//------------------------------// // The Hospital // Story: Blood // by Terrasora //------------------------------// Octavia was burning. Every part of her was on fire, searing pain coursing through her veins. She was moving; she was certain of that, but it didn't matter. Octavia could not move fast or far enough to escape the pain. The fire burned hotter as time passed, slowly devouring the little consciousness she had. The sirens of the coming police cars, the sound of feet slapping against pavement, the urgent whispers of two unintelligible voices, we're all drowned by the pain. It seemed an eternity before the pain retreated. The change was sudden, one moment debilitating heat and the next a comfortable warmth. But the pain had taken its toll. Octavia did not even have the strength to sigh in relief, she simply dropped into sleep. "Is she out?" asked Vinyl. Lyra leaned in, listening to Octavia’s breath. Still slightly erratic, but deeper than before. "Yeah, just sleeping. Hand me those bandages." Vinyl tossed the box of bright pink bandages. Lyra caught it, applying one of them to a fresh cut on her arm. She drew her shirt back into place. "You know," began Lyra, "you should really be the one doing this." "You're better at it than I am. Hell, you got me through it just fine." Lyra frowned slightly. "I suppose so." A pause. The only sound in the room was Octavia’s breathing. "Sooo," said Vinyl, "what do we do now?" Lyra's frown deepened. "I'm not sure." She regarded Octavia for a moment. "This one's thrown a bit of a wrench into things. We should take her back to Everfree." "But?" "But we haven't finished business here." "We can't just leave her alone." "No. No we can't." Lyra sighed, rubbing at her eyes. "How long until morning?" Vinyl crossed the small room, peeking through a heavily curtained window. The sky had lightened substantially. "I'd give it an hour or two." Lyra thought for a moment. "Head to sleep. We'll do four hour shifts to watch over this one." "We should really learn her name." "Fair point." Lyra leaned over Octavia once more, quickly and gently going through her pockets. "No ID," she muttered. "Let's call her Police Girl." "That's a terrible name for a vampire." Vinyl shrugged. "I like it." Lyra shook her head, then turned her attention back to Octavia. She reached out, quickly undoing the bowtie before moving on to the shirt's buttons. "Woah!" shouted Vinyl. "Buy her dinner first, Ly!" Lyra scowled, gently easing Octavia out of her shirt. She tossed it at Vinyl. "I don't want blood anywhere near her when she wakes up. That shirt's covered in it. Burn that before the sun comes up." Vinyl held the shirt up. The entire right side was red with drying blood. The smell was immense. Vinyl closed her eyes, balling up the shirt and tossing it over her shoulder. "Yeah, no problem. Next time you do something like that, though, can you do it... slower?" "Shut up, Vinyl." Vinyl snickered, climbing to her feet and walking towards the discarded shirt. "Don't let anyone see you," said Lyra. "Yeah, yeah." "And bring back a blanket!"   *** The fire flared, then died, then flared again. Octavia had rather gotten used to her circumstances. The ebb and flow of pain was not comfortable, but it was bearable. Slowly but surely, Octavia climbed her way up to lucidity. Opening her eyes was beyond her, but her other senses returned. Touch came first. Something had been draped over Octavia. A blanket. A blanket that smelled lightly of mildew and damp, but a blanket nonetheless, and Octavia was grateful for the gift. Then came hearing. At first, Octavia did not realize that she could hear again; so quiet was wherever she currently lay. She could, in the depths of her delirium, remember a pair of hushed, warped voices, but those voices did not sound. Only the slight sound of cloth scraping skin, magnified a hundred times by a pounding headache, revealed that someone else sat with Octavia. The pain flared again, a pressure slowly building behind Octavia’s eyes. It felt as though her head would be crushed, caught in some iron grip that tightened with every passing moment. Octavia let out a weak cry, the first sound she’d made since— A sudden, stabbing pain shot through Octavia. Her back arched and she let out another cry, louder this time. In some far-gone corner of her mind, Octavia heard a yell, followed by the sound of feet smacking against ground. The pair of voices returned, one of them speaking in a hushed, comforting tone, the other barking commands. Another stab, this one a twisting knife that sent Octavia into spasms. She felt hands hold her head, felt something warm and sticky and smelling of putrid sweetness trickle onto her lips. Then the world went black. *** “Lyra!” Vinyl held up the woman’s head, trying to keep her in place, applying as much pressure as she dared. Octavia writhed in pain, letting out a torrent of cries. “Lyra, get the fuck out here!” Lyra stormed into the room, dressed in her sleeping clothes. She paused slightly at the sight of Octavia and Vinyl, her eyes widening. Then she ran, sliding into place on the side opposite of Vinyl. “This doesn’t make sense,” muttered Lyra, eyes roaming over the woman, “the blood shouldn’t be taking this quickly.” “Well it is!” Octavia flailed, one of her hands cracking against Vinyl’s face. Vinyl reeled back, cheek quickly turning red. “Shit, she’s fucking strong!” “Calm down, Vinyl.” “I’m calm!” shouted Vinyl hysterically. “If I was any calmer, I’d be dead!” “Fantastic. Keep holding her still.” Lyra brought her wrist to her mouth, holding it against a wickedly sharp fang. She slid it across her wrist. Not a deep cut, but blood was flowing. “Still, Vinyl, hold her still!” “I’m trying!” "Try harder!" “If I try any harder, I’ll cave her skull in!” “Calm her down, then!” shouted Lyra in frustration. A single drop of blood traced its way down her arm. “Calm her—What the hell are you talking about?!” “Just talk to her or something!” “Are you joking?!” Lyra glared, shouting a few choice words that surmounted to “No, I am most certainly not joking.” Vinyl, fearing for whatever life she had left, leaned in towards the woman. “Hey,” she began hesitantly. Octavia gave a particularly hard spasm at the sound of her voice. “Still, Vinyl.” “I know, shut up!” Vinyl took a deep breath, then turned back to the prone woman. “Look, I know it sucks. It feels like every part of you is burning. When I went through it, all I could think about was the pain. I wouldn’t have been able to hear some random chick trying to calm me down, but Lyra told me to do it, and Lyra normally knows what she’s talking about.” Vinyl took hold of Octavia’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “But we can help you. Or, Lyra can. Hell, she got me through it. But I broke her nose. It was pretty sweet.” Lyra flexed her wrist, forcing more blood to seep out. “Open her mouth,” she told Vinyl. Vinyl nodded, letting go of Octavia’s arm and carefully parting her lips. Octavia groaned slightly as her mouth was forced open, but offered no further resistance. Lyra hung her wrist in the air just above Octavia’s mouth, allowing a few drops of blood to fall into place. Octavia gulped it down eagerly. The thrashing lessened, growing calmer until it stopped altogether. Vinyl let out a breath. “Holy shit. Was it like that when I changed?” “No. You were worse.” Lyra adjusted herself, coaxing more blood out of her wound. “Bonnie and I tried talking to calm you down, but you were completely gone. We had to tie you up.” “And I wasn’t even awake for it.” Lyra laughed lightly. The two sat in silence for a time, eyes fixed on the woman. “She could hear me?” asked Vinyl. Lyra nodded. “Semi-lucid state. This entire experience will feel like a dream to her once she’s awake. That is, if she remembers anything about it.” “Do you remember yours?” A sharp glance at Vinyl. “You’re chatty today.” Vinyl shrugged. “I just felt like talking.” "There are other things to worry about,” replied Lyra firmly. “Bring over a few gauze rolls.” “You don’t have to be so pissed about it.” “Bring over the gauze, please.” Vinyl nodded, quickly crossing over to the other room. As soon as Vinyl turned out of sight, Lyra turned her attention to the other woman in the room. She pulled back Octavia’s blankets with her free hand, exposing her neck. The two deep, circular wounds had healed in the 20 or so hours the woman had been in Lyra and Vinyl’s care, but they had not disappeared fully. And if they haven’t healed by now, thought Lyra with a small, sad frown, they’ll probably scar over. “Lyra!” called Vinyl from the other room. “I can’t find the gauze!” “Check the dresser on the left!” “I have!” “Check again!” Lyra continued her search, looking at the other side of the woman’s neck, her wrists, and her palms in turn. Lyra paused slightly at Octavia’s left hand. There was a slight discoloration on the woman’s ring finger, a lightening at the very base of the digit. “Shit,” muttered Lyra. “Found it!” called Vinyl. Lyra moved quickly, throwing the blanket back into place just as Vinyl stepped back into the room. “It was all the way in the back of the drawer; pretty much everything else got in the way. How’d it even get there?” “No idea.” Lyra slowly retracted her wrist, allowing a few more drops of blood to fall into Octavia’s mouth before bringing it away altogether. Octavia groaned slightly, tossing and turning at the absence, but nothing close to her state from a few minutes before. Lyra began rolling the gauze over her wound. “She looks better,” remarked Vinyl. “She’ll last for now, but she’ll still need blood. More blood than we have at the moment.” Vinyl smiled uncertainly. “Are we heading out?” “Indeed.” Lyra turned to look at Octavia. “She probably shouldn’t drink any more vampiric blood, either way. There’s a hospital a few blocks down that we could sneak a few bags out of.” “How much do we need?” Lyra paused slightly, thinking of something. “About twelve pints for her, though it wouldn’t hurt to take a few extra. Fifteen, to be safe.” Vinyl looked towards Octavia. “And what about her?” Lyra got to her feet, crossing into the next room. She returned a moment later, a white long-sleeved shirt pulled over her sleeping top. “Stay here. I can head to the hospital on my own.” A pause. “You want me to stay?” “Yes.” “Like… without you here?” “Yes, Vinyl.” Lyra pulled her vest over her dress shirt. “O-Okay. I guess I’ll just… You don’t want me to go to the hospital with you?” “No. I want you to watch over that one and nothing else.” Vinyl deflated, her bottom lip pouting outwards. “That sounds boring.” “Deal with it.” Lyra turned on her heels, striding across the room and through the doorway. Vinyl caught only a glimpse of the outside before the door slammed shut again. “Fan-fucking-tastic,” muttered Vinyl. She turned towards the unconscious woman. “Wanna chat about something?” Octavia groaned softly. “That’s what I thought." Vinyl sat in place for a few moments, hands tapping a rhythmic beat on the floor. Then she stood, walking around the room in a loose circle, fingers occasionally brushing against the cold, battered plaster walls. “You know,” Vinyl said to no one in particular, “this is actually Lyra’s place. Like, she owns the deed or whatever. And she might have built it herself. Can’t really remember if that’s true; I was eating a really good sandwich while she was talking. At least, it looked really good.” Octavia tossed slightly in her sleep, kicking away the blanket that covered her. Vinyl sighed, slumping into place next to the woman and pulling the blanket back into place. “I really hope you’re better at talking when you’re not unconscious.” *** Lyra strode through the hospital’s hallways, a frantic lilt in her steps, her hair dishevelled, and a white coat tossed over her slightly wrinkled clothes. She held a clipboard in one hand, an assortment of random and brightly colored papers stacked atop it, and a small black box in the other. Not one person challenged Lyra as she worked her way through the hospital, heading into the basement. Lyra slowed slightly as she came to a rather large steel door. A single handle stuck out on the door’s left side and, right next to the handle, sat a small black box. She reached into her stolen coat, withdrawing a small, yellow card with a picture of a doctor who looked nothing like Lyra. A shuffling sound came from within the refrigerator. Lyra drew back swiftly, flattening herself on the wall next to the door. She waited. One breath. Two. Everything was quiet. Lyra took a tentative step away from the wall, drawing quietly towards the steel door. There was a draft here, a steady breeze of frigid air. The refrigerator was open; cracked open just enough for it not to lock, but open nonetheless. More shuffling. The sound of steps taken with dragging feet. Two possibilities ran through Lyra’s head. It could be a human, one of the faculty inspecting something within the refrigerator. Or it could be something not human; something like Lyra. She didn’t like either of these options. The shuffling sound continued, occasionally followed by a quiet mumble. Lyra stood just outside the door, keeping her breath even and quiet, waiting for whatever was in there to finish whatever it was doing. She crouched, arms slightly open, eyes focused on the doorway, unaware of the light steps trailing their way down the stairwell leading into the room. The door creaked open. Lyra whirled around, catching a glimpse of a young woman with bright pink hair, wearing a nurse’s uniform and a confused expression. The nurse blinked, getting over the sight of what seemed to be a randomly crouched doctor. She opened her mouth to speak. Shit, thought Lyra. “Excu—” began the nurse. Lyra dove forward, one hand shooting out and covering the nurse’s mouth, the other chopping softly into the human’s neck. The nurse’s eyes went wide for a moment, then flat; the light of consciousness had abruptly left them. Lyra crouched again, now burdened with the nurse’s limp body. The steel door had not moved. The shuffling sound continued. Lyra allowed herself a mental sigh of relief, gently tucking the nurse in a corner. After a bit of maneuvering, the nurse was, more or less, hidden from view. With that job done, Lyra crept back towards the refrigerator door, sliding silently into place. Alright, she thought, let’s get this over with. Lyra pressed forward, placing one eye over the slight crack of the open door, peeking into the refrigerator. A tall, thin figure stood on the other side of the fridge, slowly shuffling from place to place. His hair was jet black, his skin deathly pale, his clothing tattered and patched. Occasionally, the man would slowly reach out, taking hold of a bag of blood and drawing it to his nose. Lyra could hear the faintest sound of the figure inhaling. The bag fell slightly lower. The figure’s jaw opened slowly, as though the action pained him. Then he bit down. Suddenly, the smell of blood, human blood filled the room. Lyra had to grit her teeth to keep her composure. Her grip on the refrigerator’s handle tightened. If she was going to make a move, it would have to be now, while the other vampire was distracted by his meal. Smack. The sound of a step directly behind her. No creaking door. The nurse had come through. Lyra hadn’t closed the door. Lyra whirled, spinning and twisting as best she could. She felt something bit into her side, smelled the sweet, rotten scent of vampire blood mix with the human blood. Another figure, this one larger, stronger than the first, holding a steel dagger in his hand. Shit, thought Lyra.