Words: provide, goalkeeper, trend, hurt, prescription, mathematics, recover.
The cheering of the crowd filled the stadium. The famous goalkeeper, Ethan Benowitz, managed to get another goal. With a spectacular upward jump and a spin in the air.
But now, as he was lying on the ground and curled up like a fetus, he felt a severe pain in his back. His facial muscles crumpled and he squeezed the ball hard.
Seeing him in that condition, his teammates realized that he was hurt and immediately called some people to take him out on a stretcher.
Meanwhile, Ethan was wondering if he had reached the end of his work. Not just in football, but in life. He was a lab-made player and he knew very well what happens to lab players that have passed their expiration date.
Ethan was lying on his stomach on the hospital bed and the doctor was examining his back.
"My poor Ethan, your vertebrae are wretchedly broken, some of them nearly crushed."
Ethan felt his heart stop for a moment.
"Doctor, is there a solution?"
"I have to take these vertebrae out of your back and replace them with new ones. But the problem is that it's not trendy to use laboratory players these days, and it's not easy to provide their body parts."
In his mind, Ethan saw the angel of death standing in front of him with his scythe. How long will it take for the agents of the player recycling organization to come to him? Figuring this out did not require complex mathematical calculations.
"I'll write you a prescription. You'll recover a little by taking these medicines. Don't forget to take them in the prescribed amount and..."
Ethan's ears could no longer hear the doctor's words. In his imagination, he saw the agents of the organization coming towards him in their long black leather jackets and sunglasses, pouring some drug syrup into his mouth, lifting him from the bed and take him towards their black ambulance.
Their destination is the recycling factory. where they put Ethan on a metal bed to press him like a disabled tool. Ethan's eyes are open and he sees the press machine getting closer to him every moment.
Cold drops of sweat sits on his forehead and terror swallows all his being. He wants to open his mouth and scream with all his heart, but he can't. Drug syrup has taken away the ability to do such actions from him.
The press machine comes closer and closer and in a moment darkness covers everything.
