I closed my eyes to embrace whatever that was going to happen for the next moment.
“Turn it up to 100 watts! Or else she’s going to die!” HMmmm, it was the first voice.
“Doc, the defibrillator ready.” The calming woman voice said.
“In the count of three, two, one!” Thump.
“No signs at the CRO.”
“Turn it up a notch.” The machine hummed into a greater drive.
“In three, two, one!“ Thump.
“Screw it. Turn it up to the highest!”
“Do it. If not all hope is gone!” the first voice interjected.
My consciousness was shot back onto the train. There were more of those figures there. The air was condensed with the sense to kill. I felt like being thrown into a lions’ pit, waiting to be torn into pieces. A pair of daggers appeared beside me, they were electrified. I picked them up and wore them at my knuckles nonchalantly, preparing myself for a death battle. It was a do or die situation. If they strike, then I… my thoughts were torn apart. I was being controlled again.
I sat there, hoping for the train to stop. Nothing changed. The atmosphere was intensified. The figures were multiplying. The train was elongated. I recounted the susceptibility to live. It would need a miracle to…
do you believe in miracles? A foreign voice spoke in my head.
The train halted abruptly, inertia happened, everybody stumbled in the train. I was not. My hands had the dagger and sliced through the figures. You are goin… My thoughts snapped, I sprinted across the train with the daggers in my hands, running amok, slashing those figures like never before. Flashes were sent across the train. Everything happened too fast for my eyes to even catch up.
I spotted an ‘exit’ sign at the end of the train. There, at the end of the train. I prompted the foreign voice who was presumably controlling my body. It was the slightest but the brightest light at the end of the tunnel. My body swirled and knocked out a handful of those figures. Most of the figures had slumped to the ground.
believe the miracle to happen. The foreign voice spoke again. I was in control of my body. Finally! The figures which were sliced started to liquidified, the train stopped as it was melted by the acid which were secreted by the figures. I ran towards the ‘exit’ sign. The train was being engulfed by the unknown liquid. Knowing that I had nothing to lose, I forced my way to the ray of hope.
The ‘exit’ sign was diminishing. More figures started to conjured in front of me except this time was bigger, more brutal, and deadlier. This is disheartening. I lashed through the way. The sign was getting smaller by the second. I pressed on harder. Not realising that I was being stabbed repeatedly for countless times because my sense to feel was still down.
As I got closer to the ‘exit’ sign, it was at my foot. How could I get in? I turned around and saw the wave of bloodthirsty freaks flooding into me. I acted based on intuition, I squatted down and crawled into the sign. It worked. I pushed myself as fast as possible, all hell had broken lose at my back. The throng of the figures started to catch up with me.
There was a gate about to come down ahead of me. I crawled faster. Come on. Just a few more feet. The light in front of me blinded me. I sunk back into the bed.
“It’s worthless, John.” it was the grumpy voice from before.
“No, Phil! I see hope.” the first voice responded with a protective tone.
“You tried to give the leukemia patients cocktails of drugs.” the grumpy voice paused, “And now you are trying to save a dead body.”
“She is not dead.” the first voice emphasized, “When a patient still has heartbeat which meant he or she has signs of life. Plus, when I had deemed them to be savable, they have hope.”
“You better stop with this jargon, if not you will lose another life, like how your ludicrous moves to the leukemia patients and killed some of them.”
“Look, Phil. These patients have nothing to lose.” The first voice cleared his throat, “They are sent here a few steps away from death. We as doctors, or namely, agents of hope, is to give them hope, not just sitting around and doing the old things which will kill the patients eventually. Why not try out something new?”
“Stiff-necked.” the grumpy voice muttered.
The door slammed and my consciousness flew back into a field of greens. How did I survived the horde? I was laying there wearing a white blouse. The wind brushed through the grass. I stood up and noticed that I was thinner than before. My vision swept through the endless field of grass, even the horizon was grass.
There was a black spot which came into my sight. I turned away, but the black spot was still there. I ran. I did not want to be engulfed in darkness again. As I was running, the black spot grew bigger. I turned and run, the same thing happened. I changed direction once more, the black spot just grew bigger when I tried to run. I should stop. My body did not grew fatigue after the attempts of running away from the black spot, it could not stop, it was not under my command.
I ran towards the black spot unwillingly, I tried to pull back my body, but it just got closer to it. I gave up eventually, my eyes fixed unto the black spot. It was a tree inundated by a outlandish black glow. The picture grew distinct. The tree was nothing but branches, and was swallowed by a black fire in an anti-gravity environment. The black fire covered the tree in a spherical fashion.
I was getting closer to the tree. My weight did not decrease at all. The gravitational field in that area was completely normal. I could not stop myself, instead I swam with the current, I followed my body voluntarily. I stood right under the boughs of black fire. It was not sweltering at all, I felt nothing, perhaps my sense of touch was still down.
There was seamless films of pictures across my field of vision which was on the burning tree. A sense of familiarity hit me like a truck. It felt like I was in those films. The playbacks clicked a part of my mind. I was back in a car. I was chatting happily with my family, everything seemed all right. We were on a road trip, my dad liked road trips. The radio was at full blast. My dad was driving, my mom was the shotgun, and I was sandwiched in between my siblings.
Just when everything was all good, a brutal blow landed on our car. A landslide wasted us and sent us off the cliff into the ocean along with another truck transporting logs. The airbags popped, I shield myself with my bare hands and I was thrown out of the car. The water was entering my lungs at an alarming rate, I swam up to breath, but there were too much detritus obstructing me. I pushed away an opening with every ounce of my energy, and found a log to grab hold.
The car and the truck sank into the Davy Jones’ locker. I was struggling to survive, and I realised my family was dead. My heart did not respond to it, the pain was overwhelming, I was covered in blood. I was there, stranded in the car crash for two days until a chopper rescued me from this accident. If you sleep or shut down now, you are screwed. I told myself continuously, I kept myself up until I was being saved.
“The blood count is still not rising.” the soothing and calm female voice spoke.
“Keep trying my method.” the first voice said.
“Sure.” the female voice responded meekly.
“I’m gonna save you.” the first voice said vehemently, cogently, and filled with hope. “Don’t worry, there’s hope.” he asserted.