Darkness. An oppressive, unending darkness. Then, a faint hum. It vibrated through me, a low, constant thrumming that slowly pulsed with an insistent rhythm. It was the only point of reference in the void, the only sign that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't completely gone.
Then, a sliver of light. Not blinding, but a soft, cool glow that crept in from the edges of the darkness. It expanded slowly, revealing the blurry outline of a white ceiling. My vision swam, trying to focus, pieces flickering in and out of view.
Pain. A dull ache throbbed throughout my body, a constant, pulsing reminder of something… something terrible. Images flashed, fragmented and distorted – blinding light, searing heat, the metallic tang of blood. My own blood?
A voice, muffled and distant, cut through the haze. It spoke of wires, of tubes, of a machine keeping me alive. "He's coming around, Doctor."
