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Chapter 6: Meeting The Doctor

Chapter 6: Meeting The Doctor

SIX

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MEETING THE DOCTOR

☱☷☲☳☶☵☴☴☰☶☲☳☷☶☴

By now the pressure that was trying to escape through my skin had become so intense that I could swear it was affecting the size and shape of my muscles. As I felt this rather interesting sensation, her eyes were changing to the same bright white light as her hand.

She tilted her head up, ramming her right hand into the ground at the same time. The ground started to shake uncontrollably, the light beginning to seep out of the cracks of the pavements.

Suddenly, I was forced to jump as the light came through where I was standing, a half-inch of it getting to the end of my pinkie finger. I didn’t feel the insubstantial injury at first, too busy gauchely scrambling away from the light. However, the feeling grew exponentially, forcing me to become aware. I looked down at my finger, a small but clean cut on the end of it. Not only that, but it felt reminiscent of a sort of burning sensation. That explained the lack of blood as it would have been cauterized as soon as it was cut.

Let me explain something about my lack of pain: I can tell when something is supposed to hurt. It just feels like a constant pressure on the affected area. Generally, the more intense the pressure, the more damage that has been caused. Although burning feels more like an itch than a pressure. Now, this pressure was acting up to extents that had me entertaining the possibility of losing my life. Thankfully, it was quickly replaced by the irritation stemming from not knowing what was going on and a pertinacious enjoyment in the fact that I had temporarily alleviated my boredom. This was fun.

I kept jumping from place to place, constantly on the move, because as soon as the tip of my footwear touched the floor, the light started to come through. The more time passed, the more obvious the locations she found hard to reach with her light. Contrary to what I had expected, her optimal range was mid-range rather than short. Anything closer than around five meters or further than thirty took almost three times as long to react to my repositioning. But despite finding some clues to her abilities, her attacks remained relentless, seemingly immortal in their pursuit.

I decided the only way to stop it is to attack the girl directly. After some mental preparation and a brief spell of forced patience as I tried to find an opening, one appeared on her right side as she turned to keep me in front. As quick as possible with my approach and just mere meters away, the light made a circular wall of about a meter radius surrounded her, cutting off my advance.

I backed away as fast as I could, knowing how much damage the light could cause. Before I even had time to process what was happening, I had to jump to avoid the light again, my body and mind operating on reactionary impulses.

I kept doing so for what I would stake my life on were hours and I began to question why we had not seen anyone passing through the area. The fatigue was accumulating, growing into a figurative weight that I could physically feel. Sensing impending doom, and still without a method to stop it, I finally resorted to escape.

Despite the bemusing circumstances, I had enough clarity to head towards the hospital and scoop up several smooth stones I happened to see before sprinting up the grassy hill that led to the hospital plains and away from the psychotic killer.

After a few seconds, I whipped around from the waist and used to momentum to haul one of the stones at her. Finding her still rooted in her position, my aim was ruined by my belief that she would give chase, the pebble flying way over her head.

For the sake of my stamina and just to be prudent, I kept my speed below maximum, hoping I could use it to surprise her — given the opportunity.

But more importantly, I was far enough to see that the force field around her faded the higher it went before abruptly ending. Essentially, there was a circular opening about 15 feet above where she was standing. Although it was significantly high, I started to ponder the possibilities. Bearing in mind my newfound abilities, yes, I might.

I grasped the remaining energy I had left and jumped just close enough to avoid the shield. Considering I was close, and she didn’t notice my attempt, her eyes must have become something other than a tool to enable sight. This was further reinforced by the vacant look in her gaze. Before I could consider that further, the light began to come through where I was standing, forcing me to take one last big leap to the top.

As I flew higher and higher, her face seemed to become more agitated, appearing as though she had lost track of me. I thought of the possibility that she used her eyes to sense pressure on the ground. Normally, such a thought would incite questions of sanity. That’s if normal physics and what I previously considered common sense were applied. But I was adapting, as I am want to do.

Meters from the end of the force field I started to lose speed rapidly. I could see I was going to cut it close. In a split second, I decided to risk my hand and use it as the final piece of leverage needed, hoping the light would be of a solid variant. That would have been a question for sanity too, if I hadn’t witnessed the light cut my finger earlier, alluding to its corporeal mass. I just hoped at that moment that the light was blunt enough that the pressure wouldn’t instantly cut through my hand. That would defeat the purpose.

Just as I was about to grab for it, my hand was covered by black and grey iridescent flames that moved like turbulent waters. Sceptical of its properties, but without the liberty to hesitate, I continued to reach for the shield with my flame ridden hand.

Thankfully, no damage was inflicted on my hand and glancing at the section I used as leverage, the bright light was actually slowly succumbing to the traces of the black flame I left behind — almost as if the flame was consuming the light.

By the time I fell halfway down, she was fully aware of the situation, raising her head to look at me with contempt. Her eyes had already lost the luminescent quality they had, and she looked to be extremely weak — sweat dripping off her brow, eyelids bobbing like turbulent waves.

I dropped onto her shoulders and wrapped my legs around her neck without much resistance, using my hands to grab her wrists, attempting all I could to restrict her movements. It took but a moment for her to fall.

Waited for her retaliation, I maintained my concentration and my hold. But even after a few minutes, she lay still within my grasp. Taking a calculated risk, I loosened my grip only to find her arms drop to the ground, unresponsive. Checking her eyes, her pupils had retreated and only the whites were visible, confirming that she had fainted. Whatever she had just done took a lot more out of her than had first appeared.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

As her head lay on my lap and I attempted to recuperate from the string of strange occurrences that I’d endured, I also tried to think of what exactly my next course of action should be. There were no apparent answers.

That’s when I remembered I was probably hours late for the hospital appointment that Adriana had. I looked at my watch to estimate the severity of the situation, but my watch was broken, telling me only 5 minutes had passed but that wasn’t possible. Was it? I might’ve just broken a promise, to fulfil another.

I decided to carry the girl on my back and go to the hospital anyway as she would need some medical attention. I was exhausted, almost out of energy, and feeling like my body was running on fumes. Predictably, it took me a long time just to get to the bus stop, trudging the short yet arduous distance. I struggled onto the bus heading to the hospital, garnering stares every step of the way.

Like most, the bus was of the double-decker variety, sporting the bright red paint and blue seats common to London's public transport. To avoid people’s ravenous curiosity, I made my way to the back of the upper deck where it was relatively emptier, noting both my fatigue and the ease in which I carried her there.

As I sat there with a mysterious girl leaning on my shoulder, my mind went back to what had just happened, again. The endless questions in my head were increasing in numbers too quickly and I knew I had a treasure trove of answers coming my way. So, I concentrating on the landscape which didn’t work too well. London isn’t known for its picturesque topography, at least the parts I lived in. I looked back down at her face, seeing the endless possibilities she represented.

The bus ride seemed further than usual, taking me longer to get there than I anticipated. It would have been convenient if the girl was awake, although that wasn’t looking likely any time soon, her eyes remaining obstinately vacant. Calling for an ambulance might have been a better option, except I didn’t want to risk them causing me to lose track of her. Unfamiliar with how they operate, they could end up taking her to an alternate hospital, forgoing the closer one. And I wasn’t willing to risk that. She had answers that I needed.

That’s another thing. The motivations for actions is relatively easy to understand once given the hierarchy of values it is operating on. What I always found interesting, is how people view the difference between a want, and a need. ‘Need’, by my definition, is simply a want predicated on another want, namely survival. So, yeah, I guess what I'm trying to say is, at the time, I didn’t know if the answers she had were something I needed, or something I wanted. In any case, I wasn’t looking to take chances.

When it came time to get off the bus, I resituated her on my back and lumbered down towards the exit, carefully climbing down the precariously narrow stairs. Although I was recuperating slowly, my body was still significantly fatigued, making her low weight and the bus stop being so close to the hospital entrance, a godsend.

The hospital was located in the middle of a rather isolated area, mostly comprised of vast fields of grass spattered with garbage, a sort of dumping site for the locals. There were still signs of modern civilization as you could see the dense architecture of the more populated sections of the city spattered across the horizon. The hospital, as a whole, was clinical in appearance. It encompassed a collection of large, white, concrete cuboids arranged arbitrarily and surrounded by a metallic fence topped with barbed wire.

With her still on my back, I made my way into the hospital through the main entrance. The reception was across directly ahead of me. An area largely covered by the waiting area was to my right and a pair of elevators in-between a pair of stairs, one heading down and the other up, was on my left.

Having little energy to spare, I made a beeline for the waiting area, dropping her on the first few empty seats that I found. Seeing my new friend slumping, prone and unconscious on the seat, a shirt, black nurse with a homely demeanour approached. Thankfully, she showed no signs of being suspicious of us. Or more specifically, me. She did, however, have questions.

“Tell me what happened?” The nurse demanded in a worried tone.

She was older and seemed to naturally fall into the role of a supervisory adult, being instantly both empathetic and firm.

“Not sure. Found her like this outside.” I lied.

Ignorance is so believable because it is so abundant. It's why ‘I don’t know’ is still, in my opinion, the most effective and versatile of lies. And I told you I could lie. Oh boy, could I lie, but we’ll get to that later, trust me.

“Alright dear, please help me carry her onto the bed,” she said as she began pulling over a gurney from a side room.

“Sure,” I replied.

“Anything you can tell me that might help us, help her?”

“Nothing I can think of. She’s unconscious, but that’s self-evident.”

“That’s alright, dear. Do you need anything? You hurt?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Just came to visit someone.”

“OK. You sure you don’t need any medical attention, dear?”

“Yes, thanks. Any chance you know where shes gonna end up? Would like to pop in ans see her before I leave.” I explained to the homely nurse.

“Sorry, dear. That’s not really within my purview. If I had to hazard a guess though, she’ll probably end up in A&E.” She replied.

“Thanks.” I ended. And with that, I turned to the reception.

By now I was eager just to sit down and close my eyes for a brief moment. Nevertheless, I had places to be, a promise to keep and answers to extract. For a moment I worried the girl might be out of reach if I let her out of my sight but the fact that she was in her late teens and looked it, reassured me. It would probably mean the hospital would make a fuss of her leaving without meeting her guardians first. Or seeing her ID. I highly doubted she could and/or was willing to give them either. That, by my estimations, would give me enough time to see to my business and find her room after. It would probably take the same amount of time for the hospital to admit and place her. Besides, I had a promise to keep.

Going straight to one of the receptionists, I asked her which room Bishop and Adriane were allocated. She directed me to the upper left wing of the hospital, and I made my way to the lifts on my right.

Walking through the insipid white hallways of the hospital towards Adriane’s room, I let my mind drift back to the unusual turn my life had taken in the last day and a half. Running through all the information I did have, I resolved to stop thinking of the matter until I had enough info to make it worthwhile. Futility is not something I like apposing. I’m much more inclined to ignore it entirely and concentrate on seducing pragmatism. And so, determined to fulfil the promise and excited about getting some answers in the near future, I reached the room.

Too tired for anything that would constitute a conversation, I greeted Adriana and Bishop and headed straight for the only unoccupied seat in the room.

“Everything alright Arky?” Adriana asked, worried about how terse I was being.

“Ahh, Sorry guys. Yeah, I’m Alright. Just a long day, that’s all,” I replied as I looked at my watch.

That can’t be right.

I hadn’t checked my watch since I before I got on the bus thinking it had broken. It didn’t. It wasn’t even 5 PM yet. That couldn’t have been right. According to my internal clock, it should be closer to 7 PM. It was nearly summer and days stretched, so there wouldn’t have been signs in the outdoor visibility. I looked up to the clock on the wall behind me and found that my watch was not broken. 4:27.

Either time had changed or the way I was perceiving it had, no other possibilities made sense. Somehow it reminded me of the time I spent at Northampton Park, next to the school, where there were occasions I had spent only minutes there but had felt like hours.

Too tired for further rumination, I settled into a relaxed position on a chair near the window, my brain in a state of limbo; half asleep, half awake. It had been 20 minutes since I had arrived, and I suspected I was heading deeper towards slumber by the second.

Pulling me out of my trance and back to the living world, a doctor gently knocked on the door and proceeded to enter the room. He had very dark hair and luxuriant, connecting eyebrows that appeared out of place on his face. Coming in with a smile, eyes concentrating on the notepad in his left hand, he greeted us without looking up.

“Good afternoon all. My name is Dr Ian McCormick. Due to Dr Finchley having to deal with a personal emergency for the foreseeable future, I will be taking over your case. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He said, still looking at his notepad.

“Hi, Dr McCormick.” Bishop and Adriana chorused.

That’s when he looked up. His long hair that was cascading down his face slowly parted to the sides of his face, smooth and unnerving in its movement. BAM! It hit me. The hair was inky black, moving with an odd cadence. An image from the other day superimposed his image in my mind. And although it wasn’t an exact match, the original being significantly longer and freakier, the similarities were uncanny. The elusive, inky hair was back. Again.

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