Frozen Flame

3:17 a.m., outer ring of Las Vegas. The windshield wipers beat like a broken metronome. Phoenix Castro floored her red Mustang at one hundred and twenty, the passenger seat holding a triple-cheese pizza and a text that read, *Tonight or we're done.* She typed back a succinct “Go to hell,” then headlights washed over a hearse blocking both lanes. She wrenched the wheel; tires screamed. The world rolled. The last sound was metal tearing itself apart, the air thick with mozzarella, gasoline, and the copper tang of her own blood. 4:05 a.m., Clark County Forensic Center. Cold air slithered across the autopsy table like invisible snakes. “Subject: Phoenix Castro, female, twenty-seven, time of death 03:26, cause of death: blunt-force cranial fracture with high-level spinal transection.” The recorder's blue light blinked in the gloom. Johnny Li pressed pause, scalpel poised for the next incision. Under the halogen lamp, Phoenix's lashes cast a razor-thin shadow— and twitched. They twitched a second time. Johnny's pen clattered to the floor. Phoenix's right hand lifted as if tugged by an unseen thread, clamping onto the snowy cuff of his coat. “Buddy, your AC's set to arctic—lend me some heat.” The voice was hoarse yet unmistakably alive. Johnny's first thought: *Cadavers don't crack jokes.* His second: *Back up—now.* He stumbled backward, spine slamming into a cart—alcohol swabs rained everywhere. His face blanched; fingers fumbled for the intercom, but no words came. His heart slammed against his ribs, every beat a drum of pure terror. Phoenix sat up. Her skull gave a damp click, like an old marionette. “Scream and I'll file a harassment report.” She flicked her hair; a ribbon of blood slid to her lip and vanished beneath her tongue. Johnny dragged in a breath, forcing medical calm, voice still trembling. “You… need to be resutured.” “Mirror first—gotta check if my face survived.” He handed over a stainless-steel reflector. One glance and she cursed. “Limited-edition MAC—wasted!” She pinched the split scalp together as if zipping a jacket. Johnny's brow twitched: 3-0 nylon leaves scars. “Scars are rock-star medals.” His fingers shook, cold crawling up his spine like liquid nitrogen. Ten minutes later, a drawer in the cooler was emptied and lined with a disposable gown. Phoenix sat cross-legged at minus four Celsius, hugging the mangled pizza. “Taste buds are offline, but the ritual stays.” She chewed cold cheese; a dark thread of blood followed. Two meters away, Johnny clutched a clipboard, scrawling Latin gibberish, knuckles white. “Theoretically, you have no gastric motility.” “Theoretically, you should be sprinting for the exit.” She winked; ice crystals powdered her lashes. Johnny's breath came shallow, the room tilting around him. In the blind spot of the corridor camera, Phoenix slipped from the drawer and snatched a lab coat. The lens caught only a white blur gliding toward the restroom. Security screamed over the radio: “Ghost on B1!” Johnny yanked the monitor's plug, voice flat: “Circuit fault.” He turned to see Phoenix using a scalpel as a compact, painting her lips MAC Blood. Steel skimmed skin—no blood, only a lurid streak. Johnny pressed two fingers to his own wrist. Thirty seconds, sixty-six beats—BPM 132, sixty percent above normal. Cold sweat traced his temples; the thud of his heart filled the hallway. Johnny's fingers left a damp trail on the surgical gown, his mind a chaotic mess, thoughts buzzing like a disturbed hive. He didn't know what he was thinking or what he should do. All he knew was that this was beyond his understanding and control. “Doctor?” Phoenix's voice had softened, as if soothing a frightened animal, “You're stuck?” Johnny's Adam's apple bobbed, his voice stuck in his throat. He could only nod frantically. Phoenix let out a short, self-mocking laugh, “What do we do now? From your professional experience, should we just wait for dawn?” “Wait... wait for what?” Johnny's voice finally escaped, dry and trembling. “Wait for someone to discover my resurrection.” Phoenix spread her hands, a new crack appearing in the scab on her wrist, “What do you think?” The morgue's chill bit into Johnny's back like needles. He forced himself to look at Phoenix, meeting her direct gaze. “I... I don't know.” He heard himself say, his voice sounding like a stranger's. The smile on Phoenix's face froze, the blood draining from her lips. She turned away, her hair covering half her face, “Should I just go back into the freezer?” “No.” Johnny blurted out, surprising even himself. Phoenix raised an eyebrow, silent. Johnny's Adam's apple rolled again before he managed to continue, “But... but you can't stay here.” “Oh?” Phoenix arched a brow, “Then where should I go?” “I...” Johnny opened his mouth, then closed it. He didn't know. Phoenix laughed again, short and crisp, “You really are a useless coroner.” Johnny choked, his back hitting the instrument cart. He grabbed a bottle of iodine, not even looking at the label before pouring it onto Phoenix's wound, “At least let's treat the wound.” Phoenix hissed as the iodine stung, but didn't flinch, “You nervous? Never seen a zombie apply ointment?” “Shut up!” Johnny's hand trembled, spilling iodine down her side, “Don't... don't distract me.” Phoenix obediently shut her mouth, though her shoulders still shook. Johnny looked up, catching her eyes, which were twinkling with suppressed laughter. “Your face looks like you've seen a ghost.” She quipped. Johnny: “...” “You certainly look like you've seen a ghost.” Phoenix laughed again, pointing to her own forehead, “But I'm the ghost.” Johnny's cotton ball slipped off. He took a deep breath, his voice rising involuntarily, “Stop joking! We need to figure something out!” Phoenix's hand steadied his wrist at the last second, “Alright, you tell me.” Johnny froze for a second, realizing he'd been cornered again. He took a deep breath, pressing the cotton ball back onto her wound, “First, we can't let anyone find out you're alive.” “How?” “Second, we need to find a place to hide you.” “Where? If the body disappears, won't that raise suspicion?” Johnny was stumped again. He looked up, meeting Phoenix's smirking eyes. “Don't look at me.” He averted his gaze, “I don't know.” Phoenix laughed, this time without holding back, her laughter ringing like a wind chime, “You really are a useless and boring coroner.” Johnny: “Shut up.” Just as Johnny was struggling to gather his thoughts, there was a knock on the morgue door. “Dr. Johnny, are you in there?” It was the voice of the duty nurse, Emily, urgent. Johnny's heart sank. He could feel Phoenix's gaze on his back. “Quick, get in the freezer.” He whispered to Phoenix, his voice trembling. Phoenix didn't hesitate, quickly climbing into the refrigerated drawer and closing the door. “Coming.” Johnny called out, his voice unnaturally steady. He quickly straightened his clothes, trying to look more professional. Emily pushed open the door and walked in. Her face was flushed, clearly from running. “Johnny, I heard something's off here.” Johnny forced himself to stay calm, “N-nothing's wrong. Just a minor equipment malfunction.” Emily's gaze swept over his face, then landed on the refrigerated drawer. Her brow furrowed slightly, “Are you sure? I heard someone saw something strange.” Johnny's heart sank further. He knew Emily had always had a bit of a crush on him, but he didn't need that right now. “Really, it's just a small issue.” He tried to sound calm, “I've already taken care of it.” Emily's gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then slowly relaxed. A smile spread across her face, “That's good. I was just worried about you.” Johnny's heartbeat slowed a bit, but he knew Emily wouldn't leave so easily. “Thanks for your concern.” He tried to sound sincere, “But I'm really fine.” Emily nodded, but her gaze still didn't leave him. Her voice had a hint of flirtation, “That's good. I wouldn't know what to do if something happened to you.” Johnny's heart raced again, feeling Phoenix's eyes on him from inside the drawer. “I'm fine, really. You should go back, everything's fine here.” Emily's gaze lingered on his face for a moment, then she smiled, “Alright. I'll go then. If you get cold, I'll bring you a jacket.” Her voice was soft, with a barely perceptible hint of shyness. Johnny's heart tightened, as if something was lodged in his throat. He forced a smile, “No need, I'm quite warm here.” He waved his hand, as if shooing something away, “You should go back, don't worry anyone.” Emily nodded, a flash of disappointment crossing her face before she quickly composed herself. “Alright then. If you need anything, just give me a call.” She turned, gently closing the door behind her, her footsteps fading away. The morgue fell silent once more, filled only with Johnny's labored breathing and the faint hum of the refrigerated drawer. Johnny let out a sigh of relief, turning just in time to see movement from the drawer. He spun around to see Phoenix's head emerging from the freezer, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You sure know how to put on a show.” Her voice was laced with teasing and a hint of jealousy, “That little nurse sure has a thing for you. Maybe you should consider it?” She climbed out of the drawer, brushing the frost from her clothes, walking up to Johnny and looking up at him, “Maybe she could help you out of this big mess.” Johnny's face flushed a deep red, stammering, “You... you're talking nonsense. She's just a colleague, and... and I'm not thinking about anything like that.” He took a step back, trying to put some distance between them, but Phoenix stepped forward, their noses almost touching. “Oh? Is that so?” Phoenix raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on her lips, “Then why were you so nervous? Were you afraid she'd find me here and then you'd have to explain why a corpse is working with you?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, “Or maybe you're afraid she'll find out you have feelings for me and get jealous?” She deliberately drew out the last word, her voice dripping with teasing. Johnny's face turned even redder, lowering his head, avoiding Phoenix's eyes. “I... I don't.” He muttered quietly, his voice tinged with frustration, “I just didn't want her to find you, it would make things more complicated.” Phoenix let out a derisive “tsk,” stepping back, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes filled with disdain. “Come on, I've seen right through your little game.” She sized Johnny up and down, “You're just afraid she'll find out you're with a corpse and think you're a freak.” She shook her head, her tone laced with mock pity, “What a pity, you can't even handle a corpse, what else can you do?”