Chapter 3
1051 Words
Her name's Octavia Malone.
70, yet looking 24 with her slender, curvy figure. And yes, A vampire. A rare breed with untamed temper fury.
Born with regenerative cells, nothing, absolutely nothing was capable of ending her life. Over 70 years of her life, she had hated being born as who she was, but had to accept her fate when all her research to becoming human, ended in futile attempts.
Blaming her temper and living with the guilt of her mom's death, she decided to grant her mom's last wish. To save humanity from the hands of other dangerous kind of theirs.
How?
Octavia Malone choose to be a surgeon.
And why she choose to be a surgeon?
The vampire kind were about dominating the human race with a very deadly experiment.
**
She walked swiftly out of the medical center for the car after she was done washing off the blood stains from her body. Her phone buzzed inside her trousers pocket.
She ignored, but then it came again. Taking up the call, it was Sylvia's chattering voice. This time, it wasn't fear, but happiness.
“Octavia? She called out excitedly. “get back quickly! The president got us to the federal hospital as permanent staffs!”
“Oh..ok,”
That was all she said to Sylvia before ending the conversation.
The nights covered the cloud with thick darkness as she drove down the dead streets, demolished building sights and dead bodies piled up the once lively road. Her beam light were barely on as the only source of light.
Then she saw it. A barricade loomed ahead, two black war tanks parked sideways across the road. Armed soldiers stepped into view, their rifles leveled. In the center, barely upright, was a man, young, face bloodied, lips split, shirt torn, and barely conscious. They held him by the collar like bait. The lookouts moved with military precision. This was another group of enemy soldiers. She thought.
One of the soldiers stepped forward, shouting, “Out of the car! Or we blow out your tires!”
Octavia’s hands played with the steering wheel. Her mind calculated, ten seconds to cover the distance on foot, five to kill the first two. But her gaze locked on the hostage’s bruised face. He was barely hanging on.
She killed the dim beam light and slowly stopped the car.
The moment she stepped out, their weapons clicked. She raised her hands slightly in surrender, and provocation.
“You’re surrounded!” one barked.
Octavia smirked.
And then, she moved.
Fast. Too fast.
A pile of dust went into the air, as she vanished in a blur. The two nearest soldiers had no time to react before she was between them, her claws slicing through their neck as their bodies dropped.
Shouts exploded. Gunfire lit the night. But Octavia was already gone from their line of fire, tearing through the formation like a wolf among sheep.
She moved low and fast, flipping over the hood of a car, driving her heel into a soldier’s skull with a crack that echoed. Another tried to stab her, he caught a claw to the throat instead.
The last two aimed desperately at her. One hit her shoulder,but she barely flinched. She lunged forward, grabbed him by the vest, and slammed his head against the hood so hard the dent would never buff out.
The man they held hostage had slumped to the ground, gasping. His face turned toward her, dazed, eyes wide, trying to make out his rescuer. He could see only the shape of her in the shadows, tall, deadly, yet oddly calm.
“who are you?” he asked.
Octavia crouched in front of him for a moment. Her eyes glowed faintly in the dark. “an angel sent from heaven to save you. Run,”
“But who are you—?” he whispered.
She was already walking away.
He scrambled toward the nearest SUV, blood still dripping from his lip, his heartbeat pulsing. The engine roared to life and tires screeched as he took off down the street, not daring to look back.
**
“It's with great joy to announce to you all about the inauguration of our new hospital director and chief surgeon tomorrow. We advise everyone to be in their best behaviors, as any form of misbehavior wouldn't be condoned,” the vice director announced in the meeting, with the surgeons of NOCTURNE MEDICAL CENTER.
chattering and murmurings erupted from the the surgeons at the announcement,
“Inauguration? when we barely had two weeks to mourn the late director Kristen?”
Gerald, the gynecology surgeon questioned, amidst the affirmation of other surgeons.
“It's the chairman's order, I'm sorry we have no other option than to obey,” the vice director announced.
The next morning.
Octavia walked into the hospital with Sylvia behind. There at the hallway, stood the vice director. A middle aged woman in her early sixties, with her dazzling smile.
“Welcome to NOCTURNE, Miss Octavia Malone,”
Octavia who was a bit dazed, nodded slightly in respect, “isn't she seeing me too, seriously?” Sylvia mumbled to Octavia who just smiled.
“You haven't responded to our mails, lately. I guess it's the volunteer work at Niga,” the vice director continued, “the new director had recommended you for the post of NOCTURNE’S chief surgeon,”
“Chief surgeon?” Both Octavia and Sylvia rasped simultaneously.
“Yeah. And we've being trying to reach out to know if the position suits you and if you'd be needing any adjustments before your inauguration,”
“Any decision is ok by me,” Octavia dropped, trying to hide the excitement in her voice.
“Since you said so, the security guards will lead you to the inauguration hall,” then she walked out as the guards came to accompany Octavia to the hall. Doctors and nurses watched in amazement as Octavia appeared to be the youngest chief surgeon in the hospital.
“Ladies and gentlemen of NOCTURNE MEDICAL CENTER, let's all stand as we welcome our 7th director, Mr. Drake Hawston,”
The moment he walked up to the stage, Octavi
a and Sylvia walked into the hall. That moment, she felt that frequency.
A vampire was close by.
- Writer
