A day after you fully regained consciousness, you managed to find out how many days you've been out for. The answer... five. The warm embrace of darkness had held you in various degrees of completeness for five full days. That strange man, The Receptionist as he had called himself, had said in a weeks time so that meant you had two more days. That is, if he is to be trusted, if he was even real or just some near death hallucination that your foggy and blood deprived brain had conjured, The vividness of the dream worries you but you just keep reassuring yourself that he doesn't exist. That you won't have to play some mystery game that is sadistic with the possibility of forever losing yourself and your consciousness.
You shake your head, banishing the thought of that strange and disturbing 'receptionist' that may or may not hold your life in their hands. The soft familiar footsteps come tap, tap, tapping down the hall, the door creaking softly as Dr. Kai enters with his clip board and pen, "the police want to speak to you," he says flatly, adjusting one of the many tubes that is connecting you to drips and machines. You nod simply, neck flexing with earnestness, muscles bulging minimally as it flexes up and down. The doctor looks up, harsh and handsome angular face baring into yours with gentle violent intensity, "I'll send them in once I've taken more data," Dr. Kai says simply, jotting down more notes from the numbers on the machines that you don't understand.
"Why do you seem worried?" You manage, throat constricting painfully from the effort of talking for the first time in days. Dr. Kai glances up at you in surprise then his face falls into a grin. The previous intense stare gone, "Well look who's talking!" He says eyes closing slightly, "You see by these results you should be dead. Your heart rates all over the place; it's either barely a whisper or a fast prideful cry. And your lungs are barely absorbing any oxygen. Honestly you're a medical miracle." Dr. Kai heaps on the praises. The world suddenly feels slightly colder as he answers you. The soft tone of his voice frayed slightly at the edges, like a deranged animal that has calmed for a moment before they engage in combat. His face looks creepier with that smile, more controlling and obsessed like some devil who has found their favorite worshiper. Like a stalker who finally manages to abduct their target without being caught by law enforcement. A strange light dances in the doctors eyes, like a child wanting to rip the wings off of an insect and observe how it survives.
Dr. Kai simply continues scribbling more information, that light gleaming in his eyes as he works, their hands working in quick, disturbing efficiency as he marvels at your machine. His obsession is apparent, his intent unclear and his mind possibly damaged. He seems crazy to you, or at very least crazy enough to do something drastic like experiment on you.
There's a knock, confidant and loud. Four fast thumps that slice through the uncomfortable machine filled air like a hot knife through half melted butter. The noise glides melodiously to your ears. It means visitors or interview. To be honest anything is better than being alone with this disturbing, handsome (psycho) doctor. Anything at all would feel like a huge reprieve from the stress and fear filled air that Dr. Kai had somehow managed to inject without uttering anything disturbing. The air had been set by his tone, which shows the power his words have on you and simultaneously makes you feel small and vulnerable.
The knocking continues; thump, thump thump. Firm and reassuring, banishing the stale, uncomfortable air of Dr. Kai. Making you feel safer. "Come in," you say quickly, voice scratchy and nervous, half because you haven't quite recovered your voice and half because of the air Dr. Kai had instilled in the room.
The door creaks open more audibly than when the doctors and nurses enter, and the people who enter definitely aren't doctors or nurses. They wear a deep blue with black highlights, a bright yellow high vis jacket is worn over the bulky blue shirt. A radio juts out of their front pockets, a long black baton is looped through their belt. Their other pockets bulge with unseen items. Probably more gear like pepper spray and handcuffs, since their chest is adorned with a golden badge. The badge has the police emblem at its canter. The officers have their signature headgear under their arms, the black and blue fabric crumpled between the flesh of their arm and body.
There is two of them, one women, one man. The man is tall and muscular, like a body builder who has fallen off their diet since he doesn't have the muscle definition despite the seemingly tight blue uniform hugging his arms and chest. The man has a rough face with mottled red spots spattered across his face, acne scars. He isn't exactly ugly but he wasn't winning any beauty pageants anytime soon. His face was angular in ways that made his face look more thuggish than handsome. He is bald with thick bushy eyebrows which hide most of his pale green eyes.
The girl was also tall, with large breasts that push against her uniform. The fabric looks slightly strained and stretched. Her ass also juts out in a gentle bubble that would ordinarily have turned you on. But due to meeting Akane, this officer doesn't tickle your fancy in that way. Her eyes are muddy brown with orange flecks, and her hair is up in a bun like the headmistresses you see in older TV shows. Her face is pretty but not sexy, not arousing in the way Akane's is.
"Hello, Karmen sorry for disturbing you, but could tell us what happened the night you were stabbed?" The man says, his voice surprisingly gentle and soft like a whisper. The girl steps forward, breasts swaying slightly, "yeah anything you remember sweety?" She adds, her voice is thick and syrupy like an adult movie narrator.