Nonexistent

TWENTY-NINE- Rogue

MY fingertips reach towards my left arm as I satisfyingly scratch the tingling itch away. 

But my fingers meet a thin sliver of metal buried into my flesh. A needle.

The fluorescent light strains my eyes as I open them, and my hands automatically shield it from vision. I get up, propped up on my elbow as I examine my surroundings. 

The empty room has three normal walls, but it's the fourth wall that really stands out. It's a glassy wall to my left with an enormous window that stretches out from one end of the wall to the other. I can't see past the window, though. I only see my tired reflection, and I can't help wondering who's on the other side, watching me. 

I'm on what seems to be a lab table that someone tried to convert to a bed. The needle on my left arm is cold on my skin, and it connects a long tube filled with a mystery-silver substance to a machine. 

I look around and wait, expecting someone to come in and tell me what is going on now that I'm awake. But around five minutes pass, and everything is just as motionless. 

"Hello?" I call, staring straight at the one-way mirror. Nothing happens. 

I call out again. The one thing I hear is the slight and steady hum from what looks like a life-support-machine connected to my arm. 

Looking around one last time, I take the small tape off my arm and slip the needle out. I grip my arm and stand from the impromptu bed. My bare feet make contact with the cold tiled floor as I slowly make my way towards the wall to my right with a shelf stacked with vials. Chemicals and potions of all sorts are neatly lined up alphabetically. 

Suddenly, a small portion of the wall next to the shelf withdraws into a dim tunnel and a small man in a too-long lab coat emerges from the darkness. He doesn't look up from his clipboard or acknowledge me in any way. The secret door closes behind him as he approaches the table-bed I was on just a while ago.

His shoes click against the tiled floor until he gets to a chair fit for his height. He gets on and reaches under the chair and it slowly rises up to the bed.

I don't move, not knowing what to do.

"Take a seat." 

His voice is cold and stern. His accent is one I've never heard before. He's facing away, waiting for me patiently, and I know he's talking to me but it doesn't seem that way. 

I cautiously move onto the bed and sit. My legs dangle at the side of the table. 

"Uh," I start awkwardly. "Do you mind explaining what's going on? Where are my companions?"

"They're in the Resting Shelter." 

I nod my head, pretending to understand.