Chapter 2 :The Impossible Patient
1539 Words
Aurora
I didn't believe in miracles.
Not the kind that ignored science.
Not the kind that laughed in the face of medicine.
Working in an emergency room had taught me that life was fragile. Sometimes we won. Sometimes we lost. And sometimes, no matter how hard we fought, death still claimed its patient.
But as I stood outside Room One with my hand resting on the doorknob, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything I believed was about to be tested.
I pushed the door open.
The room was quiet except for the steady beeping of the cardiac monitor.
The man lay exactly where we'd left him after stabilizing him. His chest rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm, and the oxygen mask fogged faintly with each breath.
He looked... peaceful.
Too peaceful for someone who had been clinically dead less than an hour ago.
I walked to his bedside and picked up his chart.
Unknown Male.
Age: Approximately 28.
No identification.
No next of kin.
No known medical history.
The blank spaces bothered me more than they should have.
"You're becoming famous."
I turned to find Dr. Ibrahim leaning against the doorframe with a tired smile.
"If by famous you mean confused, then yes."
He chuckled and stepped beside me.
"I've never seen anything like this."
Neither had I.
I carefully pulled back the edge of the blanket to examine one of the deep lacerations across the man's ribs.
My breath caught.
"When did you change his dressing?"
Dr. Ibrahim frowned.
"I didn't."
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
Then we both looked back at the wound.
The edges had already begun to close.
Not completely.
But enough to make my stomach tighten.
"It... shouldn't look like that," I whispered.
"It shouldn't."
Those injuries had been severe enough to expose muscle. Even after surgery, healing like this would have taken days.
Maybe weeks.
Not a freaking hour.
I reached for my penlight and gently lifted one of his eyelids.
His pupils reacted normally.
No sign of neurological damage.
No indication that his heart had stopped.
Nothing.
It was as though his body had simply... decided not to die.
I lowered the light and sighed.
"I'm missing something."
"You and the rest of us."
Dr. Ibrahim glanced toward the monitor.
"Maybe the lab results will tell us what we're dealing with."
I hoped so.
Because if they didn't...
I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.
A sharp sting flared across the back of my left hand.
I frowned.
The tiny cut from the broken bracelet.
I hadn't thought much about it after the chaos in the trauma bay.
Now it burned.
I absently rubbed the spot before my eyes drifted to my wrist.
There it was.
For the briefest second.
A faint black crescent beneath my skin.
I blinked.
It vanished.
My pulse quickened.
I looked again.
Nothing.
No mark.
No bruise.
No discoloration.
Just my imagination.
It had to be.
I must be tired.
"You all right?" Dr. Ibrahim asked.
I forced a smile.
"Just tired."
He nodded knowingly.
"Go get some coffee before you start diagnosing ghosts."
I laughed more out of politeness than amusement.
If only he knew.
...
Half an hour later, I sat alone in the staff lounge, staring into a paper cup of coffee that had already gone cold.
I replayed the night over and over in my head.
The wounds.
The flatline.
His silver eyes.
No.
I shook my head.
Silver eyes weren't real.
Stress was playing tricks on me.
It had to be.
The shrill ring of the ward phone pulled me from my thoughts.
"Aurora?"
It was Ada.
"Can you come back to Room One?"
"Is something wrong?"
"You should see this yourself."
The seriousness in her voice sent a chill down my spine.
I set my coffee down and hurried into the corridor.
By the time I reached the room, Ada was standing frozen in the doorway.
She didn't say a word.
She simply stepped aside.
The bed was empty.
The cardiac leads lay disconnected on the mattress.
The IV cannulas had been removed without leaving a trace of blood.
The window at the far end of the room stood wide open.
A cold gust of rain-scented air swept through the room.
I stared in disbelief.
"We're on the fifth floor," I whispered.
Ada nodded slowly.
"I know."
Neither of us moved.
Then something caught my eye.
Resting on the white hospital sheet was a single strand of coarse black fur.
Too long to belong to a dog.
Too thick to belong to any animal I had ever seen.
With trembling fingers, I reached out and picked it up.
It was still warm.
I stared at the strand of black fur resting in my palm.
It was impossibly soft, yet coarse enough to belong to a wild animal. Rainwater clung to it, dampening my fingertips.
"Aurora?" Ada's voice was barely above a whisper. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."
I tore my eyes away from the fur and looked around the room again.
The heart monitor had been disconnected.
The IV tubing lay coiled neatly beside the bed.
The oxygen mask had been placed on the bedside table, almost deliberately.
It didn't look like the room of a patient who had fled in panic.
It looked like someone had quietly... walked away.
Except that was impossible.
"He couldn't have left on his own," I murmured. "He lost too much blood."
"And even if he could walk," Ada added, "how did he get out? The hallway cameras would've caught him."
My stomach tightened.
The window.
I walked toward it, each step slower than the last.
Rain lashed my face the moment I reached the opening.
Five floors below, the hospital parking lot shimmered beneath the streetlights. Ambulances came and went while staff hurried through the downpour, completely unaware that an impossible mystery had just unfolded above them.
There was no fire escape.
No balcony.
Nothing.
Just empty air.
"He didn't jump," Ada said behind me.
I didn't answer.
Because if he had...
No one could have survived.
"Ada," I said quietly, "call Security."
---
Within minutes, the room was filled with security officers, hospital administrators, and Dr. Ibrahim.
Questions came from every direction.
"When was he last seen?"
"Who entered the room?"
"Was anyone assigned to watch him?"
I answered each one as calmly as I could.
But every answer seemed to create two more questions.
The security supervisor returned nearly twenty minutes later, his expression grim.
"We've checked every camera."
"And?" Dr. Ibrahim asked.
The man hesitated.
"No one entered Room One after Nurse Aurora and Nurse Ada left."
Silence settled over the room.
"And no one exited," he continued.
I frowned.
"That's impossible."
"I know."
He held up a tablet displaying the hallway footage.
The corridor outside Room One remained empty the entire time.
No visitors.
No staff.
No patient.
Nothing.
It was as if the man had simply...
Vanished.
---
By the time my shift finally ended, dawn had begun to chase away the storm.
Normally, I'd be eager to get home.
Today, all I wanted was answers.
As I walked through the hospital lobby, I couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching me.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Nothing.
Just tired nurses ending their shifts and visitors arriving for the day.
I stepped outside.
The air smelled fresh after the rain.
My apartment was only a fifteen-minute walk away, and I usually enjoyed the quiet.
Not today.
Every shadow seemed darker.
Every passing car made me jump.
"Get a grip, Aurora," I muttered to myself.
"You're exhausted."
I had taken only a few steps when I felt it.
That same strange warmth on my wrist.
I stopped beneath a streetlamp and rolled back my sleeve.
The black crescent was there again.
Clearer this time.
It shimmered beneath my skin like ink trapped under glass.
I reached out with my other hand.
The instant my fingers touched it...
A sharp pain exploded behind my eyes.
Images flashed through my mind.
A full moon.
A forest consumed by fire.
The deafening howl of a wolf.
Golden eyes.
Silver eyes.
Blood soaking white flowers.
A man's voice echoed through the darkness.
"Find her."
I gasped and stumbled backward.
The vision disappeared as suddenly as it had come.
Cars continued driving past.
People walked along the pavement.
No one had noticed.
I pressed a trembling hand against my chest, trying to steady my breathing.
"What... was that?"
I looked down again.
The crescent had vanished.
As if it had never existed.
I didn't realize I was no longer alone until a deep voice spoke from across the street.
"She's the one."
My head snapped up.
Two men dressed in dark clothing stood beneath the shelter of an old oak tree.
They weren't looking at the hospital.
They were looking at me.
One of them tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving mine.
Then, without another word, they turned and disappeared into the morning crowd.
A chill crawled down my spine.
I had never seen them before.
But somehow...
I knew they hadn't been talking about anyone else.
They had been talking about me.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD