Grimm Games

Chapter 16: Vitals and Vials

The rough texture of the tree bark pressed against my back as I rested in the sitting position, but then it transformed into something cold and unyielding, like smooth concrete or a steel table as I lay flat against it.

My eyes snapped open, replacing the image of the apple-filled forest floor with the stark, blinding whiteness of the room's walls. The room's sterile and unnatural environment was an abrupt difference to the cursed woods I had become accustomed to.

My head throbbed, and a haze of confusion enveloped me. Was this a dream? The rotten egg stench had vanished, leaving only an unnerving silence.

Grogginess washed over me like a crashing wave, prompting me to close my eyes once more. The pungent scent of fermented apples, in various stages of decomposition, intensified in my nostrils.

Disoriented, I tried to make sense of my surroundings, but it was as if I existed in two places at once, or perhaps somewhere in between. My body retained vivid memories of the cursed woods, but I also began to sense the unmistakable signs of this unfamiliar environment, which I now believed to be real.

As I lay there, gathering the strength to open my eyes or even turn my head, my ears provided more information than any of my other senses.

The sound of a pair of heavy footsteps marching along the solid ground toward me perked my ears.

In my mind, I could still picture the four figures in protective suits carrying the lifeless body of the Witch away in the noxious fog. However, in the cold, sterile room I now found myself in, I was certain that I was nowhere near a forest or fog.

Where was I?

A strange conversation unfolded around me, and it was all I needed to understand the ugly reality. Two unknown male voices discussed something related to blood and measurements.

"Completed vitals?" The male's voice came from about ten feet away. "How many vials did you take?"

"Brigette wanted the usual, a complete blood count and RH factor," another male answered. His voice was straightforward, unbothered, clearer, and louder. He was closer to me, right beside me, making me feel as if the room we were in swallowed us in its substantial space.

"So, two?" the first male confirmed. "Labeled, secure?"

"Yes, sir."

I listened intently while lying there, pretending to be unconscious. My eyes remained closed, and I kept as still as my body would allow. I considered holding my breath to stay motionless, but I thought better of it. I couldn't move even if I wanted to. The dead weight in my body and limbs acted as my prison, so I absorbed as much information as I could to make sense of what was happening.

The crisp chill in the air reminded me of filtered air conditioning, a stark contrast to the dank mugginess of the woods.

All my senses were engaged, yet I remained unable to move.

"Where's the aeroblade?" The first guy asked, a tinge of frustration in his tone. "You have to return it to her arm."

"Brigette talked so much shit about her using that thing so well that the woman thinks it might become an upcoming problem in the Games. So, I removed it, plus how else was I supposed to get a proper read of her blood pressure and vitals?"

"You've been in show business for how long, man?" the guy asked rhetorically. "You know there's such a thing as film continuity. If she goes back out to the live games without the aeroblade on her arm, viewers will question it. I mean, it's a memorable weapon. The last thing we need is an uproar and Brigette up our asses about more dropped sponsors and diminishing viewership."