Undercurrent Haze

Prelude 1

"Th' infernal Serpent; he it was, whose guile
Stird up with Envy and Revenge, deceiv'd 
The Mother of Mankind, what time his Pride
Had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his Host
Of Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring
To set himself in Glory above his Peers,
He trusted to have equal'd the most High, 
If he oppos'd"

~John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book I

The golden sun rays threatened to seep in through my eyelids and make it even harder for me to adjust to the new day. I blinked several times to find myself in a place that in no sense provided even the minimal iota of the warmth of familiarity.

The bed where I was lying on was very uncomfortably warm only within the locus of where I lay, and if I was not wrong, I was provided with the thinnest mattress for a bed that was nothing but a hard cold metal box to me; not only that but also the fact the pillow where my head rested was raised to a bumpy manner my nape protruding in a way that almost made all my blood from the brain to be accumulated and made it impossibly heavy for me to do anything with it.

The smell was repelling but not nauseating. I tried to adjust to the surroundings I could imagine myself into without opening my eyes. My throat felt awfully dry and there was an inexplicable banging in my skull. Opening my eyes was difficult. I forced it open only to be blinded by the light and a sharp pain shot up my head while I winced in agony at this piercing sting.

This faint bit of consciousness and trying to deduce the whereabouts of my location extraordinarily exhausted me. Before I knew it, my breathing became erratic and I almost wanted to throw up my insides. I could feel a cold gush on my skin when the wind blew in and within seconds I was soaked in my own sweat. The loss of water made me even thirstier and the challenging twinge at certain points made it impossibly painful when I managed to shift a leg.

I tried to sustain my consciousness which seems to fade away. I could not process my train of thoughts that seem to be flashing before my eyes in snapshots but everything passes by in a haze. The situation was suffocating and frustrating that I could not get a grasp on the happenings around me. I lost the sense of being in the present and as if I was floating into oblivion and suspended into space by frail radio magnetic waves.

Soon, I was falling into a pit of darkness that seemed to have no end. I kept on falling into the infinite darkness without being able to come to a conclusive agreement onto where this is leading me and the process did not stop.

Honestly, there was just one thing I could fathom as the frail light of consciousness dimmed is the fact is that the fall never kills you, it is the landing that does.

She saw those hazel eyes. It was luring her to darkness and she knew it. The pair called themselves Death and she forgot that ever had a friend named Life. She knew it was unwise to follow what evidently directs her to her doom, but she was with gifted wings just to act against her better judgement. Before she knew it, a veil of darkness enveloped her and she heard a voice whispering to her.

She saw a flash of silver fly across her sight and wondered if it was a spark of any kind for she was blinded by the rage of the sun that she never bathed in the moonlight before. But tonight he saw the wings of a nightingale formed a silhouette in front of the moon and she dared to see the death that flashed across his eyes.

It was pitch black when he opened her eyes. She saw everything but in a haze. I deafening sound of static numbed her entire being and the sense of direction was lost. The centre of mass shifted from the alignment with the agreement and nature lost its equilibrium. Symmetrical once but distorted now was what she experienced when her breath ghosted in the ever constricting gyre. What it was, it is yet to be unveiled.

Something tasted oddly like metal in her mouth, the taste that was very familiar yet not something that is very pleasing. Something that was curiously trying to remind her of something but what she did not know. The sharp ache on the right side diminishes the sense of taste but on the contrary, she forgets that she could 'think' regardless of anything. Something very constraining binds her. Noting is linear anymore but instead something that absolutely engulfs her into that pit of darkness that knows no end without her knowledge.
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"Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well.Awake."~William Shakespeare

I perceived the tooting sound of machines around me, I knew there was shuffling going on around me and voices that spoke to each other none of which even though I heard, but could not figure out as to what they had been saying.

Something seemed to be extremely wrong with the situation I was in. I could not put a finger on either my state or the surroundings. The fact that I was unable to open my eyes even when I tried my best was not helping me with this situation at all. The machines produced a static and I found myself bizarrely responding and my eyelids flickered. The shuffling around me increased and the voices got a bit louder. One by one the words they uttered seemed to register...

"...increase the dose..."
"...tilt the left leg..."
"...steeper there..."
"...saline replacement..."
"...chloroform..."

This time I was not being pulled into darkness but on the contrary, darkness was enveloping me. I could not smell the place anymore, slowing the sounds faded and I felt at peace. The twitching in my eyelid stopped and I found my solace in the solidarity of the darkness until I could not seem to remember anymore.