Chapter 2: Breaking Through
Murnau's voice: our weapon is the moving picture…our poetry will be shadows that lengthen and conceal; our light will play across living faces that laugh and agonise…agonise…
He's behind the camera, back where he belongs. His hand rhythmically, monotonously, always turning the crank. Through the camera lense he can see what the camera is burning into film. It is light, just light. Wolf blinks, moves away form the shutter, and removes his goggles, but his hand continues to work. Straightening from his bent position, all he can see is darkness. The light, he figures must be coming from within the camera itself. His hand has stopped turning the lever. The hand is not recognizable as his own. The skin, marble white; the fingers slender, long, soiled, as it is with hi nails. He looks at it with horrified disgust…What is that next you… He picks up a book with the pale, wizened hand. Nosferatu! Dropping it this as quickly as it appeared in his hand as the all to familiar and all too familiar pain jabs his throat. Never seeing the assailant, always in darkness. Hot and cold, life draining.
The harsh contrast of the darkness of the dream and the light when Wolf wakes causes his eyes to water. A small yelp next to him startles him. "What are you doing?" He asks quickly if not a bit harshly.
"J-just changing the bandage, Herr Muller. Suddenly the marks were bleeding again soaking right through."
Wolf sees the gauze that she just removed and does notice that the blood on it is fresh. He blinks a couple times still adjusting to the light then reprimands himself upon recognizing the nurse he had just spoken so callously to is the same who had been kinder to him than the others. Berit is her name, if his mind is properly functioning to recall names to faces. Wolf tries to remain still for her, but he cannot stop the spasmodic trembling in his muscles, still in shock from the nightmare.
No, it wasn't a nightmare…it happened.
Berit was saying something.
"What?"
She smiles; almost amused it seems at his slight disorientation. "I asked if you had eaten today."
Wolf clutches at his arms, trying to stop shaking. "Depends, what day is it?"
Not exactly sure on how to respond she simply says, "It's today, Herr Muller."
He shudders. "Wolf. Please, just call me Wolf. You keep on saying 'Herr Muller' it makes me fell like I'm still on that set."
There are a couple giggles from the doorway. Wolf turns and finds himself snarling like an affronted animal at the other two nurses who were being nothing but nosy. His growl causes the harpies' eyebrows to rise, but they leave nonetheless.
Even after the women leave, Wolf still glowers at the darkened hall. Berit watches his still shivering form and gently brushes a lock of matted hair from his forehead. "What is it," she asks gently, but her voices causing wolf to snap his head around startled by it, "that dream that puts you in such a state?"
He swallows; his dark eyes become distant. "Have you ever seen Death?"
Berit laughs at the question. "I am nurse Herr, sorry, Wolf. I see it all the time."
"No," he almost whispers, his eyes no longer focused on the present world, but rather back to a not so distant past, "no, not death as in someone dying, but Death Itself manifested into a gruesome caricature of what was once living. Walking, talking, a black coat hanging off bleached bones. The overture of our symphony of horrors."
Berit, getting more than a little disturbed by the conversation decides to try to bring him back to practical matters. "You have not eaten. I'll try to get you something." She gets up to head out of the room.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I frightened you. You asked…"
"No," she assures him, "you are right, I asked." Outside she passes Elsa and Inga who are, rather immaturely, speaking purposely for Berit to hear.
"Did you see how he growled at us? As if he were some big dog," Elsa was saying.
"Well his name is 'Wolf'!" She responds. "Isn't that right Berit?"
Berit finally has had enough. She turns on them and points accusingly. "Have you no decency? Why do you insist on making fun of the poor man when it is, or am I mistaken, our duty to care for and comfort our patients?"
Inga snorts. "Yes, but we know in which manner you desperately want to 'comfort' our Herr Muller."
Not being able to hold herself back any longer, Berit slaps Inga. Elsa and the victim stare wide-eyed at the small nurse. "Now," Berit says, composing herself, "I am going to continue to do my job."
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The next say, Berit gets a call, asking if she can come in early. It is around three o'clock when she comes to fill in for the nurse who ironically went home sick. She ventures from this other nurse's usual rounds and is unable to resist the urge to have a look in on Wolf. To her surprise he is fully awake and sitting up, but his eyes once again stare blankly at the opposite wall. Her presence distracts him soon enough. At her first step into the room he looks at her and blinks, not use to seeing her this time of day. He smiles lightly which Berit find herself reveling in.
"Hello Wolf, how are we today?"
He doesn't answer her question; instead he poses one of his own. "Is it sunny out?"
"Ja," she responds enthusiastically, "not a cloud in the sky nor shadow to be seen."
He snorts softly. "Impossible. Where there is light there will be shadows."
She chuckles a bit. "Forgive me, I forget I am speaking to Herr Fotographi."
She walks to his bedside and looks at his neck. "Has this been changed recently?"
"I'd like to go out."
"What, now?"
"Yes, I want to go outside."
She looks at him incredulously. "I don't know. I'll have to speak to Dr. Komisch about it."
Wolf sighs knowing the kook would disapprove, but he gets another idea. "Why bother? Don't you believe he would trust your own professional opinion that a patient so pale and wan could use a touch of fresh air?" he asks with a cheeky eyebrow raised.
She puts her hands on her hips and narrows her eyes playfully in mock disgust that he would try to goad her in such a manner. But internally she is thoroughly relieved that he has taken on the mantle of a more awake and animated character. He is giving her a rather disconcerting look as if he knows she is going to relent. So she does.
"Alright, but only for a moment. Let me get you a robe or something to wear out there." She goes to a cupboard and starts sorting through its contents. "Can you walk?" she asks, finding the item and turning back to him.
"Since I was a babe," he replies with a smile.
Berit tsks and throws the robe at him.
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The hospital has a small yard for its patients and even it's staff to get a bit of exercise and escape the confines of the white walls. It is autumn, and the trees' brightly coloured leaves fall and turn brown as they sit separated from their parent. The air is mildly chilly as the unhindered sun warms the body fast enough.
Wolf, despite his inane joke about his mobility, discovered that he still was a bit weak to completely walk on his own accord. So on the narrow concrete path, Berit helps him, holing onto his arm and a providing a cut in the cold air with her own warmth. There are benches on the path so Berit and Wolf sit. Berit removes herself from his arm, drops her hands in her lap and stares at her shoes. Wolf, on the other hand, tilts his face towards the sun that is already on the western side of the horizon. He brings his hand up to brush away a lock of hair that a slight breeze displaced, and for the first time notices how truly pale he has become. Almost as pale as… He looks now at Berit who is uncommonly interested in her toes. "Anything the matter?"
She looks up and smiles at him. "Nothing at all."
A shrill giggle form across the yard interrupts them. It's Elsa, arriving for her shift. She waves at them and stifles her mouth with the other hand. Wolf glares at her, watching her into the building. "They talk about you." He comments.
Berit shrugs. "Gossip is the life-blood of some nurses. It's the only entertainment we can get."
"Rather pathetic form," he scoffs. "Why not read a book, go to the theatre or the cinema?"
"I haven't a mind to read books very often, but if I get time and I save a bit of money, I'll treat myself to the theatre or the cinema."
"Treat yourself? Have you no gentleman friend to take you?"
She blushes a little and stutters. "N-not as such. Not that I never have 'gentleman friends' as you say, it is just that they hardly last long." Uncomfortable, she steers the conversation off of herself. "What about you," she asks, "Don't you have any lady friends?"
Wolf smiles and laughs. Berit has never heard him laugh before and she quite likes it. He looks at her out of the corner of his eye. "Not as such," he replies, "but there were these two girls I worked with and flirted with a little. Elke and Maria." His eyes get a far away look again. "I hope they're all right," he mutters.
Finding herself not at all liking to hear him talk about other women, she changes the subject again. "What sort of film were you making?"
"When you ever happened to read, did you ever read Dracula?"
"Oh no!" she says, "I think that book is far to scary for me to read! Is that what you were filming?" Suddenly, Berit gets very interested.
Wolf's eye twitches for a moment. "In a manner of speaking. Though I suppose if the book is too scary for you, you would not be interested in the picture."
Berit crosses her arms. "Not necessarily. I've come to find that a person's mind can create more horrible images than anything a photograph, moving or otherwise, could show."
Suddenly wolf loses the animated appearance he had during the conversation and once again becomes distant and quiet. "What about reality?" he asks.
"Every waking moment of reality is frightening, whether we know it or not. All we can do is try to overcome our fears and persevere." Looking at Wolf now, she sees he has become completely withdrawn again. Sighing, she stands. "Come on. Even too much sunlight can be a bad thing."
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A/N: The next chapter is going under some extensive revising. Hope you enjoyed this one and appreciate how fast I got it up. So now chill and wait for the next. Ciao. Oh, and review. Thanks.