My body feels heavy and I can faintly remember the sound of a gunshot.

  Opening my eyes, I panic and look at my surroundings.

  It takes some time for my body to respond as my eyelids are heavy and my body feels tired.

  …

  When they finally respond, everything is dark and blurry.

  I look for anything around me.

  But there is nothing

  Right at this moment I'm not laying down, I'm hanging.

  I can feel the weight of my body being sustained by something attached to my back.

  Slowly I try to move my arms.

  They feel heavy and unresponsive, but I push, muscles screaming, tendons trembling. When they finally shudder into motion, I drag a hand toward my back.

  My fingers brush against my skin and then plunge into something cold.

  Not skin, but metal. Thick, ridged tubes embedded straight into my spine.

  Where am I now?

  What have they done to me?

  Nothing feels right.

  I try using my hands to scrape the metal at my back desperately trying to detach the strange tubes holding me in place, but nothing seems to work.

  Just a few minutes at it, leaves me tired and out of breath.

  …

  It was a couple of seconds ago, but I can still remember waking up in the morgue, and I remember looking for help.

  I remember getting shot and the darkness that followed.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  But it felt so short. As if I had closed my eyes and opened them once more.

  I try to look at my surroundings once again, but it's too dark to make out where I am this time. The only source of light is a blinking white bulb close to me.

  1 Blip.

  2 Blip.

  3 Blip.

  It's hard getting used to the darkness with the weak blinking light but calming myself I wait for sometime until I can see better.

  …

  It blinks every 2 seconds.

  And from the short moment I can see it's attached to a metal console.

  1 Blip.

  2 Blip.

  3 Blip.

  I concentrate on the metallic surface and try to see anything else near it.

  4 Blip.

  5 Blip.

  6 Blip.

  And then I start to see it more clearly, a button.

  I'm not sure if it will get me out but it's better to try anything.

  Gathering as much strength as I can, I try to move my legs towards the button but they barely respond.

  As if the circulation of the blood had stopped moving to my legs due to being suspended for a long time.

  How long have I been here?

  With all the force I can muster, I grab onto the tubes embedded in my back and try once more to move my feet.

  Suddenly, a burning agony rips through my spine.

  The tubes stay rooted in place, but my body swings forward, tearing against them.

  The tension is excruciating, an anchor designed to hold me in this waking hell.

  I realize, with a sickening clarity, that this contraption was built to resist movement. Every attempt to swing my legs toward the console sends a fresh wave of torment through my back as my skin pulls, stretched to its limit, screaming as though it’s about to tear away from the cold metal fused to my flesh.

  Eventually, warmth seeps down my lower back. A slow, wet trickle that soaks my body. I can’t tell if it’s sweat or blood, maybe both.

  I need to get off this thing.

  I need to get out.

  …

  Breathing heavily, I can feel my sore, aching body begging for rest.

  Still, I try one more time.

  Swinging my legs back and forth, feeling the acute pain in my back, I reach with my feet towards the button.

  And then, in an instant, I feel it connect.

  I hear the machinery at my back working as it suddenly releases me, just as something is injected into my body.

  Landing on the cold concrete floor I can feel every part of my body ache.

  Even though I can still clearly feel the tiresome weight of my body, the release from the metallic tubes lessens the tearing pain in my spine.

  But I can't stop now.

  Through deep breaths I recover my senses and look at my surroundings.

  I must get out of here.