The door opened and two men entered. One in the instantly recognisable uniform of a hospital orderly, the other in the filthy, sweaty clothing of life’s losers. Though through her closed eyelids, she could see nothing but darkness, her hearing was not impaired. Beatrix listed carefully as the heavy clunk of male footsteps halted at the end of her bed. Mumbled words were exchanged, things that Bea could hardly hear. Yet somehow, this situation felt familiar to her, as though it had happened many times before. An unnerving kind of familiarity.

After a moment, she heard a laugh and the closing of the door. Then, to her surprise, the addition of weight onto the bed upon which she lay, as the orderly’s friend crawled over her to take a better look. The stench of alcohol in his breath was overpowering her.

“God damn, you are the best looking girl I’ve had today…” she heard him grunt. Enough was enough. Bea’s eyes snapped open to meet those directly above her. After a moment of indecision, in which confusion dawned upon the man’s face, Bea lunged forward and grabbed his tongue between her teeth, pulling as hard as she could and ignoring his pathetic wails of agony.

New Music:
Seven Notes in Black – Vince Tempera

Minutes later, it was done. Without even leaving her bed, Beatrix Kiddo had killed a man. Her face and neck were soaked with his blood, but she realised now that she didn’t have time to care. Heaving the corpse off of her and onto the floor, Bea grabbed the bed covers, flinging them aside and hauling herself out of bed, ready to make her break for freedom.

Thump.

Dull pain throbbed in her knees, as she found herself sprawled face down on the cold, tiled ward floor. Frowning, she looked around at her legs. Only now did she realise that she was numb from the waist down, no matter how hard she pinched or tapped her thighs. This meant she could not walk, which in turn would provide her with something of a problem.

The bitter taste of blood was gradually seeping into Bea’s mouth, so she reached over for a small cup of water, splashing it on her face and scrubbing as hard as she could with her fingers.

She stopped suddenly.

Those footsteps again. Had that much time really elapsed since both men entered the room? The orderly was returning, his walk accompanied with a tuneful, cheerful whistle. There was no way that Bea could return to her bed. Heart hammering against her ribcage, she glanced wildly around the room. Her first instinct was to run. Since that was impossible, she would use her second instinct: Fight.

Snatching the penknife from the jacket of the dead man, she flicked it open, the small blade winking silver at her… luring her.

The footsteps drew closer.

Using all the strength she possessed in her arms and upper body, Beatrix dragged herself across the floor, ignoring the cold, concealing herself in the shadows around the door- and there she lay in tense anticipation.

The door swung open, and in walked the male orderly, smug grin plstered all over his weasley face.

“Hey buddy, did ya have yourself a good time, man?” he babbled, before his jaw dropped at the sight of the empty bed and the carnage that surrounded his dead friend, wide eyed and lying in his own blood. “Woah…” he whispered in awe. Little did he know that Beatrix was lying on the floor behind him, ready to strike.

(The Narration begins. )