11 - Just a lab rat, needed for the cure.

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"I...already...do." The words echoed through my mind as white pain shot through me, even though his teeth had not yet pierced me. My back arched and I cried out, fighting against the pain. I could feel my fingers and toes curling up, their color changing to a dark black in the process. My nails burned, and it felt like someone had taken a pair of pliers and ripped them out, all at once.

"Aah! Stop it! Stop it!" I flailed my arms, but he still hadn't bitten me yet. I backed up into a tree and pressed myself against it, convulsing slightly from the jolts of pain. "Why didn't you just kill me? Why drag it out, you bastard?"

"You were dying."

"Yeah? Well, this isn't much better!"

"You're not dying now. Not anymore." The wolf twitched his ears, his eyes fixating on my own.

"I am! You did this to me! You infected me! You killed me! YOU SAID I WOULDN'T SURVIVE!"

"You are not dying."

My eyes opened, and I was back in my hospital room, my heart rate monitor beeping furiously. I reached over and pulled the heart monitor clip off of my index finger, and the monitor let out a long screech before falling silent. My vision was a ghostly white around the edges; I blinked my eyes and focused, willing the whiteness out of my eyes.

You are not dying.

His words raced through mind. What do you mean? I want to know! 

I stood up beside my bed and took hold of the long I.V. pole and began walking, the pole rolling along with me on four small wheels. I entered the bathroom and splashed water on my face, waking me up completely. The dark circles beneath my eyes had faded to a dull grey, and the edges of my eyelids were still colored a glossy black.

What was happening to me?  The dream, like all the others, had seemed so real to me. I couldn't make sense of it though; not this time around. Why had I felt like my body was being crushed inside itself?

I walked out of the bathroom and out of my hospital room altogether, stepping cautiously into a hallway. I looked left and right, seeing no one. I turned to the right and began walking down the hallway, passing rows and rows of rooms, their doors all open. The stench of antiseptic chemicals burned my nose, and I scrunched my face up and continued walking, not knowing exactly where I was headed. As I moved, my heels didn't touch the floor once; I couldn't straighten my feet no matter how hard I tried. Only my toes and the palms of my feet made contact with the ground. The I.V. pole trailed beside me, its wheels squeaking quietly as I walked.

I reached the end of the hall and turned a corner, pushing through a large pair of double doors. A clock mounted onto the wall read 1:07 a.m. Middle of the night. Sweet. I walked past a small reception cubicle, noting that no one occupied it. Way past visiting hours anyway, I suppose. The hallway opened up into a much larger corridor, with the central triage desk on the right. I paused at the entrance, not wanting to be seen and whisked away back to my room. I really had no business sneaking around, but I needed to get out of that room, if only for a few minutes.

To my right, a single door lay open. I looked at the nurse sitting in behind the triage desk, her head buried in a book. The surrounding waiting room was completely empty. All quiet on the Western front. Okay. I took a breath, and silently darted through the open door, carrying my I.V. pole along with me. The room on the other side had several rows of chairs laid out in front of a small podium. A single computer kiosk lay in the far corner of the room. I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight.

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