@bitheach // ♥
DESPITE NO LONGER BEING LOCKED IN A ROOM, SIGMA isn’t sure if he’s actually safe now. Between the damage the facility has already inflicted upon the poor man, and the shell-shock of being forcefully removed from it, he hasn’t had any real time to try and grasp his fractured thoughts.
He’s no longer cuffed-- no longer strapped down, muzzled-- but he lies very still, straining his ears as wide, lavender eyes anxiously dart around his room, trying to listen for people, anyone at all that may come across him. His worst fear at the moment would have to be finding out that they simply... moved him into another room.
But considering his lack of restraint....
The door opens abruptly-- slow, but in the lack of commotion, it’s just too loud. SIGMA jumps, uncertain of what he’s going to see when it opens. But instead of the faceless doctors that picked and probed his brain, he sees a woman enter. Despite his apprehension, there’s no blinding white coat, no tools or drugs in her hands that he can see, and although he’s too weak to sit up properly, his muscles sore from being ushered to wherever they had taken him...
“... Who.... Who a r e you...?” He dares to ask, and although his throat feels dry and a bit scratchy, he doesn’t feel the sedation that so commonly made it nearly impossible to even so much as speak. “... What is this place...?” His head turns to the side when he can no longer hold it up, a quiet groan leaving the man as the migraine in his head blocks out many sensations, one of his bony hands clutching the thin blanket that covers him.
“The light--“ He weakly tries to lift a hand to gesture upward, his eyes squeezing shut as he tries to block out the fluorescent light that bathed his room in shades of white.
“.... The light-- please..... I don’t... want it on....”
