Christopher stared out of the glass covering above his bed, still feeling sleepy and lethargic due to the fact that he had just woken up. The outside looked strange, but this was because of his now useless left eye. That damned virus affected more than just that though, it had also rendered both of his arms useless.
There were others like him here on this wretched station that were infected with the virus too. Interestingly, all of them were young, the age range being from 12-21. People in the prime of their lives were the targets of this disease, though why was not yet known. The sick were brought up here for treatment, but Christopher yelled bullshit at that. At least for him, he was treated more like a lab rat to be kept solely for experiments. It made him angry, moreso than the fact that he was pretty much unable to do... anything without help now. His pride was wounded, and he felt like he was being treated less and less like a human every passing day.
"Watkins! It's time again!"
Christopher's face twisted into a scowl as he heard the voice of his nurse, Truman, speak over the intercom. He hated this guy. Truman was like a robot programmed to make his life more difficult than it was. Other than constantly ordering him around and speaking to him as of he were something inferior than a human, Truman often acted in a way that seemed to enjoy Christopher's pitiful condition.
"Aw... don't be like thay Watkins, you know we're all here to help you," said Truman as he entered Christopher's room, pressed a few buttons on his pod, and caused the glass dome to open.
"Truman, how nice to see you again," Christopher said sarcastically. "Have the great and intelligent doctors made any progress with their work, or are they still delaying to make a profit off us. Oh I'm sorry, delaying to ensure we sick ones get the best of care?"
The nurse scoffed as he pulled out a bag. It looked just like any other transfusion bag they had been using on him and the other sick ones, but this one just seemed a bit... odd.
"Watch your tongue Watkins, be thankful that you actually get to have treatment!"
Truman pulled up one of Christopher's useless arms, pulled out the tube of the old transfusion bag, and then inserted that of the new one into the smaller tubes leading into his bloodstream. The new bag was then hung up on the IV stand. The liquid was administered into his bloodstream... it felt rather strange really, almost immediately Christopher could feel a weird sense of burning in his body, and even a bit of a surge of energy.
"I hope that wasn't some poison meant to 'kill me ethically'," Christopher said. "Feels like the rest of me is burning."
"Unfortunately no. Experimental drug."
"As always. You know Truman, I often imagined myself receiving treatment from some sexy nurse that I could later f*ck as soon as I started getting better. Instead I get you. Am I allowed to ask you to be exchanged with your wife?"
Christopher smiled as Truman's face became contorted with anger. The nurse hit him, but Christopher only laughed. He enjoyed mocking the nurse.
"I'm going to have you on the streets after this," Christopher said as the nurse stormed out.
Christopher settled himself down, still feeling strange. Today was going to be a long day.
