What The Vearth?

Chapter 2: Hallucinations

Clearing my throat, I was about to ask for a name to tag my saviour with, when I was so rudely interrupted by their so-called greatest doctor. While I can’t vouch for his professional abilities, I can certainly guarantee his great sense of timing. Even at first sight, I realised that the doc is definitely not someone easy on the eyes and I was about to learn the hard way that he wasn’t easy to deal with in any way. Trust me, you’d agree with me if you ever did see him, even worse, meet him. Although he seemed to be a chap in his mid-thirties, I caught a heavy-duty military regime vibe wafting off of him, even if he wasn’t fitted with camouflage clothing. Instead, he simply paired his white shirt with a pair of white pants and fine polished black leather shoes. The doc donned a buzz-cut hairstyle and he set his features to reflect a grave and grim expression.

Pushing my annoyance and reluctance aside, I greeted the doctor with a somewhat polite smile that I had hurriedly fixed on my face, “Hello, doc. I’m afraid I’m not quite well. I know this is going to sound weird but I’m seeing things. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not cuckoo. But to be specific, I seem to spot a pair of fine fangs on you guys. Even you have this pointed set of fangs. So, yeah, could you run some tests or something?”

Ignoring my concerned ramblings, the doctor looked straight at my saviour, bowed deeply, and continued in a deep baritone voice, rather solemnly, “Sire, how can I be of service?” This single line sounded so death-like. It felt like he was reading my very own eulogy. In a completely “irrelevant” random thought, the doc’s declaration somehow reminded me of James Earl Jones’ voice coming out of Darth Vader, except that I envisioned him in an almost all-white ensemble here.

In response to the doc’s words, my saviour cleared his throat and replied with an air of unease, “Dr. Xavier, could you please run some tests on our esteemed guest here? He seems to be deeply, uhm, concerned about his state of mind?”

Giving me another one of his distasteful glares, Dr. Xavier continued, “Sire, I stand by my previous diagnosis. As you very well know, there is no physical issue with his body. We have already run all viable tests at our state-of-the-art institution. As for his concern over his mental state, I strongly reiterate my initial suggestion. It would be in the best interest of all parties, to not delay the inevitable.”

Having shifted my gaze between my saviour and Dr. Xavier throughout their dialogue with my mouth agape like one of those fish’s mouth out in the open air, I finally rested my questioning sight paired with my scrunched forehead and overall confused expression on my saviour.

I know the timing is bad. But at this distressing time, my whacked-up brain also made a mental note that my saviour and the despatch chap behind him looked good, you know, well-groomed and built just right, like those models that model for ads and magazines. They seemed to have invested a gracious slice of their time and fortune at the gym and shopping malls. I know I’m supposed to be bothered about the exchange that took place and all the silence that followed suit but me being me, I just had to let my mind flutter here, there, and everywhere.

When no one spoke up after a still more strained bit of silence, I decidedly put down an awkward curtsy and mockingly joked, “What’s going on, your Majesty?”, in a bad attempt to fill the stiff vacuum space with a bit of fresh air.

Heaving a deep, deep sigh my saviour finally spoke, “My name is Pary, buddy. We’re not having any “Majesty” or “Sire” here, okay? At least, where you’re concerned. So, yeah, you can drop the curtsy. As for your condition, you’re fine and you’re not hallucinating. Just don’t panic, okay? We all do have fangs.”

“We’re what you’d generally call…. vampires”, Pary continued in a voice so small that his words felt more like a wisp of lingering whisper.

Sensing my building panic, probably smack all over my face, Pary, hastily added, “Don’t worry. We mean you no harm. You’re safe here. You got to trust me, buddy.”

Seeing distrust and panic dancing overtime in my frozen eyes, Pary desperately lifted his shoulders and muttered,” I mean, we wouldn’t have treated you if we meant otherwise, right?”

Gulping down my saliva rather loudly without meaning to, I respond unconvincingly, “Yeah. Why, indeed?”

Vampires!? Vampires!? I only ever heard of such creatures of the dark cameo in the stories my gran shared in my early teen years plus all those increasingly whimsical-over-the-years movies I binged over. I mean I’ve had my fair of laugh at vampires or at least over the human-imagined version in movies but standing here, I got to admit, it is no laughing matter standing in the presence of these vampires. I can’t even blink, out of nerve-numbing fear. Of all the rotten luck I endured over the years, this situation right here gets the cherry.

My increasingly alert brain, supplemented by loud intakes of precious breath and highly oxygenated blood courtesy of my vigorously thumping heart, simply packed my body with ample adrenaline that I felt a sudden surge of energy. I peered left and right at the windows in the room, looking for potential exits, at record time. Who am I kidding? Of course, there will be no fight. I won’t stand a chance against such formidable beings. No, it will have to be a flight for survival. Even, if it may be a poor attempt against their superpowers.