Before You Slip Into Unconsciousness Novels & Stories

I mumble along, my consciousness slowly fading as I slur a few pleas again for them to let me go. My lips move, the words becoming more and more confused, just until I pass out.

The weight of uncertainty engulfs me, suffocating like a heavy fog. I find it hard to fathom that I remain conscious. It seems that he either overlooked my crucial organs or deliberately chose to prolong this excruciatingly slow process. As I struggle to stay awake, I can sense the silver seeping into my bloodstream. The world around me starts to spin, accompanied by the overwhelming scent of blood.

Before I could call out her name, I turned to run after her, but before I could take a single step, everything went dark. A sharp pain erupted at the back of my head, and my knees buckled beneath me as I crumpled to the ground, the world pulsating black and silent. As consciousness slipped away, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears clouded my mind—where was she taking the poison? What would happen now? The last thing I heard before losing all awareness was the soft scuff of shoes on the cold floor and the unsettling silence that followed, leaving me vulnerable to the darkness closing in.

Her head dipped forward slightly, then jerked back as she tried to fight it, but the dizziness came stronger now. Her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, like they no longer belonged to her. The ringing in her ears intensified. Her eyelids fluttered. Then slowly, her head fell forward. Her body gave in. She slipped into unconsciousness. Paschal glanced at her briefly, his expression calm, almost bored. “Take a nap, Tessa,” he said casually, as though nothing unusual had happened. He reached over, adjusting her posture, pushing her head gently backward so it rested against the seat.

Find me. The world began to fracture at the edges, darkness creeping into my vision. The last thing I saw before consciousness slipped away was the doctors leaning over me, taking notes, and discussing me like an unusually interesting lab experiment. And all I can think is: this is only day one.

Before I could protest or beg for mercy, he hit the thing hard across the right side of my head and my knees buckled, causing me to fall down on top of the shards. My vision blurred and my body was limp. Pain radiated from my head to the rest of me. I blinked and tried to stay awake, but it was so hard. With each passing second, I was getting more sleepy. I blinked and my vision cleared for just a quick second. The last thing I saw was the guy standing over me, watching me as I slipped into unconsciousness. Darkness. I was bathed in a world of darkness. It was peaceful though, no pain or worries. It was like I had a sense of self, but at the time, it was like I didn’t exist anymore.

I stumbled backward, shock flooding me. Susan caught me before I hit the ground. “What—” My voice slurred. Her expression softened, regret flickering in her eyes. “I’m sorry.” My vision darkened. The corridor blurred. My body felt heavy. I tried to move. Tried to push her away. But my limbs wouldn’t respond. Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision. My thoughts slowed. Susan’s face blurred above me. She knocked me out. The thought felt distant. Faint.

I didn’t realize that my consciousness slipped away when everything turned black. To be continued…

Blood trickled down my nose, the warm taste thick on my tongue as I struggled to stay conscious. In that moment, I teetered on the brink of unconsciousness before everything went black.

I felt myself falling, drifting, floating away from the pain and noise and desperate activity around my body. "BP dropping further—50/25." "She's in hypovolemic shock." "Start chest compressions." The voices were fading, growing more distant with each labored beat of my heart. But just before consciousness slipped away entirely, I thought I heard it again. "Mia. Don't leave me." Was I dreaming? I tried to answer, to reach toward that voice, but the darkness was complete now, swallowing everything in its path. The last thing I registered was the high-pitched, urgent wail of a monitor—the sound of a flatline.