Rebound: The CEO'S Revenge System

Chapter 2A: The First Mission

The world was dark. It was a heavy, thick darkness. It felt like black water filling a deep hole. 

Ryan was floating in it. He could not feel his legs. He could not feel his arms. He tried to open his mouth to scream, but his lips were sealed shut like a heavy door.

Ryan was a prisoner in his own body.

He could hear sound. It was the slow, steady beep... beep... beep of a heart monitor. The sound was annoying. It was the only thing that told him he was still alive.

"Am I dead?" he thought. "Is this hell?"

Suddenly, the darkness broke. A light appeared. It was not the sun. It was not a lamp. It was a strange, glowing blue square. It floated right in the middle of the blackness behind his eyes.

Ryan was confused. He had never seen anything like this. White letters appeared on the blue screen. They were clear and bright.

[SYSTEM ACTIVATED]

[HOST STATUS: CRITICAL]

Ryan stared at the words in his mind. A System? Like a video game? This was crazy. He remembered the car crash. He remembered the screeching tires and the glass breaking. He remembered the pain.

Then, new words appeared. These words made his blood turn cold.

[ANALYSIS COMPLETE. CAUSE OF COMA: NEURO-TOXIN LEVEL 4.]

[YOU ARE NOT ASLEEP. YOU HAVE BEEN POISONED.]

Ryan felt a wave of shock. Poisoned? He thought it was an accident. He thought he lost control of the car. But the blue screen told a different story. Someone wanted him to sleep forever. Someone wanted him dead, but slowly.

Who?

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

The sound of high heels hit the hospital floor. The noise was sharp and loud. Ryan knew that walk. He knew the rhythm of those steps.

It was Clara. His wife.

The door to his hospital room opened. A gust of cold air hit his face. He could feel the cold, but he could not shiver. He could smell her perfume. It was sweet, expensive, and strong. It used to smell like love to him. Now, it smelled like danger.

"Hey, baby," Clara said.

But she was not talking to him. Her voice was different. It was not soft or sad. It was bright and happy. She was on the phone.

Ryan listened. He focused all his mind on her voice.

"Yes, I am in the room now," Clara said into her phone. She walked closer to the bed. "He is still out cold. The doctor said he might never wake up. Isn't that sad?"

She laughed. It was a short, cruel laugh.

"Don't worry, Mark," she continued. "The money is safe. I spoke to the lawyer today. If Ryan stays asleep for one more month, I get power over all his bank accounts. Everything. The house, the cars, the business."

Ryan felt a fire of rage in his chest. Mark. Mark was his best friend. His wife and his best friend were working together. They did not just want his money. They put him in this bed. They poisoned him.

He wanted to jump up. He wanted to grab Clara and scream. But he was a stone. He was a statue. He could not move a muscle.

The blue screen flashed again. It was urgent this time. The light pulsed in his mind.

[NEW MISSION ALERT]

[OBJECTIVE: ABSORB THE ANTIDOTE.]

[ACTION: MOVE YOUR RIGHT PINKY FINGER.]

[REWARD: 10% POISON REMOVAL.]

[FAILURE PENALTY: PERMANENT DEATH.]

Ryan looked at the words. Move his pinky finger? It sounded so simple. It sounded like the easiest thing in the world. A baby could do it.

But for Ryan, it was like trying to lift a mountain.

He focused on his right hand. He could not see it, but he knew it was resting on the white hospital sheet. He tried to send a signal from his brain to his hand.

“Move,” he commanded.

Nothing happened.

“Move!” he screamed in his head.

His finger felt like it was miles away. It felt disconnected, like a plug pulled from the wall.

Clara walked to the side of the bed. He could hear her breathing. She was close. Very close.

"Yeah, I'm looking at him now," Clara said to Mark on the phone. "He looks so pathetic. Just lying there."

She reached out. Ryan felt her cold fingers touch his right hand.

Panic filled him. The mission was to move his right pinky. But Clara was holding that hand! If he moved it while she was holding it, she would feel it. She would know he was waking up.

If she knew he was waking up, she would not wait. She would kill him right now. She would pull the plug or put a pillow over his face.

"Wait, let me see," Clara said. She lifted his right hand.

Ryan’s mental struggle paused. He had to wait. He had to be still. The suspense was terrible. It felt like a heavy weight on his chest.

Clara was looking at his wedding ring. It was a gold band with a small diamond.

"I think I can sell this ring," Clara said, her voice greedy. "Why should a vegetable wear gold? He doesn't need it. I can get maybe two thousand dollars for it. That will pay for my spa weekend."

She twisted the ring on his finger. She pulled it slightly.

Ryan felt pure anger. She was stealing the ring off his finger while he lay dying. The anger was good. The anger gave him energy. It was like fuel for an engine.

"Ugh, it's tight," Clara complained. She tugged again. "I'll get some soap later and take it off."

She dropped his hand.

Wham.

His hand hit the mattress. It lay there, palm up.

"Hold on, Mark," Clara said. She turned away from the bed. "I need to check my makeup in the mirror. I look tired waiting for this idiot to die."

She walked to the small mirror on the wall. Her back was to Ryan.

“Now.” Ryan said in his thoughts.

The blue screen flashed. [TIME IS RUNNING OUT.]