Chaos. That's how one could describe the facility. Medical professors ran from room to room, their pens scribbling quickly across their clipboards. Patients groaned and coughed at the multitude of sounds erupting from the busy hallways. The pristine tile floor were covered in scuff from rushing shoes and ink dots from broken pens.
One doctor in particular seemed very absorbed in her work. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and what came loose lightly rested over her right eye. SHe paced up and down the corridor, her eyes never leaving the paper in her hands. She chewed on the end of her blue pen wearing it down to a dented plastic capsule.
" !" A young man called out. The doctor looked up and gazed momentarily at the boy before turning back to her work. He was a intern taking interest in the medical department. Looking to be in his late twenties and seeming very eager to speak with her.
"Yes?" She responded, her voice somewhat distant.
"You've been requested in D-5." He said, his smile like that of a child meeting their idol. "I was sent to retreive you."
"Very well." She sighed, tucking the loose hairs behind her ear she made her way through the chaos to the fifth floor.
The elevator doors opened with a shrill squeaking noise. Stepping into the empty corridor was a change from the previous floors. No one was running, let alone in the hallway. Her grip tightened almost instinctively around her pen. Time on the combat field tends to do that to you.
The clicking of her heels echoed through the passageway almost like a ghost matching her steps.
The rooms of course were mostly occupied, the doors closed as patients tried to rest. It was fairly late at night, but practically bleeding caffeine has its perks. The door to D-5 was unlocked and Angela let herself in.
Three other doctors were crowded around the bedside of what she presumed to be a patient.
" !" One of the doctors exclaimed, his voice riddled with worry. "Thank you for coming, we require your assistance if you could?" Angela only nodded in responce setting her clipboard and pen down on the side table.
The doctors spread apart allowing Angela to approach the patient. It was a woman, unconscious at breathing heavily. Upon closer examination, the blonde began to notice deep red blotches along the woman's neck and arms. There was no sign of external injury or bruising, just red.
"When did she come in?" Angela questioned, her expression was unreadable but her voice was demanding.
"We got a call this morning, someone found her throwing up in an alleyway, they were gone when we arrived." One of the doctors spoke.
"Vitals?"
"I'm afraid they're close to critical, she's been unconscious since we brought her in."
"What about the irritation? There's no sign of her sustaining an injury that would leave this kind of mark."
"That's why we requested you see her yourself, we couldn't find anything in past files."
Angela groaned, she couldn't recall any similar cases and the confusion was giving her a headache. The woman seemed to breath in tune which each throb of the doctor's head. She looked the woman over once more before turning back towards her colleagues.
"No one enters this room until I return tomorrow, I want her on respiratory support tonight until her breathing patterns correct." She said, her directions were so specific that not even a third grader could get it wrong.
"Understood Doctor."
Retrieving her pen and papers from the desk Angela exited the room and began to scrawl down notes.
Patient:
Female
Unconscious
Irritation marks on neck and arms
Found in Emesis
In between her notes she found herself once again chewing on her pen, a habit she hoped to soon quit. Biting harder into her pen it broke, blue ink splattered onto her hand and coat. Now all she wanted was to go home and sleep, she tossed out the pen and her lab coat and headed home.