From a cold steam-filled chamber, I opened my eyes with the feeling I’d just woken up from a long dream. I had the sensation of being ferried across the room to another undisclosed location I was barely visibly aware of.
I tried to mumble out, “What’s going on?”, but all that came out was an inaudible moan.
“Try not to overexert yourself too much. You’ve been in artificial hibernation for a long time, and are only just beginning to regain control over your motor functions.”
I later learned what I’d heard, but at the time, it registered as little more than a slushy sound barely audible to my ears.
By the time I acquired some basic motor skills, I was better able to better understand my surroundings. It looked like a typical hospital room with the basic requirements for emergency procedures and little else. The lack of tubing in my face or arms suggested I wasn’t in any danger of dying anytime soon.
I drifted in and out of consciousness, trying to force myself to stay awake at longer intervals. Eventually, I managed to catch sight of someone checking up on me before leaving me.
“How long was I asleep?”
“A long time.”
“C’mon, tell me what year it is. I can take it. Round up.”
My only answer was an injection to “relax the ol’ mental bones”, and confirmation to shuffle me off to the “English wing.”, whatever that meant.
As my eyes began to come into focus, I caught occasional glimpses of a reoccurring Wanted poster on the wall opposite from me. But it wasn't like any poster I'd ever seen. I could barely make out who the criminal was. It wasn't until I was moved around to test my other functioning body parts that I understood why. There was no reward money, the figure was a black featureless silhouette, and the sign said, “WANTED: Dead & Alive.”
“...you...”
Eventually, I managed to catch a reflection of myself in the mirror. I didn’t look that much different from how I remembered. Though I was dismayed at how little weight I’d lost around my stomach area. You’d think that being asleep for as long as I had, I’d at least stand to lose a few pounds.
I tried to ask questions, but they were brushed aside in favor of more conventional follow-up questions of how I was feeling, whether my blood was flowing in the right direction, if my bones were still fused together, and if I had any compulsions to devour & maim anybody. The attention was nice, but a little overwhelming and overbearing sometimes. Eventually, I got vague and evasive answers to my insistent questions.
“So, this is the future, huh? Looks a lot like the present.”
“Don’t be fooled - this is just a holding cell until you can join the rest of the inner populace. It’ll take you awhile before you get acclimated with the larger outside world. You’ve been in stasis for a long time, and the current climate would overwhelm your senses.”
Even though I could still walk by this point, it was still insisted that I be wheeled out to my next destination. Along the way, we exited through a sliding door.
“Cool! Just like Star Trek!”
“Yes, because motion detector doors in front of shopping centers never existed back then.”
“Good to know sarcasm hasn’t died out either.”
My room was a simplistic rectangular bin with sparse furnishing, a single bed, a garbage can, a sink, no toilet, and no place to keep anything other than my clothes. Clothes that were uncomfortable, stiff and scratchy. I took a quick peek at my neighbor’s rooms - they were carbon copies of mine, down to the molecule. Some tried for variety by putting posters up, but the adhesive either wasn’t very sticky or the walls wouldn’t keep them up, since they kept sliding down.
Then I noticed something that was missing.
“Excuse me, where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh, we don’t have one.”

I gaped at this piece of knowledge. “Well then, where do we - ”
“Just empty the bladder in your pocket when you’re done.”
I was confused at this phrasing, until the nurse pointed at my upper coat pocket. Reaching inside, I found a tube that’d been attached to my privates, ending in a single plastic container full of yellow fluid. I didn’t bother looking in my left pocket, even though I knew I’d have to find it sooner or later. You’d think they would’ve revealed this knowledge early on.
I was better off staying in the medical clinic.
“...wrong...”
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