A girl was waiting outside the door of the infirmary, nervously picking at her saxophone case. Her long blonde hair covered her face and the occasional tear. She had no idea what to expect. This was the start to a whole new life. At the moment, all she wanted was a smoke but didn't know where to go in this new, grungy setting.
The clock on the wall was obviously broken. She had watched the minute hand move forward five minutes, then upon reaching the sixth, shoot backwards five. She estimated a total of thirty minutes had passed. What was taking so long?
Just as she was about to stand up to start pacing, the light above the door lit up and a bell rang. She quickly wiped away any remaining tears as a tall, African American man with an eyepatch staggered through, carrying a large bottle of rum.
"Sorreh, mistah" he had a thick Scottish accent. He stumbled into the girl and immediately fell to the ground, spilling the contents of the bottle.
"NEXT!" shouted a new voice from within the room. She walked in cautiously.
There were white feathers all over the floor and bird droppings covered various medical structures. This is a hospital? Isn't this illegal? The girl noticed a very tall, well-dressed man petting a dove with blood stained feathers. He was cooing in a German accent to the tiny creature.
"Now, Archimedes, ve have to make our new guest feel velcomed. Zat means no burrowing into his flesh." He shook a finger at the bird and caught sight of the girl staring strangely at him. He started and shooed the bird away.
"Vhy, hello zere," he bowed low, "I vasn't expecting you to be…" he trailed off as his gaze shifted downward towards her chest.
"I'm up here, Dork." She glared at the stranger.
"I'm so sorry. It's been a vile since I've been in the presence of such beauty." He blushed and grabbed one of the girl's hands and kissed it gently as she rolled her eyes. "I'm the Medic, as you probably guessed. Vat might your name be?"
The girl snatched her hand back, looked confused for a moment and answered timidly, "I, I don't remember... Why can't I remember?" she was starting to panic now.
"Gut, gut. No one here remembers zeir names. Ve just call each other by our professions." The Medic gestured for her to lie down on the metal table in front of him. "Speaking of vich, vat do you do?"
The girl slowly approached the table, her fingers met the cold metal and she flinched away at first. Then she gingerly sat down with her legs still hanging off the side. "I'm a Musician."
Medic raised an eyebrow questioningly. "A Musician? You know, I play ze violin. But zat doesn't seem like a very gut veapon in my opinion."
The Musician smirked and reached into the back pocket of her pants and brought out a single saxophone reed. She flicked the piece of wood between her fingers then, with a sudden flick of her wrist, sent it whizzing past Medic and lodging itself deeply into a mini fridge. Muffled yelling was coming from inside.
The doctor stared at the reed then back at the girl, his expression slightly terrified. He cleared his throat and straightened his glasses. "Vell, you shouldn't have trouble keeping up vis ze rest of us. Now, please lay back. Zis ist a operation that all of us had. Zink of it as an initiation." He smiled sinisterly after the last word. "Since you are female, I'll go easy on you und give you a minor sedative beforehand. Zis vill sting a little."
He stuck a needle into her arm. "Hey, just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't handle a little…" everything went black before she could finish her sentence.
