Coming Soon: Book 2 of the Assassins of History Series
Creators of Chaos
I slowly faded into consciousness, hearing someone moaning loudly. It took a minute to realize that I was the one who was moaning.
I could hardly take a deep breath without the right side of my rib cage aching. It was akin to the pain of pleurisy, except it was more excruciating, if that were possible.
Gingerly, feeling the source of the ache in my chest with a right hand that felt like it weighed a ton, I noticed that some type of tape was securely wrapped around my torso.
Gradually, my eyes focused on the immediate surroundings. A dim light illuminated what seemed to be a room that suggested a hospital environment. It wasn’t so much the appearance of the room, but the sterile medical facilities’ smell that formed the basis of this deduction.
I was lying on a flat platform about three feet high that resembled a funeral pyre. Looking down at my left arm, I realized my forearm was pierced with three needles that were distributing liquids intravenously from a machine located next to my place of repose.
As an afterthought it seemed faintly amusing that the liquids were colored red, white and blue.
Blinking profusely for more short-sighted vision, I viewed a phenomenon. My right forearm had a two inch vertical incision that was healing without any scar tissue before my very eyes. I recoiled at this medical miracle, which elicited pain from my chest cavity. However, this time the pain was quickly replaced with a sense of elation, and I embraced what must have been a drug induced stupor.