After an absurdly long break, here it is. As promised, Chapter One.
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Chapter 1: Comas Suck
"Ughh..." I moaned as I began to rouse from my sleep. "My head hurts."
"Hello, Mr..." I see a nurse standing at the foot of my bed. Hold on. A nurse? I glance at my right arm. There's a needle in my arm, with an IV attached to it. Why am I in the hospital?
"Now how do I pronounce your name? Mister...ape-EL-dapp?" The nurse's brow was wrinkled as she struggled to pronounce my name.
"It's apple-DEE-app, ma'am." I looked at the nurse. To say that she was beautiful was simply an understatement. "And you are..?"
"Oh, yes! My name is Aggs," she replied.
"So why am I here, Aggs?" I asked her.
"Well, let's see." She paused for a moment. Aggs pulled out a clipboard lodged in a slot on the foot of my bed. "It seems that you have sustained a mild concussion due to head trauma, specifically being slammed on the head by your front door. But you'll be out within a few days."
As soon as she finished speaking, a cylindrical shaped robot hovered right into the room.
"Hey, Aggs, honey! I love ya, sweetie!" it bleeped.
"Beat it, R2!" Aggs hissed. "I ain't your wife."
The robot slowly backed away into the doorway. "I'll just wait here until you're done tending with your patients."
Aggs turned towards me, all red-faced. "You'll have to excuse me for a sec. I have to, um, take care of this, er, robot problem. The doctor should be in soon!" She turned around, faced the robot, and drew what appeared to be a flashlight.
"NOOOOOO! Not the OffSwitch!" the robot shrieked as it hovered out of the room.
"I'll get you this time, R2!" Aggs panted, running after the robot.
I lay my head back into bed, intending on sleeping until the doctor showed up.
"Psst, buddy," a voice whispered. I turned my head to see what it was. It was another patient. "What're you in for?"
"Concussion," I replied. "Why are you whispering?"
"I lost my voice in the battle of Tacihsus. Also, my left leg."
"Wait, so you're a soldier?" I asked. "And there was a battle? Is there a war going on?"
"Boy, where have you been? Under a rock?" The man sneered.
"Actually, I believe it was a coma."
"Coma, rock. Potato, Po-TA-to, same thing!" The man sat up in bed and faced me. "The name's Joe Schmo, by the way. Corporal of 23rd Batallion, Armorian Army. Let me fill you in on some details you may have missed. Oh, and you may have to lean in a bit, cause my voice, y'know?"
I sat up in bed and faced him.
"A'right, here's what happened. About three, no, four months ago, 50 Kong Guerillas crossed into Armorian soil and took over Mmosa. Sadly, many people died. In response, King Daniel deployed 250 troops into Tachisus, myself included, to prevent those Kongeroos from taking another city and to take back Mmosa. Then, out of the blue, WHOOSH!” Joe thrust his hand down in a swooping motion, “four unmarked cargo jets flew in. Four hundred Kong Troopers jumped out of the planes,” He paused. “Then they started shooting. And, I...I was one of the few left.”
Joe remained quiet for a while. Another nurse then walked in, thus breaking the silence.
“Here you are, Joe,” the nurse chirped. “Your favorite. Bangers ‘n’ mash. Dig in!”
“Gee, thanks, Dolores!” he said. He looked back to me. “Her name’s not really Dolores, y’know.” Joe took the whole plate, brought it up to his chest, and thrust his face in, eating like a dog.
I gave him a puzzled look. “Did you also suffer a concussion? Cause you seem…” Joe looked up, mashed potatoes and brown gravy dripping from his cheeks and mouth, “...off?”
“What?” he growled. I like to make jokes.”
I shrugged. “Anyway, thanks for telling me your story.”
“Mmfph,” he mumbled through the plate.
Feeling drowsy, I sunk back into bed, waiting for the doctor to come take a look at myself. To pass time, I decided to look around my bed. I looked up. Over my head hung several transparent plastic bags, only one of which was filled with a clear, viscous fluid. An IV line was attached to the bottom of the bag, which let the fluid flow down, down, down, into my arm, into my bloodstream, which would mingle with my blood, flow together as one, circulate my body, again and again, until…
“Alert! Alert!” The intercom suddenly came to life with a near deafening roar. “Spamling horde! All personnel report to your respective battle stations. This is not a drill! I repeat, not a drill!”