My eyes shot open, revealing a blindingly white sight as I lay on my back. Yet I didn't cover my eyes, as there was no need. I don't know why, but there wasn't. I sat up and looked around. White. White. White everywhere I looked. Except for my body. A peachy skin tone greeted my eyes as I looked down to find myself naked. I felt comfortable despite my naked form, though. Like I was at home. Taking a deep breath, I smelt lavender, which soon became sterile, and everything became undone.

The entire room unraveled before my eyes. Cracks were on the floor, walls and ceiling. As the room dimmed until the walls became an inky, disgusting, vile and cold black, I stood still in confusion Then, I shuddered and I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling like I was being watched. It was wrong. This blackness was wrong. Everything about it.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongwrong WRONG! Completely and utterly wrong!

The darkness had eyes; it had teeth, tendrils and feelers and blades. I couldn't see them but I knew that they had it. I could sense them wriggle and writhe. I knew what they touched and I knew what they wanted to touch. I felt sick. It seemed as if I was something to feel; like my very existence was being groped. The mass of darkness pushed and pulled, pulsed and throbbed as if it was some sort of disgusting, beating heart. Its shape formed, and it gained an arm, two legs, and long, gangly feelers. It charged, and I raised my hands over where it was stabbing: my heart.

My mind reeled in agony as I felt the pain, and I let out a scream. Falling to my knees in anguish and horror, I cried. I cried and cried, my mind unable to comprehend what just happened as the pain rolled through every nerve in my arms. Blood dripped onto the black floor, perfectly visible despite the blending colours. It hurts! As I was let alone on the floor, curled in a ball as the spike was left embedded in me, I could feel each and every inch of that blade in my arms and my chest. The fear, the tension and the extreme torture I was experiencing enough to have my consciousness flicker.

But it's... strange. I'm looking at me, not from me or my eyes. I can see around me in 360 degrees, every bit of me visible as I stare down at myself. I move. I stand up. I walk. I try to run away, unsure if it would strike again. I feel strange. it hurts. It really, really hurts. But it's like a second-hand pain. Like watching someone get hit when watching a video, or how guys flinch when they see another man get hit in the crotch; except I feel it. It's diluted, though.

The pain spread throughout my hands, and a numbness appeared from below the middle of my forearms down past my elbow.

Gasping for air despite the pain, I hear a voice suddenly speak out against the darkness. Feminine and familiar:

"Quiet. You're far too loud for reliving a memory."

And the pain was gone. The room brightened slightly, every surface now a gentle grey. The memory of the pain remained, and the voice sighed. I followed the sound, looking to where a throne, which wasn't there before, stood. A white figure sat atop it, looking haughty and all sorts of prideful. What the throne was made of wasn't the same grey as I had expected it would be, no. It was flashes of images, videos, repeated sequences. A single phrase came to mind:

"Is my life flashing before my eyes?" I asked the figure. Despite them not having any facial features - or any features at all - I could tell the sentence irked them.

"No you babbling baboon. I'm just getting comfortable. Good memories make a better throne than the bad." They said, standing up, dusting their legs off, and walking towards me. "Gotta admit though, wasn't expecting you to be here. Like... at all. Colour me impressed."

"Who are you?" I asked, a calmness flooding over my mind. Ah... this is nice...

"I'm you." Oh, we're going with this cliché too huh? "More accurately, I'm the personification of your mind. People usually don't get here, I think. You won't see me often, if at all after this. Any more questions before I give you an exposition dump?"

"Where am... where is this?"

"I feel like you're not listening. At all." The form sighed, palming her face. "We're basically in your mind. To get specific, we're in the part of your mind containing all of your memories. One more question if you got any."

"What was... that thing?" The form shuffled in place before moving back to their throne of memories and planting themselves down.

"Just a memory of the physical damage. You got stabbed, remember? Literally all of five hours ago, get with the program Kiera, we've got shit to cover." They snapped their fingers and I was suddenly forced into a seat.

"First things first you overgrown flesh-sack, the body has been sending the brain signals left and right that now its safe and... healed. Look, the cracks are gone." Mind-Me said, gesturing to the room. Where there used to be cracks, there was now a plaster-like material covering them.

"Neat." I said, the calmness fading into something more akin to neutrality.

"Yes, neat." Sighed my mental twin. "My point being, Kiera Macguire, is that we were very close to death. We lost a lot of blood, and thankfully, somehow it's all back and I don't know how. I really don't. And Body doesn't know how either. So, I'm going to wake you up in a moment, and then we'll know what the hell happened... hopefully. Well, good luck!"

"WAI-"

I gasped my chest rose into the air and I began coughing, covering my face with a hand as I rolled onto my side. Then I paused after I finished coughing. I flexed my fingers slowly, then moved my arms in front of me. I could move them, that was good. I can breathe properly for the most part, also good. That cough hurt, so I felt pain, which was very good.

"I'm alive? Good... good..." I looked at my sleeves and noticed that I was wearing my clothes, albeit torn as they were over my chest, my sleeves were rolled up past my elbows. There was no scar over my chest or my arms, despite me vividly remembering being stabbed through my arms. It felt... kind of strange to not have scars after that, and I almost wished I kept them. Would be a pretty badass story to tell.

I didn't have a catheter in my arm, thankfully, those things always creeped me out. Either whoever set me here didn't think I needed it, or they were incompetent... maybe. I don't know how hospitals work. So I stood up slowly, stretching my legs and feeling pretty limber! I bounced in place a few times and was up and about before I heard the doorknob creak.

Turning to look at whoever was opening it, I sat on the bed and said "Come in." In a sing-song tone. The person on the other side was likely startled as they paused on the door, before finishing pushing it open quickly.

"Ki, why; no how- how are you awake right now? The doctor said you'd be out for at least a couple of days." Asked a clearly worried Lacey, followed by Joseph and an anxious Cait, also Owen, my best friend of ten years. He almost pushed past them, but I can tell he resisted the urge, likely due to the bloodstains on me and my clothes.

"Truth be told, no idea. I think I'm going crazy though. I just spoke to my mind, relived the pain of being stabbed, you know, the usual Friday night." I chuckled and opened my arms for a hug, should there be any takers. "No? No one? Alright I see how it is. I save your lives and I don't even get a hug. Traitors..." I made a pouty face, pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes like in Joseph's favourite anime, getting a snort out of him.

To my surprise, as I was putting my arms down, Cait rushed towards me, and practically tackled me onto the bed, hugging me close and just as tight.

"Oh! There's a hugger! Hey Cait." She didn't respond with words, instead hugging me even tighter. "Okay... cutting off oxygen..."

"How y' holding up Kiera?" Owen asked, and I gave him a thumbs-up as I was slowly being murdered by possibly the cutest redhead I knew: Cait. A good way to go. Speaking of death, I still have no idea how I don't have any injuries.

"So... does anyone know why I don't have a single scar, stitch or wound?" I asked after managing to pry Cait off of me. All of them looked confused as I showed them my chest, and where my wrists were stabbed. Joseph was the first to speak up on that.

"Apparently, after a doctor called Owen as your emergency contact, he called us to tell us that you, and everyone else in the hospital, were completely healed. No diseases, viruses, infections, what have you. They don't know what happened but... a group of people have claimed they are responsible. It seems kind of shady, but it's all we have to go off of." They could all probably tell I was confused - likely because of my face - and shrugged.

"We're not sure either." Lacey told me. "All that matters right now is that you're okay though, okay? We'll head back home, cook some food, and go about our daily lives. Sound good?"

"Yup! Sounds good to me!" I said with a smile. I could go for a nice bath after this.

Several days passed. Incidents like what happened at my hospital happened rapidly around the world, leading to a sudden religious uprising to appear, Christians praising God, Buddhists for Buddha, etcetera etcetera. For all I knew, it might have been God. But truth be told, I don't care. He can stay in his heavens alone, I like Earth and I'll stay for quite a bit longer, I think.

After the robbery incident, I started to pay more attention to things; probably out of some sort of trauma to avoid things like that again. I noticed the subtle changes in people's everyday appearances. Like Lacey for example.

She had grown an inch since the last time I paid attention, now a good 4'2", and had a paradoxically petite yet curvy frame at the same time that I couldn't help but envy. I believe the term for her... "endowments" on her body is called a short stack? Small lady, big breast and booty. Her simple brown hair was done up neatly with a braid around the crown of her head, while the rest of her hair draped down to her neck. She was cute, I think, I also think she got another freckle, though, so my thoughts are a bit over the place.

Now, Cait and Joseph, and even Owen? They were different beasts. I chuckled softly as I compared everyone's appearances to a week before. Cait no longer had bags under her eyes, a whole five days of nightmares before we managed to stop them... somehow. Joseph had lost a couple of pounds but then got them back. And Owen... Owen was Owen.

*****

On the very next Sunday, watching the news, Lacey was wearing a not-so-happy expression. Closer to fear than anything else. I understood that fear too, for multiple reasons. The first being that China's government had bombed its people, and the second was that China had been razed to the ground by itself.

Thirdly, after Lacey changed the channel, was that the President of the US had declared war on Russia and Communism.

"Son of a-" No later had Lacey begun speaking when the house suddenly began to rock in place. I grabbed the back of the couch, steadying myself while I heard a thunk and a squeal down the hall. It seems Joseph and Cait woke up just now.

"Guys, if you can, let's get out... side... the shaking suddenly stopped, and the others, Cait and Joseph, made their way into the living room slowly. "Huh. Well, that wasn't so"

"Kiera Jessie Macguire, if you finish that sentence I will personally sign your obituary." Lacey shut me up real quick. But, as sudden as everything was today, there was yet more.

Without warning, a sound similar to radio static played loud enough that we thought it was inside our heads, only for it to quiet down and a familiar voice spoke.

"Hello? Hello hello! Oh, good, it's working now." The man... boy, from the bar before the incident began, "Well, hello everyone! I decided now is as good a time as any before the rest of you begin nuking yourselves to high hell. You may all call me F.S. Remember it well, as I'm going to be the one person you'll be going to about your questions in a bit! I am the person who has healed your wounded, your sick, and finally your downtrodden. I had not skipped a single person. And I am offering many of you another chance, in an unpolluted world, in a bigger world.

I am what you can call a Demi-God, me and my associates have grown weary of the war that you ravaged our planet with, and think it is time to let the world recoup." I couldn't see him but I could practically hear him grin at his next words. "There will be fifty of you to begin with, but soon I plan to leave have every person who has not committed any serious crimes, which I will confirm personally, brought to the new world." A shudder ran down my spine. I had a bad feeling about this.

"The first fifty of you will be brought to Sequim, Washington of the United States of America. Please, remain calm, you will be given a five minute period to say a short farewell to your loved ones." He paused, and I looked at everyone around me in a panic.

"Does anyone know what the FUCK is going on?" I asked, hoping someone would, for some reason have an answer.

"Kiera... do we look like we have answers?" Lacey asked, and Cait began sniffle. We weren't given a long time before he spoke up.

"Sorry, sorry, had to grab my list of names. Oh hey, I know a few of these people!" Exclaimed F.S., the incorrigible bastard. "Okay, without further adieu: Miranda Pinson, Morino Ado, Mana T'a'akwa, Kiera Macguire," My sight blurred for a moment as I looked at everyone around me once more. Tears welled up in my eyes as if the world was about to end. I instantly brought everyone into a deep hug. There was a visceral fear at their words. I wasn't sure why, but I was one-hundred percent confident his words of us being "brought" to Washington would be sudden and abrupt. If he really healed the people, which makes sense, since he called my fucking name, then teleportation probably wasn't too difficult.

"I don't know... what the hell is going o.. on... but I promise, I'm coming back..." We spent three minutes crying, even Joseph was tearing up. Meanwhile, Owen was panicking, filling up a bag with different foods and drinks. I could see his desperation, and how he even looked at the knife on his waist before stuffing it in there too. "You're going to come back, Kiera." He muttered, over and over, like a mantra, still running around and opening cupboards and drawers. When he was satisfied, he jogged over, set the bag down quickly, and hugged me. "You're coming back... you fucking better come back..." I reached my hands up to grip his shirt, nodding.

"Yeah." There was a sudden countdown in my head, starting at Ten. I don't think the others heard it, so it was definitely for me. Nine. I pushed Owen off of me with a look of terror. Eight. "I love you guys." Seven. "We know Kiera!" Six. Lacey grabbed the bag and shoved it towards my chest. Five. "We'll get to you-Four- soon!" I could hear a ringing in my ears. Three. I put the bag around my shoulders. Two. I closed my eyes and said, "I love you g-One-uys!" A tear dripped down my cheek to the floor. Zero.

And then darkness.