One Story Three Tones:
Version One:
The white light shined overhead. Confused murmurs slowly filled the silence as I woke up, shielding my eyes from the light I tried sitting up.
“Where am I?” My voice hoarsely fills the air. No one seems to hear me.
I try sitting up again only to see the shackles connecting me to the hospital bed. After my eyes adjust to the light, I look around a little more. The room is lit by the overhead lamp and an array of monitors keeping track of my vitals. To my left, I notice a boarded-up window with fresh claw marks disturbing the cobwebs. A dried trail of blood leads my eyes to a small group of doctors with blood on their lab coats hunched over a computer monitor in the corner.
“Where am I?” I managed to say a little louder this time.
The murmurs stop for a few seconds. I pull at the shackles to get their attention but the doctors continue to ignore me. As I pull the monitor next to me speeds up and I fall against the bed exhausted.
Hours pass and the murmurs stop. A doctor with peppered hair pulls out a tape recorder.
“Day thirty-eight, the patient awoke again. The experiment is almost complete. Preparing to deliver the full dosage of medication. The patient will join the rest within the week.” The peppered hair doctor turns around, his face contorted with scars.
“Don’t worry 502 soon you’ll join the rest. You’ll fit right in soon enough. Good night little pet.” He strokes my hair as another doctor with a fresh wound over his eye adjusts a bag containing a purple liquid on one of the monitors. The machines speed up again and the world goes black.
Version Two:
A bright light shines overhead as my eyes adjust to the setting sun. The song of birds fills the air as I sit up.
“Where am I?” I ask not seeing anyone else.
Standing the breeze brushes my skin as it causes the grass to dance. To my left, I see a clear stream giving life to a variety of daisies and tulips. A butterfly takes off from a nearby tulip and guides my view to the right where I see a stranger sitting near a rock with a bird perched on the top. Stepping a little closer I notice the stranger is talking to the bird as he would a normal human.
“Where am I?” I call out. Their conversation stops for a moment only to resume a few moments later as if nothing happened.
I twirl in the field of flowers and fall back into the soft grass. Grabbing some of the nearby daisies I braid them into a crown and place it on my head before closing my eyes to enjoy the last rays of sun warming my skin.
Moments pass before I hear footsteps approach. I open my eyes to see the stranger on the rock standing over me. His kind face smiles at me as he offers me a hand. I take it as my self-made crown falls and I notice his pointed ears and navy hair.
An enchanted air surrounds us as he calls to the bird he had been talking to earlier.
“Let the duke know the maiden has awakened. She seems a little confused but will be guided safely back to the fortress. We will arrive within the week.” The bird chirps once and flies off.
“Don’t worry we’ll join the rest soon. Everyone will love you. We’ll begin traveling in the morning and I’ll answer any questions you have then. We’ll get you back home within the week” The stranger guides me over to a nearby grove where two beds of intertwined willow branches. I lay in one finding more comfortable than anything I can remember and allow myself to fall into the darkness of the night.
Version Three:
The bright light overhead blinds me as I slowly wake up. Concerned whispers fill my ears as I try to sit up.
“Where am I?” I ask, but no one seems to hear me.
I try sitting up again only to fall against the pillow. After catching my breath, I look around the hospital room. To my left is the steady beep of complex monitors, the lines for my heart rate far apart. The afternoon rays from the nearby window guide my gaze to the right. I see my family huddled in the corner, their faces red.
The whispers continue as the doctor delivers some sort of news.
“Where am I?” I ask, my voice barely audible. A gasp escapes from my mother's mouth. Feeling strained I relax against the hospital bed and stare at the ceiling.
As the clock ticks, I hear the monitors slow as my breath becomes more labored. My family members gather around my bed. Tears falling down their faces, I’m still unsure what happened.
“It’s a miracle your daughter woke,” the doctor said his voice filled with awe, “it’ll make saying goodbye easier.” He calls over a nurse to look at one of the machines.
As the nurse checks a clear liquid my family's voices become more muffled. I try saying something to them, but no sound comes out.
“I’m afraid she won’t last the week,” the doctor’s voice comes through. Sobs fill my ears as I fall back into darkness.
