(POV: Unknown Person)
A pitch-dark room. You can't see anything.
That is, except, a small flicker of light from some kind of machine. Silhouettes of cloaked figures rush around you, speaking a language you don't understand.
Memories start to flicker back. You were a singer. You can't quite remember your own name, but you do realize that you're missing most of your body.
You try to remember your name. M... Milo? Michael? You just can't.
The machine suddenly jumps to life. You see jars of what looks like organs suspended in some kind of gel. It sickens you. Wires and tubes are connected to various parts of what's left of your body; bones.
A hooded figure begins to sew a muscle onto your femur. You can hear the voices now, and they're... singing? They stare directly into your eyes, but you still don't know what language they're speaking.
They're great singers, though. You want to compliment their voices, but you can't open your mouth.
Hours go on. They kept singing, and the hooded figure kept to their work of rebuilding you. Most of your body is there now, but the figure is confused over the placement of a few organs. Your heart sits in its hand, and it seems to have trouble differentiating between left and right.
You move your eyes to the left of your chest, and the figure gives you a thumbs up. It finishes up, and sews together your skin.
Various tubes begin pumping blood into your body, and a wire connected to your heart simulates a pulse. The figures cheer as your pulse rises to a solid 70.
From their reaction you can tell that they've been trying and planning this for a long time.
They detach the tubes and wires, and your heart stays beating. There are no breaks in the skin. The machine shuts down. They attach some kind of router to your wrist, and then leave. The light on it glows a soft yellow.
You presume that it sends your vitals to some kind of computer. Hours pass, and eventually you begin to move. The light starts glowing green. You still can't speak, but you're out of bed, and moving around.
You find a light switch. When it turns on, you aren't surprised by what you see. You're inside of some kind of storage unit. The machine next to your bed is surprisingly small.
The door to the storage unit opens. It's the cloaked figure from before. It comes to greet you.
You don't understand.
Maybe tomorrow you will.
YOU ARE READING
Something About a Phone
FanfictionSpirit Phone, retold. "have a favorite album? write a book!" - nobody ever But seriously, I finished writing this in two hours and should take about 2 minutes to read if you're me (I read fast so idk how long it's gonna take you) Go listen to Ivanus...
