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Everything's Twisted (Part 1)

Part 1

By PIRO4D via Pixabay

I was lying on a bed; a comfortable one. It was nice and warm under my blanket, and the room was humid. Humid… Something was off. I quickly opened my eyes, and allowed them to adjust to the darkness. This isn’t my bedroom, I thought as I gazed around in the poorly lit up room. I was trying not to panic as I observed my surroundings. In front of me there was a set of two industrial doors, the type they have in hospitals. I kept looking around me, and then the panic struck me.

To my left there was something I instantly recognized. A one-way mirror. I could only see my reflection, but after years of experience as an interrogator for the police, I knew that it wasn’t your everyday mirror; someone was on the opposite side, probably observing me at this very moment. I attempted to stand up, however my body was like a blobfish. I must have been drugged. As I let that thought sink in, the doors slammed open.

I rapidly shifted my head towards the doors, and spotted a figure. I could feel my blood racing around in my body, my pulse was rapidly increasing. I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a gurgling noise. The figure, a man I now noticed, was coming closer, and I could see smaller details. Shining blue eyes, dark hair, a small scar on the forehead and a tattoo on his neck, picturing a bird. I was in deep panic, my mind coming up with thousands of possibilities of what could happen in the next five seconds. I could be told that I had a dangerous disease so they put me in this room to observe me, or he was working for some criminal that wanted revenge on me. No matter what would happen next, it probably wasn’t going to be good.

As the man was standing right above me, I was screaming and shaking; I was terrified. But he didn’t punch me, drug me, or tell me I was going to die of a terrible disease. Instead, he warmly greeted me and told me to call him Dr. Jones. This did not calm me down though; my heart was still running at full speed and my gut feeling was telling me not to trust him. At the same time, I also felt like sitting down and having a talk with him over a cup of coffee. He was the type of man who seemed loving and caring. I had so many questions pouring into my mind: what was I doing here? What is this place? Who are you? He noticed my confusion and told me not to worry. It would all be explained later.

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Everything's Twisted (Part 1)
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