POV: Neil Johnson
I wake up in a white room, lying on a soft cot. I blink, squinting at the bright lights overhead. Groaning in pain, I sit up slowly. My neck hurts a lot and I have a massive headache. I push my back against the wall, pulling my knees up to my chest. I take a look at my surroundings.
The room is completely white all around. Floor to ceiling, just pure white. I hold my hands in front of my face. They are clean, yet rough and covered with callouses. I flex them, opening and closing them into fists. I flex all of my fingers slowly, one by one. Dirt clumps up under my fingernails. Where am I? Who am I? I try to recall how I got here, but there's nothing. I try to recall anything, but there's nothing. My mind is completely blank.
I don't even know my own name.
Neck aching again, I bring a hand up to massage it. Sharp pain greets me as soon as I touch the right side of my neck, and I yank my hand away. I felt a bandage, and something squishy. I don't understand what is happening. I know things, like how to talk and walk. I know what things are, like trees and the sky and books. But I can't remember anything about me.
A door suddenly opens, and I flinch in surprise. In walks a tall, blonde haired man with ice blue eyes. Discomfort swells in my gut. How do I know and remember what these things are? But I don't know the man. I've never seen him before. I've never seen anyone. This man is the first person I've ever seen.
He is tall and lean, wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and a pair of black slacks. He smiles at me, his eyes bright with kindness and concern. He looks...polite.
"Oh good, you're awake!" he says, rushing over. "How are you feeling?"
"Um..." Words abandon me. I bring a hand up to my temple, pushing my fingers into my hair. "Okay, I think?"
"Good. I was worried you might not make it," says the man, frowning. "But it looks like you pulled through."
"Where am I?"
"In a town called Brax," he answers. "I am a doctor."
"What?" My brain floods with uncomprehension.
"You don't remember?" His brow draws with concern.
"Remember what?" My head is pounding.
The man sighs, sitting on the edge of my cot. "You were attacked by zombies. I saved you and brought you back here. You nearly died."
I struggle to pull this memory from the black abyss in my mind, but nothing happens.
"Zombies? What? Who are you?" My heart beats rapidly in my chest.
"Just calm down," the man says softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You've been through quite the ordeal."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Dr. Jacobs. But you can call me Keith," he says with a friendly smile.
"Who...am I?" I gulp.
Keith's smile falters for a second, and I notice a brief but chilling look in his eyes. But it disappears so quickly that I'm not sure I even saw it. "That's not important right now. I'm sure it will all come back to you soon."
He rises from the cot, a syringe in his hand. I eye it warily, but Keith shakes his head. "It's only medicine. It should help with your...amnesia."
"But-"
Keith jams the needle into my neck. "Rest now."
Within seconds, the smiling image of him disappears and I fade into darkness.
The End.