Ansel
Ansel’s eyes flew open and chaos ensued. Filled with adrenaline, he sprang up in the bed, grabbing a masked stranger by the neck.
“Lorazepam!”
Ansel could not place where he was or what was happening. The lights were blinding and painful. Blue gloves, blue masks, and eyes of strangers encroached him, swirled over him and around him. He felt overwhelmed and attacked.
Hands pried Ansel’s hand from the neck. A dozen arms held Ansel back from flinging himself off the bed or doing further damage. Ansel felt something cold in his arm and it spread through his body.
A voice chuckled. “I think the atro-corticoid worked a little too well.”
Ansel’s fight instinct abated. His body relaxed. The glaring light dissipated and his eyes adjusted. He registered for the first time where he
