My World of Hell, part four

I dreamed of a soft bed. I realized it was my bad back home. It had been so long, I wondered what happened to it?

The covers stirred, but it wasn't me. Someone was with me in bed. I felt I knew her, but....

I woke up. Someone touched my face. I didn't react. I was too tired, too hurt. Pain lanced every part of me. I didn't have the will anymore to help myself.

"Awaken," a voice said.

I looked up. A blurry shape hovered over me. It had to be Hedrack. I wanted to die right there.

"Please," the voice said again. "Awaken."

Only then did I realize it was a woman's voice. I tried to sit up, but my broken ribs wouldn't allow it. A hand reached under me and helped me. I started to cry out, but another hand covered my mouth gently.

"Here, drink."

I did what I was told. Even before the flask touched my lips I could smell the healing potion. I drank it deeply. When it was empty she handed me another, and then another. Five potions later the aches and pains were gone.

My adjusted finally and I could see her clearly. It was Hedrack's woman. She wore a large brown cloak. Underneath she wore her usual outfit that covered only the bare essentials. She must have grabbed it at the last moment. If Hedrack knew she were gone--

Or did he? Was he Hedrack. What did he call himself again? Doctor....

She produced a key from under her cloak. "Do you wish to be free?" she asked.

I stared at her, trying to see through the illusion of what was before me. I tried to see a tiled floor beneath us and formica walls around us. I tried to see her wearing something else--a nurse's uniform or a doctor's, or whatever. I tried to imagine myself as a lunatic at Fort Logan Mental Health Institute. I was delusional and I needed to wake up. I needed to become myself again. I needed--

"Tell me," she said, "do you believe what he told you."

I looked at her hand holding the key. It had become a syringe. She was trying to trick me. I tried to pull away but she caught me by my chin. Her grip was warm and firm.

"I believed him," she said. "Through magic, he made me believe. He convinced me I loved him, even as he raped and beat me. I know better now." She held up her hand. The syringe was a key again. "Do you still believe him?"

I reached for the key and felt it. It was made of simple iron. I pushed hard on both ends of it with my fingers. It didn't feel like a needle. She waited for me patiently.

"He is convincing," she said. "I know."

"Yeah, he had me going," I said. I held up my manacles. "But not anymore. Get me the hell out of here."