Gunfire. Gunfire still rang through his ears. Echoing in the auditory processing center of his brain. Dissonant. Incomprehensible. Silence. Then a sickening sound. The sound of growth. A kind of slithery, wet sound. Then an arrhythmic dull pounding.

Pain. Heat. Pressure. Returning slowly as nerve endings knitted together. Flashes of motor impulses as millions of tiny threads connected. Disjointed waves of tingling sensation as the millions of disconnected receptors finally reported back.

He opened his eyes only to feel another flash of pain as bright light seared its way through his retinas. He squeezed them shut, returning to the darkness.

None of it made sense. Yet.

His chest hurt. No. His lungs. The first feeling to crystallize from the chaos. Then came the pounding of his heart.

He drew a shuddering, wheezing breath, and something solid caught in his throat. A violent spasm sent him coughing up a mix of solid and liquid matter that stank of blood and worse. It kept coming back down so he rolled onto his side to expel it. And fell.

A short, slow fall.

Sirius landed on cold tile, promptly threw up, then curled into a ball as the pain in his lungs subsided. His once-shuddering breaths evened out into longer and longer breaths. His lungs burned, like he’d been breathing bad air for hours. He felt weak, tired, and slightly feverish, but otherwise alive. How?

I’m not done with you yet, Orion’s familiar voice cut through his confusion like a scalpel through flesh sending a shiver of dread into his stomach.

Sirius opened his eyes. The light was still blinding, but this time he held up a hand against it. The disparate shapes and colors resolved into details. Grimy grey tiles on the floor and walls. Stainless steel counters, and a long table in the center of the room that he had just fallen from.

The grey was only broken by the dark red of the blood around him. So much blood.

“Wh-What the fuck?” A voice half-whispered.

Sirius froze. Someone was here. Someone had seen. Very carefully, he turned to the source of the voice.

A young woman, scrubbed in, dark hair tied back. Her face was pallid, and her large dark eyes were darting about the room in abject horror. She had backed into a corner, a scalpel gripped tightly in her trembling hands. She kept staring at Sirius, then glancing off somewhere beyond him.

“I’m uhh…I’m gonna get up”, Sirius announced as he slowly pushed himself off the ground into a sitting position. They’d taken his clothes and he felt a bit absurd, sitting there, naked, covered in blood. In response, the woman shrank back further and raised the scalpel in his direction. They stared at each other in silence.

“Look, I’ve got someplace to be, so I’m just going to stand up”, Sirius said as he started to get up.

The woman brandished the scalpel with an anxious cry.

“That’s fine, as slow as you like, then. And then I leave, yeah?” Sirius offered. He continued to find his feet. Why did she keep looking past him?

The answer came in the form of a sharp blow to the back of his head that sent him back down into the tiles. Instinct took over and he scrambled to find his feet again and turned to face his attacker.

He got the briefest glimpse of a face before a fist came his way and he dodged. Or, at least tried to. The blood had made the tiles slick and he only just managed to dodge the blow as his feet lost purchase. He reached out blindly for something to arrest his fall.

“Not today, you zombie motherfucker!” another voice, more confident than the other shouted.

Sirius felt someone grab him by the back of the head then his vision flashed white as they drove him face first into a table.

An unpleasant crunch and stinging, blinding tears in his eyes. Blood filled his mouth and he spat, feeling what suspiciously felt like shards of teeth going with it. The grip released and he turned to throw a dazed punch, only to be pushed back, a cold, sharp blade pressed to his throat.

A face swam into view between the tears. A woman glared down at him. She was tall and powerful. Built like a soldier. Built like someone from Earth.

“I ain’t no fuckin’ zombie”, he gasped out.

“You sure look like one to me, Spacer”, she spat out at him, “You have two seconds to start explaining before I start dissecting you right here, right now”.

Sirius opened his mouth, but he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, so he instead smiled bloodily at her. “Go ahead. Try it, Earther” he growled through his shuddering breaths.

The woman’s face twisted into a snarl, “I’ll fucking gut you, you”-

“Stop”.

The smaller woman had come out of her hiding place.

“What did you say?” the one with the knife asked.

“Just stop. Please. I- I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to see anyone get hurt”, the smaller one begged tearfully, “Obviously, whoever put him in here made a mistake. It happens. I can’t just sit here and watch you kill a guy who isn’t supposed to be here. I- I’m a doctor for fuck’s sake”.

His assailant glanced back at him, “Just a mistake, huh? Sure. Fine”. She stepped back, withdrawing her knife. She might’ve said it was fine, but her face told another story.

“Thanks”, Sirius nodded to the doctor as he slowly moved away from the woman with the knife. He wasn’t going to feel safe until he was out of arm’s reach. “Doc’s right, you know. I’m not supposed to be here. Too much of the good shit, you know. Must’ve looked kinda dead, heh, don’t do drugs, kids”.

The doctor looked unconvinced, then forced a smile, “We should probably get you some medical attention, then. Miss Alexander, could you keep an eye on him while I grab some supplies?”

The woman with the knife, the so-called ‘Miss Alexander’ frowned but nodded. The doctor practically dashed out of the room in response.

“The name’s Jaliss, goddammit”, the woman muttered under her breath. A ringtone sounded. Jaliss started, then turned to shoot a glare at Sirius.

“Don’t go anywhere”, she warned then stalked out of the room.

Finally alone again, Sirius collapsed back into the table with a heavy sigh. His nose throbbed with pain, and he was definitely missing parts of some teeth. He spat more blood out and shivered in the cold room. Maybe he could find his clothes here? Where would they have put them?

Sirius paced the room, testing the cabinets. Several were locked, and those that slid open contained a smattering of office supplies and what he could only guess were medical instruments and equipment. No clothes.

He continued around the room’s various containers until finally, a wall locker swung open to reveal a stack of clothing each individually sealed in their own plastic bags. He filed through the stack, looking for anything familiar, or at the very least appropriately sized and not blood-soaked. There was a shirt, some pants, mostly dirty, but at least they’d be something. He tore the bags open and threw on the clothes before searching farther.

Deeper in the locker Sirius found a ratty old aviator jacket. He pulled it out of its plastic covering and tried it on for size. Way too big, but it was warm, and it covered up the tattered shirt. He stuffed his hands into the pockets and his fingers grasped something sleek and rectangular in the left pocket. He pulled it out to get a better look.

It was a flat, grey-and-black rectangular device that flicked on when he faced the screen upwards. Like a mini datapad. The screen had a constellation of cracks, but he could read what was being displayed well enough. He’d seen things like this before, rich people had them. Now he had one too. He slipped it back into his pocket as soon as he heard the door cycle open. Jaliss walked in.

She glanced at him and narrowed her eyes but refused to pass comment, instead choosing to post herself by the door. Sirius tidied up the closet and only just closed it in time to hear the door cycle again. The doctor had returned.

“Where did you find those? Did you get into the evidence locker? What else did you steal?” she accused.

Sirius glared daggers at her. Staring straight into her eyes, he took his nose in his hands and with a painful crunching wrench reset it as she watched in horror. He doubled over in pain and blinding tears, but recovered himself, then strode towards the door.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” The doctor stepped in front of him, blocking the door with her body, “This is absolutely uncalled for! I’ll call the police!”

“Yeah? So? What do you think they’ll do? Send me back here again?” Sirius challenged, “I’m leaving. I don’t care who or what you call”. He could feel Jaliss’ eyes follow him as he pushed the doctor aside and left. He didn’t care.

Through a long hallway, then a waiting room full of dejected and anxious people, then finally to a door that led out. Just outside, he could see the recognizable figure of Dr. K. She was sitting alone on a bench, shoulders drooped much like the people assembled inside the morgue’s waiting room. He briefly considered disappearing, just taking one of the side streets away. She’d never find him. Not in a million years. But something kept him anchored. Something in the back of his consciousness. She deserved answers. At least some sort of apology, right?

He approached her, she was lost in thought, her eyes distant, seeing something that wasn’t there, tear tracks glistening in the harsh overhead lighting.

Sirius stopped just in front of her.

“Hey, doc” he said.