It's Like Dying To Catch A Ghost
Written in Blood Sequel Preface:
"It's Like Dying To Catch A Ghost"
(Note: Chapter one will be called "Rattling Chains In The Hospital Walls")
Shimmering lights glimmer off the white ceiling through blurring eyes that crescendo with clear fluid. Hot burning liquid down ice cold cheeks that are flushed blue and chattering against clashing teeth. Water is soaking heavily through the hospital gown that clings to arctic cold skin that lies shaking on the hospital stretcher that is rushing through the emergency doors. Voices are echoing loud in roars outside the girls head, but she cannot make out a word but only feel the hand clasped tight to her shoulder. Strong and subtle with long fingers that don't seem to let go even in the slightest. Her even barely stable consciousness starts to slip again as her lips part and she whispers in a rough water burned gasp,
"I'm too busy sinking to grab your hand..."
A deep voice rattles in her ear like chains far beyond the hospital walls and soothes her back down with a soft
"Shhhhhhh"
Even though she knows she should resist, the swelling black abyss in her mind drags her back and she lets the strange deep voiced man lull her back into unconsciousness.
Doors open and close as doctors push her into a back operating room.
The man stops short outside the doors and lets out a heavy sigh filled with angst and forlorning. As soon as he hears a steadily heart monitor beat faintly growing in the opposite side of the door he turns to make his way back to the waiting room and prepares himself for a very long antagonizing night. As he finds a seat alone in the corner he can't help but wearily laugh to himself at all the young female nurses he recognize him and stare and whisper to each other about the dashing young man that is in the very same room as them. None of them actually with him though as they can tell he is deeply troubled at the moment. He crosses his legs in contempt as he runs a strong hand through his disheveled dark brown hair that's windblown and still slightly damp.
Closing his eyes he sorts through everything that has just happened and groans lightly in sorrow and mild joy.
Chapter One : Let's Go To War To Make Peace
In His Thoughts
(From The Recent Past):
Pounding rain starts to clash from the broadening ominous clouds and collide with the now shadowed city of Gotham. Thunder claps in leaps and bounds through the city shaking glass windows and the floors of upper apartment buildings just below the storm. The one man who holds this whole city together is perched atop a tower building with his sights just catching a figure nose diving off the bridge and plummeting under the murky rough storm tossed waves. His interest peaks even further when he notices a purple and green figuring following the first. It wouldn't take a rocket scientist to realize it could be none other than the Joker and one of his shenanigans.
Finding his best route of getting down there he proceeds to make his way towards the bridge at the fastest speeds he can surmount on foot.
In Her Thoughts
(From The Distant Past):
As doctors hook her up with IV's her mind wanders in aching want of the hand that once graced her skin. A touch that was oh so familiar...
Deep red satin sheets ruffle lightly as two bodies fall intermingled onto them. Hands caress skin divulging in some of the sweetest sin as two forbidden lovers make up for all their lost time. Fingertips move as fast as they can, but at a slow enough paces to memorize every touch and every emotion and ripple inside that it provokes. Strong hands pull small hips forward on top of him and the lips of the people attached to them hold tight their lip lock almost in fear that they'll lose each other if they let go. Moments seem to go on for hours as the lovers find themselves growing even more untangled and even more undressed. Just as things reach a point of carnal intent the bedroom door swings open and a tall statuesque man walks in with a fury burning deep in him as he grabs the woman. The strong handed man leaps forward to steal her back from him as she falls from his grip and onto the floor to clasp clothes to her nearly nude form. Violent and almost overbearingly loud shouting bursts between the two men as the small woman carries herself on shaky legs to the bathroom in the back of the room. Even though she shakes so hard she feels she might pass out she continues to dress herself and look somewhat put together considering tears are now flowing like vast open rivers from her pale blue eyes. As she turns to walk slowly back into the room there's a bang so loud the windows shake as someone slams the door to leave. Keeping her eyes focused purposely on the floor she walks back into the bedroom.
"Amaranth...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen, I really didn't I-"
He's cut off by her picking up on her part of the blame, though none really is hers or him. Nothing should be able stand in the face of a love so strong, but like no fairytales tell, happy ever afters don't always come swiftly.
"No Bruce it's my fault. I should have never dragged you into this. I should have never even told you how I felt, it's all fallen apart for us because I was stupid enough to follow my feelings and drag you down with me."
Before he can catch her in her emotional fall she lets her feet do all the thinking and carry her out of his mansion as fast as they can go. Running through the streets of Gotham in such a state was all too familiar to her as things never did seem to go her way...
Present Time
The ever constant tick tocking of the overly large white clock on the wall was almost enough to drive Bruce to the brink of insanity. To at least make it a bit easier the chattering nurses had grown bored with him and moved back to their mundane desk jobs and got lost within the chaos that is patient work. Only a few hours had gone by but he could have sworn the apocalypse could have come and gone by now and he'd still be pacing a circle into the floors of this waiting room. He was painfully all too familiar with the feeling of waiting with someone's life on the line. It takes him all he has not relive all those god awful moments of true deep sorrow in his life. Making a mental note to refuse to believe any bad harm could come to Amaranth. Not her. Not his hearts only desire. He knows he can probably never make it up to her for everything he's let happen to her, but damnit he's going to try his best.
