Naked Came the Vampire (Hypernaturals 1)

Waking Up

I was not happy to return to reality because I was in paradise. Nirvana. My idea of heaven.

Suddenly, unreasonably and unceremoniously I appeared in a hospital bed. I tried to retreat back to the boat and Jessica but it was no good. I had been ejected from that world and drawn back into the one that did not have her in it anymore.

In this awful cold, antiseptic place, it was night. I could hear a heart monitor beeping along very slowly. Peeling open gummy eyes, I blinked a few times to clear them. I looked over at where the sounds came from. Usual blue medical monitor box on a pole. The display showed my blood oxygen percentage at 99%, my heart rate 69 and my blood pressure 105/69. 

I smiled at the Dystolic number. As sexual positions go, that one is overrated. Better to take turns so you can focus. Jessica agreed with me on that. Jessica said she "...preferred 68. You do me, and I'll owe you one." Or is that dreamland Jessica? Crap. Which is which? 68 is how we started. Did that happy memory carry into the dreams?

My heart rate is slower than normal. Usually, my resting rate is about 72, and that is if I have been working out every other day for weeks on end. 75 is more common when I have not been a good boy. At the end of the whole situation with Vera, I did not take my stress out at the gym as I should have.

Thinking about Vera hurt less than just about anything else. Jessica saw to that.

While I was gone bacteria built some condos along the frontage of my teeth. My throat felt raw, probably because of the feeding tube and O2 mask. My right arm stung and ached from a spike in it, attached to an IV, that ran through the metering machine to several bags of clear fluid. I felt a catheter. Moving around is going to require major tubal orchestration.

The light coming in from the hall seemed very bright around the mostly closed door. I looked around, found the clock on the wall by the TV set. 3:23. Clearly, AM. Or perhaps the world really did end? What happened? How long have I been here? Which hospital is this?

I heard beeping next to me and guessed that on the other side of the curtain to my right there is another bed, and another sleeping person hooked up like I am. It smelled of death over their way. I must be in the terminal patients' ward.

I vaguely at the house giving up to the peace of sleep. Daniel trying to wake me in a panic. I remembered the lazy days and passionate nights with Jessica, though it seems it to all be dreams now.

I did not have a watch on so I could not check the date. I looked closely at the heart monitor and found a date/time stamp on it. The machine needed to know the date because it would time stamp each B/P reading.

Eight days. I have been gone from this mortal plane for eight days. No wonder I feel stiff. I wondered if I have bed sores from laying still that long.

I hunted for the bed control or the nurse call button, but it appears they did not think I needed one. That did not speak well for what shape I must have been in. They did not expect me to return to the land of the desolate living anytime soon. I've been here eight days. I could wait for someone to make their rounds. It's not like I have to worry about wetting the bed.

At a little after 4 AM, according to both the wall clock and the pulse monitor, the door opened, and a small framed woman came in. The light from the hall spilled blindingly along my bed, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

She saw me watching her, came over and whispered "Well, look at you! Awake at last!"

I nodded. It's hard to talk with a feeding tube in your throat.

She smiled and pulled the stethoscope from around her neck. "Let me listen to you and see how your lungs are" She pressed a foot control, and the bed tipped up. I leaned forward while she listened to some things along my back. She repeated this along my chest and looked satisfied.