Caedes

10 | something inside

Thursday, 2:28 P.M.

Mike's previously confused expression was replaced by one of utter disbelief. Clutching the back of his head, he turned to face his assailant almost in slow motion. Realizing he was about to be hit again, Mike raised his arm in self-defense, but he was too late. The clipboard hit him square in the face this time. Judging by his stunned expression, the poor guy still wasn't fully aware of the predicament he was currently in—and Doc Psycho used that to his full advantage.

Studying the clipboard for a second, Doc Psycho seemed to conclude that it wasn't an optimal weapon. Seemingly realizing that there wasn't much else to choose from, he angled it to the side and brought it down on defenseless Mike's forehead with renewed vigor. This time it broke the skin, leaving a bloody gash on impact. Satisfied with the result, Doc Psycho moved to land a fourth blow on a now cowering Mike.

Not this time.

Without thinking, I bounded forward and lunged right at the still-smiling physician. The bloody clipboard fell to the floor with a clatter at the same time as the good doctor's head hit the wall with a sickening crunch.

Shit.

"Argh—" he groaned just as I jumped to my feet.

I sighed in...relief? Or perhaps it was disappointment. I couldn't be sure.

He wasn't dead. He'd be fine, probably. It was hard to feel sorry for the guy when he'd just attacked a defenseless, unsuspecting intern that I happened to consider my friend.

Deep crimson liquid slowly spread underneath his head and his eyes rolled back into his skull. Maybe he wouldn't be fine after all.

Good riddance.

Completely fascinated all of a sudden, I couldn't look away. The blood had almost reached the tips of my combat boots and I still hadn't moved. The bright white hospital lights reflected off of the carmine substance in an almost surreal fashion as it slowly spread around my foot.

That was when I felt it again—that strange sensation from before—only much stronger this time. Something inside me longed for this, relished in it even.

Suddenly, I was no longer standing in the hospital. Sharp rocks poked my backside through a thin layer of some sort of garment covering my body, but I barely took notice of them. It was dark. Too dark to see anything but silhouettes of a rocky landscape and bare bushes. This place, whatever it was, felt foreign and cold.

Clenching my fists, I felt a familiar gel-like substance on my hands. Without looking at them, I knew that this blood was mine even before inhaling the distinct smell of rusty iron.

Shit.

The first thing I noticed after my eyes adjusted to the darkness was the strange smudges on my bare feet. Blood? Let's hope not. Following the trail of dark splotches up my left leg to what was left of my torn shirt, I frowned. Nearly my entire torso was covered in what was hopefully only mud. If it wasn't...

Lightning flashed, illuminating my stomach enough to confirm that the dark substance was indeed red—not brown—and there was a huge gash across my abdomen. Judging by the amount of blood everywhere, it was as deep and lethal as it looked.

Fuck.

Distant thunder drowned out my scream of frustration and somehow that irritated me even more.

Where the hell was I?

How was I still breathing?

Why didn't I feel any pain?

"You're dead, bitch!" The high-pitched, malicious voice of one of the nurses instantly brought me back to reality.