Chapter 8 - Wake Up from the Dead
Inside Rour's head, it felt as if lightning were striking relentlessly—sharp and unyielding, leaving behind the sensation of an excruciating explosion.
As his consciousness began to surface, the pain level in other parts of his body intensified, especially in his left abdomen.
Rour's eyes fluttered open. His blurred vision revealing the outline of a whitewashed wall. The cold, sterile tones seeped into his hazy mind like a fog.
He blinked slowly, his heavy and sticky lids lifting as the room began to take shape.
The wall's bright, stark surface loomed before him, accompanied by the faint hum of nearby machinery.
But the moment was fleeting. His eyes shut tightly again as the pain surged. Each wave stronger than the last, draining little energy he had left.
Weak and desperate, Rour could only muster enough composure to slightly move his head from side to side, searching for help he didn't know how to call for.
He wanted to scream, to cry out for someone—anyone—but only a low, powerless moan escaped his dry lips. The torment was beyond words, a consuming agony that made him feel utterly helpless.
Then, the sound of a door dragging open broke through the haze, followed by the clatter of shoes and muffled voices growing louder.
"Rour?!" A familiar voice called his name with urgency.
"Hhh... urhh..."
He tried to respond, to plead for help, to beg for relief from the pain coursing through his body like fire.
But his voice wouldn't obey. The only sounds were his shallow breaths and weak groans.
"Hey, kid, you're awake. What's wrong with you?" someone approached him, asked while patting his shoulder.
"Quick! Tell them he's awake," said another voice, this one was deeper. Sounded very flat and emotionless.
"The boy's in pain, you idiot!" another, louder, voice shouted back.
"Oh my God!"
Rour couldn't recognize any of them. Their faces were a blur, their voices distant. He was in no condition to ascertain who the people around him were at the moment.
The unimaginable pain had overtaken everything, numbing his senses and twisting his stomach in waves of nausea.
The rapid beeping of a medical machine nearby only added to his discomfort, agitating him further.
Just as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, hands corrected the position of his head, a bright light shone into his eyes, and probing fingers examined parts of his body.
Through the thin slits of his exhausted eyes, he noticed a nurse administering an injection into the IV attached to his hand.
Gradually, the torment began to recede. The unbearable pain faded to a dull ache. The sounds of conversations peppered with angry and anxious intonations that echoed around him also slowly dissolved into distant.
Rour's eyelids, heavy as if weighed down by stones, finally closed.
There was no longer a gripping feeling tormenting him. His muscles no longer felt weak from being hit by pain. His energy seemed to be restored as usual.
It only took a moment for him to drift into the vortex of darkness and emptiness. Pulling him into a deep, peaceful void.
‣‣‣
"Rour?"
The familiar voice pierced through the darkness as he stirred, his eyes opening to thin slivers of light.
It was Reg, his Squad Commander, standing nearby.
"Wait here. I'll call someone to check on you," Reg said, his voice steady but lined with concern.
"Yes," Rour managed to reply, though his voice was weak.
The sharp pain was gone, replaced by a mild dull ache in his head and left abdomen. The medication seemed to have worked, restoring enough strength for him to feel human again.
It didn't take long for Reg to return with two women wearing nurse's uniforms.
One checked the screens of the medical machines displayed beside his bed. While the other shone a bright yellow light into his eyes again, asking him to rate his pain.
"It's not as bad as before," Rour replied, he thought of an estimated number to describe his pain. "I think, maybe, four."
The nurse nodded in acknowledgment.
"The doctor will be here soon. Since it's time to change the bandages, I'll also need to examine your wound. If the pain increases, please let me know."
Rour agreed with a slight nod.
The nurse then positioned his body half-tilted to the right. Unwrapping the bandages that stretched to almost the entire left side of his body, from just below his armpit to his waist.
The cold antiseptic stung against his skin, but the pain remained manageable.
The nurse repeatedly asked him about the pain from his wound. And he answered as he was. The scale only went up by half when the wound was cleaned. The pain went back down like the rest of his body when not touched.
Suddenly, from the direction of the entrance, a man stumbled inside the room. Panting heavily.
He bent over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.
It was a man, round-faced with rosy cheeks, stocky build, and wearing a slightly undersized doctor's coat.
"Woah! I was in a scientific meeting in the next building," he huffed, "but I ran straight here when I heard you'd woken up."
Rour stared at him with astonishment, unsure how to react. He did not know what to make of the information.
Should he thank him for his concern, or ask him to calm down and catch his breath first?
"I'll introduce myself first," he swallowed hard, visibly trying to calm himself. "I'm Dr. Vin Robs. I've been in charge of you since you got here, and I'll be taking care of you until you're a hundred percent recovered."
Once his breathing stabilized, Vin glanced at the nurse working on Rour's bandages. "I'll check on you after the wound is cleaned."
Vin circled around to move behind Rour, his eyes meticulously examining the shape of the wound and the condition of the surrounding skin.
His eyes widened with astonishment.
"Incredible," he muttered, scanning the injury with unblinking focus.
The nurse beside him smiled knowingly. "It's healed this much in just two weeks. Congratulations, Doc."
Vin let out a loud laugh, startling everyone in the room.
Making Rour turn his head to the side spontaneously.
"There's no infection, the tissue is closing well. And the bruising has started to fade. This is the fastest recovery I've ever seen!" he exclaimed. "You even regained consciousness with stable vitals in just two weeks!"
Another burst of laughter erupted from him again. "Isn't something like this worth celebrating?"
Reg, who had been silently watching at the foot of the bed, exchanged a surprised glance with Rour.
"As you must know," Vin continued, his tone turning serious, "surviving a monster's poison is rare—almost unheard of. For ordinary people, the chances are close to zero. Even for Patrioteers with vaccinations, it's barely one or two percent. But for a monster of that size…"
Vin's voice trailed off, his expression a mix of disbelief and admiration.