"Doc, I don't think she's gonna make it. Severe clotting and hemorrhaging in the frontal and parietal lobes, internal bleeding, spiral fracture to the wrist, compound to the tibia, shattered rib cage, and her knee is completely blown outta the socket. Should we use defib?"
"There's nothing else we can do. The tissue in her organs are already going through necrosis from the lack of proper blood circulation. She's done for. Forget defib. And for cripes sake, turn off that fucking music."
I felt like I was falling off the roof of a ten story building. My hair rippled ferociously as I accelerated downwards into pitch black nothingness. My ripped jeans and torn shirt grasped at the air as if the threads of my clothes thought that they would catch onto something. My body ached as I fell flat on my back on the hard concrete that paved the sparsely lighted room. Oddly enough, there wasn't much whip lash. After gaining back my breath, I sat up and tried to focus my eyes. After a few frustrating minutes, I could make out the small, dank room.
A large, closed tank filled to the brim with solution sat in the middle of the room. A large incubator type light reflected through the solution and off the glass, revealing a pale body, floating motionless inside. The boy
***
was fully dressed, in a cuffed, dirtied shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows and baggy pants held up by old, thinning, red suspenders. His curly, black hair tousled through the still solution, framing his dead-white face. His eyelids were closed, and he was neither floating on the top or laying on the bottom. His body lay, suspended between the two layers .
I cautiously approached the tank and peered conspicuously at his face. There was no pigment in his cheeks, and dark bags under his eyes which immediately made me jump to the conclusion that he was a goner. My face remained a good three inches away from the glass that concealed his carcass. I could tell that the liquid was at a freezing temperature when my hand grazed the cold glass. Bringing my face closer and tilting my head curiously, I remained, staring in awe and confusion.
He couldn't have been in there for an extensive amount of time. His skin wasn't inflamed and his clothes weren't deteriorating. I found a lock on the opposite side of the sealed box. It hung loosely off the metal eyelet. Lightly, I maneuvered it off. No rust build up, no lime deposits, no nothing. I pushed the light sheet of glass backwards, and it bounced back on the three hinges. The liquid was clear and placid. I submerged my arm and tugged the boy's hand out of the liquid. Placing my index and middle finger on his wrist, I checked for a pulsation of the wrist veins.
"No pulse." I whispered to myself conclusively. Suddenly, his hand flew up and his fingers wrapped around my throat. I tried to swallow and swat his hand away, but the attempt failed. Blood filled my cheeks and I blacked out. When I came to, I saw the boy looming over me. He was completely dry, but still wore the same set of aged clothes. I was speechless. It took several minutes for me to regain my voice, and when I did, it was no more than a whisper.
"You-you didn't have a pulse."
"Dead people usually tend not to have one." He harshly replied. I clumsily got to my feet and inhaled the stale air, still configuring his words. I was damp; mostly the front of my shirt and my throbbing neck.
"Where the hell am I, and who are you?... And why are you not dead? Is this some kinda sick joke? Ten minutes ago, I was peddling down Main street on my bike."
"No, that was about eleven minutes ago. Ten minutes ago you got hit by a 18 wheeler. Fucking bastard wasn't even looking where the hell he was going."
"You're an asshole. Tell me where I am and who you are. And no more damn lies!"
"For your information, this is Sweden Borgian space. I'm Paul, one of the former ghost inhabitants of Kingdom Hospital." I shook my head in disgust.
"I said no lies!" He took several steps closer to me and I stumbled backwards to keep the distance between us.
"What? You don't believe in ghosts, Short timer? Doesn't make you insane if you do. Don't get me wrong, insanity isn't always a bad thing." He smiled wickedly and continued to advance, inching closer and closer, his face only a couple of precious inches from mine. His dark, curly hair was unkempt and chalky. Looking into his eyes was like staring into the center of a black-hole. I felt lost, entangled in his words, swallowed up by his eyes. I tried to break eye contact, but found that I couldn't.
He painfully tore my arm away from my side, my hand in his. Pain seared through my palm. Blue, thick smoke rose from our entwined hands and enveloped the air around us. I coughed to keep the musty smoke out of my lungs. Then he loosened his grip and backed away. I clenched my teeth in agony as I looked at the blistering cauterized symbol that scarred my hand. Two mirror images, bloody and calloused. I winced and breathed deeply, trying to abandon the pain, and looked up at Paul.
His thumb was placed between his two, dark, thin lips and his bony pinky shot up in some kind of bizzare sign.
"Welcome to the Kingdom, Short timer." He smiled wickedly.
"Why the fuck did you do that?" I screamed at him with my eyes watering intensely. He fumbled through his pockets and dug out a two ounce vile filled with a red, foggy fluid.
"This will help with the blistering and swelling." He offered, handing it to me. I hesitated and eyed him over. After a moment, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to at least try it. I gently fingered the tube and brought it up to my chapped lips, tipping my head back and practically inhaling the tasteless substance. My body locked up instantly and the glass vile fell to the floor, breaking into millions of shards.
"My breathing became extremely labored and every part of my body became numb. My head seethed and I tried to alleviate the pain by messaging my temples. Paul smiled and placed a hand on my convulsing shoulder. I shoved a finger down my throat to get rid of the poison, but nothing came up.
"It already absorbed into the lining of your stomach. Stuff works wonders, doesn't it?" He said, pressing his body firmly up against that of mine. My blood coursed through my veins and then started to cease. I looked up at him in horror. My senses weakened, and my body completely shut down. Paul was still snickering as I shrunk to the floor and died.