcessshhhhssss… scritch scritch… ssshhssss there is still hope, however…. Ssshshssss hssshshh the new planet can ssshskkkstchshhh…." Marcie's vision was blurred, not being able to make anything out in detail, nor could she look directly at the creatures speaking before her, but somehow, she just knew that they were not human.
It seemed like parts of their bodies had been unnaturally augmented in different ways, each unique to the individual. There was a sense of desperation in the tone of their voices when she could hear the words through the static, almost like a bad connection on an old TV with slightly off-kilter rabbit ear antennas. Scritch scritch scritch.
Marcie was paralyzed in her place, standing, but completely frozen. The creatures then turned to her with hollow eyes that felt like that could suck her up like a black hole. One creature reached out a limb towards her abdomen. Though it was actually painless, Marcie got the impression of her soul and life energy being ripped from her body. Her screams while loud and profound in her perceived agony couldn't actually escape her lips. Scritch SCRITCH SCRITCH SCRITCH.
A huge deep breath gave Marcie a momentary relief from her terror as her eyes shot awake. The panicked breathing eventually calmed down when she realized that she was just in a dream, a very strange dream. The horrible smell of fresh corpses that blew in from the fans reminded her of where she was, albeit the smell didn't seem as strong before.
~Ding!
*Tranquilizer substance has been successfully neutralized. Immunity to the substance Etomidate has been acquired. Poison Resistance D is now level 7.*
Marcie took in a deep breath and started to wiggle her fingers and arms around. There was a combination of pins and needles along with a subtle ache in her back from being stuck in the same position on the bed for what felt like a few days. It was pretty clear that these people had no qualms with their captive getting bed sores, an ailment that is much worse than it sounds.
No sooner had she begun to work out her circulation and nerves reawakening had the door to her slightly darkened room clicked open and a small group of people approached. Marcie thought it best to play along with the concept of total paralysis like they had intended for now.
"Miss Marcie Bromley… 34 years old, single and living alone. Two years ago was involved in the Harben Bridge Gate incident along with your two parents. Father is reported to have been swallowed into the portal and later pronounced dead and mother was killed during the traffic pileup. You survived the pileup but suffered from a multitude of what should have been fatal injuries, including debris impalement and a crushed spine."
Marcie felt annoyed that this man was muttering off her history. Clearly he looked into her past. She was never a special person by any means but she still felt a little violated having her life pried into like that. The man flipped to another page in the file he held firmly in his hand.
"A few days ago you were involved in yet another Gate incident, this time, having been swallowed yourself. I find it fascinating that you managed to survive considering your disabled state. Still, fate seems to favor you Miss Bromley and deems your survival to be important." The man flipped to yet another page. One of the other people increased the lights of the room from a dimmer switch in the corner.
Now with far better visibility, Marcie was able to tell that this man rarely got outside much. His skin looked pale and ashen with sunken eyes and hollow cheeks. His hair was long and unkempt and looked like it had been hurriedly tied back. His yellowed teeth and scraggly attempts at a beard stink to the high heaven of cigarettes.
No name tags in sight unlike the identification clips that the hospital staff had to wear as part of their mandatory dress code. The man's lab coat even had signs of stain from who knows what kind of substances.
"It's with great regret, however, that I must inform you that the other night a nurse had found you on the floor in your recovery room. It seems you must have moved in your sleep and took a nasty fall. We had done some tests and found that it had caused more damage to your spine increasing the severity of your paralysis. We don't know if this is permanent yet, but I can assure you the staff here at St. Jaimeson Hospital will make sure to keep you comfortable."
The man flipped to another page. Marcie had caught the slightest glimpse at the page he was just on. It was blank? What?
"B-but I can't a-afford…" Marcie began when the man raised his hand to interrupt.
"The Association has stepped forward to take care of your medical bills moving forward Miss Bromley. Now, you have gone through a great deal of trauma. I've sent for a therapist to come in to work with you every day to help you work through it. I must be off now so I wish you a good day."
The man and the group of people ignored any notions of acknowledgement from the bedridden woman and left to their own employment elsewhere. Marcie was left there by herself once again, gawking at the situation she was in. Wait, did he just claim to be from the hospital? What's going on? Something felt really off about all this. Why is the Association getting involved?