Through the Dragon's Eyes

Chapter Ten || Lacrimae Inferni

Surprisingly, you were left alone for the rest of the day. Moira seemed mostly engaged with notes and other tests, all while remaining in the same room or being just a wall away in her office, passing occasional, unblinking glances to you through the glass window. You are allowed to move around, but were instructed not to touch anything. She made that painfully clear.

Not that there's much to mess with, anyhow. All documentation is locked in her office, tools put away and tables rolled against the back wall, all of which she had moved around and organized throughout the first few hours after Reaper left. All that remains is your bed, you, and the other beds with curtains drawn despite their vacancy.

Since you have nothing to keep you occupied, you've subconsciously taken to pacing with your arms crossed. You aren't allowed to leave, either. The plain white room, the locked door and removal of all other items within makes you feel like you're in a psych ward. Like you're a threat outside of your normal levels.

The clock upon the wall above the door ticks on, each second passing with a click or clack. You decide to lie down on your back with one leg off the side for a while.

Finally, once the hour has slipped past eight and the minute closes in on the halfway mark, Moira emerges from her office and walks over.

"I will assess your wound again." She says.

She didn't even ask permission, yet she's standing there expecting you to obey. You silently sit up, carefully eyeing her with your brows drawn as you slide the sleeves of your top off your shoulders, exposing your upper torso. She raises her eyebrows with a satisfied hum. The scarring is almost entirely gone now.

"Splendid." She says.

She then looks the rest of you over for a long few moments before turning and heading back into her office. She re-emerges with a folder of documents before closing and locking it with a code. As she begins to walk back to the entry door, she doesn't even look at you as she speaks.

"You'll stay here for monitoring until morning. Good night, agent."

You quickly stand as she begins to exit.

"Wait-!"

Your voice hits the door as it closes and the lock clicks behind her. You growl in annoyance. Monitor you? She just left. What kind of medical monitoring requires there to be no one with you?

With how you've been treated, you can easily concur that she knows something you don't. She's kept you isolated ever since the crash. She wouldn't explain what that IV was. It's obvious she's up to something. She speaks straightforwardly yet so blank, acting like she isn't hiding anything from anyone.

Sliding your shirt back up, you don't bother folding it shut. You sit back on your bed, removing your boots and belt, sitting with your legs crossed, back against the wall. You meditate for a while before just deciding to lie down. Closing your eyes, you try to let sleep take over.

You hope once you awake, this will all be over.

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Your vision opens to darkness.

The lights must've turned off not long after you had faded, save for one, its dim glow highlighting the door in a foreboding spotlight. You tiredly push yourself onto one elbow, looking around the room.

You're still alone.

You slide out of bed, shuffling across the linoleum floor to the door. It's still locked. Your fatigue weighs heavy, beckoning you to return to unconsciousness. But you can't.