Scourge // Felix Volturi

Chapter 2: Dr Cullen

The hospital that stood before me was small; it was one level, and it consisted of an emergency room, a few doctors' offices, a wing dedicated to surgery, and a gym that was designated for physical and occupational therapy. It was nothing like the hospital that I had worked for in Boston. That had been seven stories high and each floor catered to a different specialty or a group of interconnected ones.

Thunder boomed across the darkening sky, and I hurried into the building. The floors consisted of polished tile, the color of sand, and the walls were white. There were a few vending machines at the entrance, along with a collection of wheelchairs and stretchers.

The automated doors opened and I stepped into the hospital. I wiped my heels on the mat and smiled when I saw receptionist. Her head was down and I could hear the clicking and clacking of the keyboard keys.

"Hello," I said, walking up to the desk.

The woman's head snapped up and she looked at me through a thick pair of glasses. Her white hair had been smoothed back into a tight bun, and when she turned to look at me, the skin of her face pulled. Who needed a face lift when you had industrial strength hair ties?

"Hello," she replied, pushing the glasses up her nose. "May I help you?"

"I have an interview with Dr Davies at one o'clock."

The receptionist peered at me through the top of her glasses, and after a minute, she pointed to a small lounge area that looked out into the parking lot. "Take a seat. I'll call him for you."

"Thank you."

I grabbed my purse and took a seat, crossing my legs. While waiting, I removed my resume and reference letters from my purse. Unlike most people, I found interviews to be riveting; I liked proving myself to people, and I liked the competition that came with being chosen for a job over someone else.

And when it came to something that I wanted, I would do anything in my power to get it. But there were exceptions, one of them was that I refused to be someone that I wasn't. People either loved me for that trait, or they detested me. I wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but that didn't bother me. There were more important things to worry about than whether or not someone liked me.

"Hello, Ms Swan?" a kind, tenor voice called out.

I turned around and stared at the man behind me. He was tall and his cornsilk hair was neatly pushed away from his face. His eyes were gold, like polished citrines, and the white doctor's coat made his pale skin seem paler.

"Hello, I'm Dr Cullen." He introduced, walking around my chair. "Dr Davies was pulled into the operating room, so I will be the one interviewing you. Is that all right with you?"

"Of course."

I uncrossed my legs and slowly stood up. My skirt fell back to my knees and I carefully smoothed down the black fabric. Dr Cullen held out his hand, motioning for me to join him, and when I reached his side, he began walking down the hallway.

Click! Click! Click!

With every step, my hair bounced and my purse brushed against my hip. I kept an eye on Dr Cullen and scrutinized him. He looked like Edward Cullen; same marble-pale skin, golden eyes, and sharp features. They had to be related, but I couldn't figure out how. Dr Cullen was young, mid-twenties at most, so that made Edward being his child highly improbable. Perhaps Edward was his nephew.

We turned right, then left, and we reached a brightly lit hallway. There were a total of four offices, two on either side of the carpeted hallway, and Dr Cullen's was the last one on the right. He held open the door for me and I thanked him.