The Island Part 1 - The Wakening David woke suddenly and immediately realised something was seriously, horribly wrong. His head throbbed with a dull ache that felt like a cross between a severe hangover and the after-effects of concussion he vaguely remembered from his days playing rugby football at university. His eyes blinked painfully in the light that streamed through the single window of his room. Gradually, his eyes adjusted themselves and he started to recognise the shapes and blurs that surrounded him. At first glance he felt that he was laid in some kind of hospital bed, several monitoring machines stood beside him on his left hand side. Faint and rhythmic beeping could be heard coming from these although he couldnt see the displays as they were turned away from him. As well as the large full height window to his right, there was also single door straight in front of him with a large mirror beside it. Other that these, the room was sparsely decorated, with plain white-washed walls and ceiling. The floor had a greenish-bluish tinge and a similarly clinical appearance to the rest of the room. David shut his eyes and tried to remember the events that might have led to his arrival in this place. Although he knew he should be scared he in fact felt oddly calm. His memory seemed blank and he found it hard to try and recall anything that might have explained his current situation. His body had a strange numb feeling and heaviness that he also couldnt explain. He tried, without success, to lift his head off the pillow. His arms were also heavy but he could feel the cool crisp feel of the starched white sheets against his upper body. His lower half and legs were completely numb and he tried to gaze downwards to check his legs were still actually attached to his body although, due to a sudden feeling of extreme dizziness and nausea, he gave up and closed his eyes again. Soon, he seemed to drift off into a dream-like state. Partial images and sounds appeared to him like he was watching scenes from a film. Dancing. Bright lights. Drinking. Laughter. Losing his friends in a bar. Drunkenly stumbling into a club. Meeting a dark haired stranger . Then blackness. He opened his eyes again to find his vision clearer and the numb feeling in his body gradually subsiding. His head cleared although his memory was still absent. The view through the window was obscured by blinds although a faint green tinge and the gentle movement of what might have been trees was just visible behind them. His eyes fully focused and allowed him to look down at himself better than before. The feeling of dizziness and nausea had passed and did not return. Each of his arms had an intravenous drip attached, through which clear fluid appeared to be flowing slowly. His legs still felt heavy and numb although he could now move his arms a little, and lift his head from the pillow. With a grateful sigh of relief he saw the outline of the toes of both feet sticking up from the sheets at the end of his bed. Thank God! he croaked, his voice hoarse and dry. He tried to clear his throat. Hello? he attempted, his voice still breaking slightly. HELLO? he called out, louder and clearer this time. There was no response. The room stayed eerily silent except for the faint beeping of the monitor beside his bed. Have I been involved in some kind of accident? David thought to himself. He still failed to recollect anything that might have happened to explain why he had come to wake up in this strange and hospital-like environment. He hoped that he was not paralysed in some way, perhaps due to severe injuries to his back or lower body. There was no way to find out and his legs remained stubbornly immobile and numb. Despite straining with effort, gritting his teeth and almost tears of desperation he still failed to lift his legs or move his toes with even a flicker. He had to know the truth. He had to see if there were any wounds or signs of damage to his lower body or legs. With patience and further effort his arms became a little stronger and he was finally able to lift them up a few inches off the bed. The drips tugged slightly but otherwise the movement of his arms was unimpeded. He stretched and exercised his fingers, trying to get the movement back to be able to grip the sheets. After what seemed like a few minutes he managed to lift his arms almost up to his head although they flopped back onto the bed as soon he relaxed again. He knew his next attempt would be successful. With a deep breath he lifted his arms and gripped the edges of the bed sheet as it lay over his lower half. Slowly he managed to roll the sheet down, until his belly was exposed. So far so good, he thought. He inspected himself for wounds, scars or dressings and saw nothing untoward. He lifted his arms again and managed to roll the sheet to the tops of his hips, suddenly realising that he was naked under the sheets although his groin was unusually hair-free and looked very freshly and cleanly shaved. He paused at this point to recover his energy and to lift the sheet as far up as possible so that he could see all the way down to his feet. With a faint grunt of effort he lifted his arms while holding the edge of the sheet, wobbling slightly as he raised them further. He looked down, as the light of the window illuminated his lower body and revealed the shocking truth of what now lay below the sheets. Holy fuck! he cried out, What the fuck is that?!.