Part 18: Some People Love to Watch the World Burn

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Patrick's POV:

Her eyes were glued to my face as a smile curled onto her lips. Our fingers were tangled together. The only sounds we could hear was the buzzing of the ceiling fan in the hallway and the occasional cough from another room.
"You good?" I asked.

"Mhm. Are you hungry or anything? The nurse was supposed to come back in here after taking out your feeding tube. The hospital is a bit short on staff, though, so I can understand that it might take a little longer. Still. You need food."

"It's fine. I can tough it out, El."
"I'll go check if there's any food in the cafeteria. Just stay put."
She kissed my forehead and walked off down the hallway. I was too lucky to have her in my life, but I couldn't give her much in return.

She obviously wanted some kind of intimate relationship with me, but I was incapable of fulfilling the boyfriend role for her. Even if I did like her in the way she liked me, the vampire apocalypse that suddenly seemed to be among us would've caused major problems for the future of said relationship. Elisa deserved far better than someone who couldn't possibly even defend her, let alone defend himself, against a vampire. Twenty minutes passed since she last left. I knew the hospital floors spread across some fairly large amount of space, but it was an unusually long time for her to have been gone.

I sat up, tossing my rigid legs over the side of the bed, giving the old limbs a good stretch. An ear-piercing scream ringing from down the hallway caused my stomach to somersault.
"Elisa?!" I called.
The stomping of feet grew louder, and I saw her figure rush into the room, attempting to close the door behind her, but whoever had been chasing her was too strong, too unwilling to let go. My knees gave out when I tried to stand and rush over to help her.

Sweat piled at her forehead. Tears stained her flushed cheeks. I crawled to a chair to haul myself up, but it was too late. The sound of the crash ricocheted off the walls; Elisa was tackled into the medical supplies next to my bed. A blond man had torn lines down her skin and sunk his teeth into her neck. I didn't try to help her, didn't try to fight him off.

My instincts were to go while I had the chance, and I did. I ran like a coward, left her to die because I believed my life held more value than hers. The haunting image of her eyes pleading up at me flashed into my mind multiple times in quick succession until the last one shook me awake. Tears were already falling from my eyes as my body jolted into a sitting position. Andy ran to my bedside, throwing his arms around my frame.

"It's over," he said, "No one's going to hurt you."
Joe sat on the other side of me and rubbed circles into my lower back.
"Another nightmare?" he asked.
I could only nod. He sighed and pulled Andy aside.

Though they were in another room and talking in hushed voices, I could hear them speaking.
"That's the fifth one this week," Joe stated.

"I know, but what can we do about it? He's sensitive about death and all."
"We see death all the time."
"Don't tell me if I were to die like that you wouldn't be traumatized."

"Andy, I love you. If someone killed you I'd die going in guns blazing on that fucking hideout."
"Cute," Andy said, sarcastically, "But this serious. He needs closure or something. How is he going to help us fight if he can barely keep himself together?"

"I don't know. Honestly, I'm not even sure how the two of us are still kicking. Those vampires really did a number on us last time."
"Well, I guess we just have to stick it through and see if he comes around," Andy replied.

For hours I laid in bed with a blank mind, looking at the ceiling. My parents had called the other night and said they were coming by today to pick me up. They had been worried sick about me ever since I ended up in the hospital, and they didn't want me staying at the bookstore anymore. Joe and Andy were "guarding" me in the meantime. I told them I didn't need protection, but as soon as they heard from me they insisted that they stay.

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