Death's Door

by D. Taina

Something happens to Goliath one long and painful night. What happened? He'll tell you himself.

Death's Door
By: Demona Taina

Gargoyles don't belong to me and I make no profit out of this. Well, I hope you guys like this story! Enjoy!

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Last night was a long and painful night indeed, one that may never vacate my memories. From dusk to dawn, I was in either emotional turmoil or in excruciating physical pain, and the center of attention of New York City and possibly the world. I was their savior, the Good Samaritan, the heroic beast that risked it all to save hundreds of innocent lives from a terrorist attack and the blast of a bomb that threatened to destroy everything in sight.

All I wanted to prove once and for all was that gargoyles are not evil. We are protectors, and we would risk our lives to keep the humans safe. The slightest show of gratitude would have been enough for me, but instead, I am repaid with the opposite: insults and half-truths. Is some respect and peace of mind so much to ask for? The very thought of being the hero of the city does not make me feel better, not in a thousand years. I was at the mercy of humans, helpless, writhing in agony all the way to sunrise, staring at the clock all night long, and longing for sunrise to heal my wounds. It was a horrible night indeed, but not horrible in its entirety at least. Elisa never left my side if she could arrange it, and she comforted me in my sorrow. My clan helped me whenever they could as well, even if they only managed to worsen my condition.

Through it all, nothing on the face of this Earth could make me regret saving those humans, for it feels wonderful to help others, to be of use. I could not ever deny that it warms my heart to know that someone can live to see another day and another sun because of my intervention. Not even hearing that some would rather die engulfed in flames than be saved by a gargoyle could make me regret saving their lives. All the suffering I went through and a near-death experience was worth it. I have no regrets.

I was taken to a hospital after almost half an hour of seemingly endless, excruciating agony. I wanted to remain home until dawn, with my family and friends, but my clan refused to let me succumb and pass away. To my surprise, the doctors treated me well. They made things much better for me, both physically and emotionally. I heard no insults, no lies. They kept me alive and out of pain. Perhaps all the kindness was due to the fact that Xanatos paid them a considerable amount of money to make me feel better in every way. I suppose I will never know the answer to that.

All I could see were nurses and doctors tending to my wounds and my pain in the haze that pain wrought. My veins and arteries were filled with medicine and sedatives and my body was connected to all kinds of machines and IV bags that supported my life until dawn. I did not know what I was going through and I was confused and even frightened of all the harmful things they could do to me with a knowledge I did not possess.

All I know and that I am sure of is that they fixed everything that was wrong with me. They sliced and drilled into me to reset the bones and stitch all the wounds. I had been dreaming good and bad dreams, but they turned into a dreadful, real nightmare when I regained consciousness. I found myself surrounded by cables, tubes, and machines. I felt miserable, groggy, and disoriented thanks to all the medicine those doctors injected me.

I would have been very comfortable if it had not been for the tube that went down my throat and into my lungs, ventilating my lungs with precious oxygen. They had also braced my neck, and it was keeping me still. My muscles and bones were aching, though the pain was not as excruciating as before. At first they hurt so much I would be paralyzed with pain, but after the surgery, the pain could easily be ignored.

I am sure the entire world heard about my accident and about my heroic acts to save all of those humans. Look at the newspapers for example, all of these piled up next to me. I do not know how to react to all of this. Should I be thrilled? I made the headlines of the most important newspapers, and a few even thank me for saving those humans. Should I be frustrated? Most of the things depicted on them are half-truths, and nearly all of Manhattan believes them, never caring to seek for the truth.

I am on television as well, either referred to as "a big purple bat" that went out to save humanity, a "gargoil," or as a sign of the Heavens that the world is coming to an end and all should seek for redemption before it is too late. Most of the interviewees referred to me as either a monster or a hero, and some even referred to me as both. I am a heroic monster. Enchanting, is it not? Oh, who am I to fool but myself? Of course it is not.

They can call me a bat, a monster, or a beast, perhaps even an animal, but no nickname is as infuriating as "Mister Bat." It is so incredibly foolish it is not even amusing, yet I am being called such endlessly and wherever I go. The next human or gargoyle that calls me such in my presence will regret it.

It all started like many of my nights do. I was patrolling the city from the sky, watching the dark streets and alleys, searching for any criminals to defeat and leave for the police. From the device in my ear came Elisa's voice. She asked me to come to her apartment because she had to speak with me at once. Of course, being the hopeless romantic I am, I caught an updraft and glided straight to her home, forgetting all about my patrol. I thought that Manhattan could do without one of us for one night. I could not have been more wrong.

Once I arrived, we looked into each other's eyes. She smiled at me, but her smile fell when she told me what was happening: a train had been taken over by terrorists and unless their demands were met, they would exterminate all the innocent people aboard with a highly explosive device.

I asked for more details. How long it had been in process, their reasons, etc. I wanted to know more about the situation and hear more of her sweet voice. Her monologue was long, but the way she gave emphasis to the words, the eloquence, and the sound of her voice, made it even more interesting. I barely got the opportunity to say anything on the matter, maybe a simple nod every time she looked at me for an opinion. She asked us to help the police handle the situation. The exact words I cannot even remember. Maybe those blows to my head made me forget the conversation, or maybe I was not paying attention because I was too busy staring at her gorgeous, chocolate eyes.

Her monologue was twisted into an argument somehow, and I cannot remember the word, nod, or gesture on my part that caused such a thing. I can still remember the look of anger and hurt in her eyes. I wanted to explain my words, my behavior; I wanted to avoid a heated conversation, yet I was never given the chance. She slapped me across the face with all the strength she could muster. I was insulted once more before she stomped back into her apartment and slammed the window shut.

I wanted to go after her and make her take back whatever it was she had said to me, but I reasoned before doing anything I would surely later regret. So, for the sake of our friendship, I stormed away from her. I only hoped that our relationship could somehow be mended. I now know that I should have talked to her before rushing off. Protecting while worrying about something other than the protectorate itself is not wise. How can you protect to the best of your ability when you cannot focus?

I cannot remember what happened afterwards. Maybe I went to the castle, or maybe I went to the scene of the crime. All the anger and depression must have blocked those memories for the sake of my sanity, and the blows to my head aided on that.

Everything went from depression to agony. The details are blurry, but I remember being in front of a train, on the steel tracks. Two bright lights were blinding me, and the roaring of the wheels of the train had me out of focus. I managed to leap into the air in an attempt to avoid a serious injury. Yet I was disoriented and aching, and I did not jump high enough or in the right direction. The monstrous train slammed onto my chest. Everything inside me felt like it snapped into pieces after such a devastating blow.

I heard the bomb, nearing time zero. My mind was set on saving the humans and myself. I managed to land on the train, but I could not stay on my feet for long since my mind was in a haze of instability and confusion. I was thrown over the train, and I landed on my hurting chest. I cried out in pure agony. When the echoes faded, I heard the bomb again, ticking faster as it neared time zero.

Somehow, I was thrown into the air. The train ran at great speed, far away from me, until the big blast. For a moment, I saw a huge and tremendous ball of fire, with scraps and pieces of the train flying in all directions. My descent was halted abruptly when I hit the ground. Pain surged from my neck and down my spine, and rushed to the rest of my body. I looked at the stars as I clutched my hurting chest. The stars blurred, along with everything else around them. I could feel my heart beating slower with each beat, and my chest struggling to expand. I tried to get back on my feet, but I was paralyzed with pain. My eyes rolled back into my head, and then there was total darkness.

Later, I discovered that I landed on the steel tracks. I was told that Elisa was the first to kneel before me, and the others gathered around me. Elisa checked my throat for a pulse, and when she felt nothing, she began to bump under my chest and blow air into my lungs. I was told that she tried five or six times, but nothing would happen. She was desperately trying to bring me back to life. All the guilt and emotional pain must have overwhelmed her.

When I regained my senses I saw Elisa crying and about to punch me on my chest with her fists. I came close to asking if she had gone daft, or if she was still angry with me and meant to take out all the fury on my hurting body. Before I could say or do anything, the pain returned. I rolled to my side and clutched my aching chest. I heard a few sighs of relief from the clan, and a few cheers.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I immediately looked to see who it was. It was Elisa. I was expecting another slap, maybe some more insults. Instead, she caressed my cheek, and our eyes met. I could not see anger in her features, just concern. She rolled me so I would face her, and checked my throat for a pulse again. She looked me over, and all I could see was terror exposed on her features.

I looked around to see where I was, and I saw my clan. They were coming toward me, talking to each other, never taking their eyes off me. They immediately stepped back when Elisa gestured them away from me. Even if they had gone back miles, I still would not have felt better. I studied her. She looked menacing, and at the same time, so concerned, so scared, and feeling so guilty. And yet trying to sound like she had everything under control. Her hands were trembling, her voice was quavering, her eyes were welling with tears, and I could do nothing to make her feel better. I wanted to, but I was in no condition to lift spirits especially when mine was in dire need of healing.

I did not know where I was and what I was doing there. But I wanted to know, and I was determined to get off the ground and back on my feet. I tried to get up, and I would have had I not felt agony all over my being. I gasped for air, and coughed in desperation. Barely any oxygen would go into my lungs. Elisa grabbed hold of my face and looked into my eyes. My eyes went from looking at her to the stars, and I watched them blur and twitch with fascination. When I came back from that shock, I was back on the ground, and Elisa was yelling my name. For a moment I thought that things could not get any worse, until I started hearing the rumors of a crowd. From what I could discern, they were talking about me.

It was the ones that I saved from the blast of the bomb. They were forming a circle around me, very slowly and carefully. I was surrounded, and I could not even move. I was helpless and at the mercy of an either very grateful or very angry crowd. They just looked at me, almost staring, probably wondering if they were to thank me, help me, shoot me, or run for their lives. Their feelings toward gargoyles had them very disconcerted. I had saved them, and to their eyes, I was still a mindless beast looking for food. I changed the perspective of hundreds of men, women, and children in seconds.

For a moment, I was glad that they were all right, and that I was their savior, but something an old lady said nearly depressed me to the point of stumbling up, staggering over and tearing her to shreds. She said that I only saved their lives just so my kind and I would be accepted by society.

I was furious in an instant. How dare she say that? I was in pain because of them, pain that I would have spared myself if I had not been there. I tried to get up once more, making the humans gasp and step back in fear, especially the old lady, who just hid behind a few humans. My arms trembled as I used them for support. I was too weak to even stand up, and that angered me further. My growls only scared the humans further away from me. I stubbornly refused to surrender to prove the old lady wrong somehow, but my body simply could not take anymore punishment. I fell back to the ground, and everything seemed to spin upon hitting it. After my vision cleared once again, I noticed a little girl struggling with her mother to let her go.

I wondered what was happening, but honestly, I had better things to be concerned about, life-threatening things, until the little girl broke free and ran to me. She had the sweetest smile and rosy cheeks, golden locks, and her giggles were music to my ears. Her smile made the entire struggle worthwhile. She thanked me several times for saving them, but she added a little something I do not think the world or I will forget any time now.

She called me Mister Bat.

As always, humans must name everything. And this sweet little girl chose to base my nickname on my appearance. The "bat" part must have come from my bat-like wings, and she must have added the "mister" out of respect. Such a clever little girl, but one that started something that may never be forgotten: Mister Bat.

I grew speechless. I swear I had my jaw dropped, and my eyes were fixed on her. I just blinked blankly at her, completely and utterly stunned. Even Elisa came close to bursting into laughter, but my glare warned her to keep the laughter to herself. The little girl just giggled at my reaction and kissed my cheek, making the crowd gasp in surprise and possibly even horror. Her grandmother took her by her arm (which happened to be the old lady) and pulled her back into the crowd despite her struggling. She yelled something at the little girl and smacked her arm. The little girl then burst into tears.

Elisa told me that they had to get me out of there before anything else happened. She was not willing to let me choose, even if I hesitated. I knew that it was going to hurt being picked up, being moved, even if it was for the better. She motioned the other gargoyles to pick me up. I nearly begged her to leave me in peace.

My clan held me and helped me up, ignoring the pain in my back and ribs. My eyes opened wide again, and I roared as loud as I could. I stumbled back with uneasy steps, and I would have fallen to the ground had the clan not been there to catch me. My body weakened in an instant and my sight blurred immensely. My eyes kept rolling back to my head, no matter how hard I tried to keep them fixed, and I finally shut them tight. I felt consciousness slowly slip away as I heard Elisa's voice, yelling at the clan to put me back on the ground.

I do not know how the gargoyles managed to gain enough height to glide us back to the castle or how they got the humans out of the way to escape. I cannot remember most of what happened to me last night since I kept losing consciousness because of pain or drugs. But those few moments I could live were the worst I have ever lived.

I remember opening my eyes and seeing the tallest parapet of Castle Wyvern, the one where I sleep during the day. I wondered if I would ever do one more dramatic pose and see the darkness disappear because of the rays of the sun. To turn to stone and wake up by blasting the stone off my skin, to roar and stretch my body, to turn and see Elisa, to jump to her side, to be hugged tight…

Oh, what I would not have given to be able to do those things one more time. It took much pain and agony to make me realize that I have taken life for granted. I have vowed to never let that happen again.

I was completely lost in my thoughts. I could even put the pain aside. All those thoughts, all those things I never could enjoy were as good as a sedative to my soul and body. I looked at the sky, at the beautiful stars, and I wondered if a higher power out there that would help me in this time of need existed.

I looked at the ground again in defeat, and shut my eyes. I whispered under my breath that I did not want to die, not in such a horrid way, so low that the clan could not make out what I had said, but did tell them that I was awake. I soon realized that I was on my knees, pleading the stars for help. I heard one of them say that they had to take me inside, but I could not make out who said it.

Before I could hesitate, the clan pulled me up to drag me inside. They hurt my chest, seriously, once again. I would have roared, but for some reason the sound did not come out as clearly or as loudly as I expected. Then I realized that my lungs were running out of space to breathe. I was suffocating in my own blood. For the first time that night, I was terrorized.

With the help of all the gargoyles, they dragged me into the castle, despite my pleas and all the times I lashed out at them in outbursts of pain and into one of the spare rooms so I could rest. I know that I nearly clawed Hudson's good eye out when he hurt my fractured ribs accidentally. If it had not been for Brooklyn and Broadway holding me back with great effort and Angela trying to calm me with kind words, I would have succeeded in blinding Hudson. I hope that my mentor can forgive me someday.

Finally in bed, I remained there, staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning, worried about what would happen next. The clan kept their distance, fearing that I would lash out again and succeed in hurting them just so they would leave me alone with my pain. I heard someone open the door, and Elisa was there, as beautiful as always. She looked like a goddess standing in all her glory.

I managed to whisper her name weakly to call her to my side. She went to me, even after Brooklyn told her that I nearly clawed Hudson's eyes out in an outburst of pain. She simply waved him off, sat next to me, and took my hand. I whispered to her that Brooklyn was right and that she should be wary around me for her own safety. She said that she trusted me and would not leave my side.

I heard Brooklyn wonder out loud what we were supposed to do. My guess is that everyone exchanged looks, but I did not notice. I was too busy staring at Elisa and her beautiful, brown eyes. Lexington's statement made my heart skip a beat. He asked Elisa if she thought the humans would talk to the press. She sighed softly, and nodded to him.

Those humans saw the accident, and will talk, without mercy. Word will spread across the world like a deadly virus seeking to kill and destroy. Tabloids everywhere will twist the truth like they always do to sell their story.

Broadway turned on the television and browsed until he found a news report. The old lady that accused me of caring about nothing but myself was being interviewed. "Olga" said that all rumors were true and that I had saved them all and nearly got myself killed. They even showed a movie clip, which confirmed what she had said, much to my demise. She then took the reporter's microphone, looked at the screen, and said that she would rather be dead because she did not want to owe a "beast" her life.

I palmed my face, groaning in frustration. I could not believe that human had the nerve to say that after I saved her life. I was frustrated, angry, and sad. Broadway took that as a warning and changed the channel. What very much caught my attention was this small picture of a train with a purple bat in front of it, on the superior right corner of the screen, with a horrified look on its face. The train itself seemed to have fangs and claws.

I admit that the picture was slightly amusing, so much it had me grinning despite myself (after all, I am the unlucky, purple bat being chased by a maniacal train) but again, I am depicted to the world as a purple bat and not a lavender gargoyle. Can they still not tell the difference between purple and lavender, a bat and a gargoyle?

Travis Marshall appeared, and was interviewing the little girl, whose name was Susie. She seemed very happy. In a very innocent way, little Susie said that "Mister Bat" saved her and everyone else, and she even called me a "super hero." She then waved at the screen and said hello while leaping with joy. Overnight, I turned into a "super hero" nicknamed "Mister Bat" that faced a bloodthirsty train and lost. Could it get any worse?

Elisa must have noticed my look of despair, and she calmed me down immediately by saying that she would never leave my side, and that she would wait for sunrise with me. Only Elisa made me smile last night, and she aided me in setting the pain aside to speak a few words to her. I will be in debt to her always.

Broadway approached us and asked Elisa if the wounds were serious. Elisa reached her soft hand for my chest, and pressed it against my ribs very softly, and yet hard enough to feel for any abnormalities. I felt them crack inside me and pierce my lungs. I hesitated the need to roar and let out all the pain that touch inflicted upon me. I had to try with all my might to keep from lashing out at her, something I will be ashamed of for the rest of my life.

She turned to the others and gave them the news: my ribs were broken. It did not seem like such a huge problem at the time. Sunrise would get those healed, but what they did not know was that it was worse, far worse, than a few broken bones. I knew that it was internal damage. I could feel my lungs bleeding and my heart pump blood uneasily. I refused to tell them if only to spare them worry, so they let me die in peace. Damned indecision, and cursed pride.

I spent the next twenty minutes or so keeling over in pain and gasping for air. Many times I came close to revealing that I was dying a slow death and to pleading someone, anyone, for something to end the pain, for something to help me breathe, for something to get me through the night, but I always buried my pleas deep inside me. Gargoyles do not beg, no matter what. Each breath, struggle, and gasp only brought me closer to the point of crying tears of hopelessness. I began to wonder what life was like after death, if there was any. I kept having flashbacks of my life, of the most unforgettable moments that gave shape to my soul. My childhood, my youth, my Angel of the Night, being second in command, ascending to leadership, the massacre, the sleep spell, Elisa…

I had no hope, no hope for a better tomorrow. How could I survive until the sun rose when each breath was a step closer to death? When each breath was shorter than the one that preceded it and the pain only kept intensifying? I truly was close to death's door last night, but Elisa, my clan, and even Xanatos refused to let me surrender, open the door and walk to the other side to meet the Afterlife, either that or oblivion.

And finally, I could not take it any longer. The pain was overwhelming, it was shattering my soul, and I just had to tell someone, anyone, of the pain I was feeling inside. I refused to die a slow, silent death when something could be done for me. I refused to abandon my clan and my Elisa. It was hard to hold the tears back, but I finally told Elisa that I needed help. I told her that without help, I would die sooner or later. She soothed my hair in an attempt to calm me down, and I swear that if it had not been for her touch, I would have started crying.

She told me that she wanted to help me, but she did not know how. She commented that she could not just take me to a hospital or something similar to that. She had spoken such prophetic words. She asked me to describe the pain, and I told her that it felt like dozens of blades stabbing my chest. Elisa did not know what to do, but my daughter did. She ran out of the room with tears in her eyes, and did something that I would not have expected in a thousand years.

She went to Xanatos seeking for his aid. I admit that I was slightly angry with her for bringing my enemy to my deathbed, but I understand that she did not do it out of malice, but out of concern.

Elisa growled Xanatos' name with hostility when she saw David Xanatos and his "sidekick," as she likes to calls him, Mister Burnette. They were at the door, staring at us, especially at me. I tried so hard to calm myself until he decided to leave, with very, very little success. I despise it when Xanatos is present in a moment of weakness. How I wanted to make him go away.

She asked with anger what he was doing here. I heard the stern in her voice, yet amazingly, her touch never lost the care. He said that Angela went to him and asked for help, and that he was more than willing to help me. The last threads of hope that remained in my tortured body revived when he said that. Could it be, a way out of that pain? Though I could have sworn he was smirking, but maybe it was a slight frown. I cannot really tell. My vision was as good as that of a near-sighted's last night.

Elisa shouted that we did not need help, especially his, though she knew the statement was a complete and utter lie. I did need help, and large quantities of it. I saw him fold his arms behind his back. He asked if she would rather have me dead. Oh, how I wanted to rip his heart out of his chest and crush it in my hands and relish in his blood…

She looked at me, and all the anger vanished from her features. She would never lose me over an old grudge; she would never have me suffer, have me die, if there was hope for my survival. All we had to do was trust Xanatos. She asked if there was some sort of catch he would not tell us of, completely ignoring my hesitation.

"No catch," he said. He lied. I know that he did. I owe him my life, and I will be in debt with him for the rest of my nights. He will exploit and take advantage of that favor for his own, selfish, devious needs. You shall see. I whispered to her that I certainly did not want his help, that I would rather die of suffocation with my dignity at least, but she refused to listen to me; they all did. I had no choice but to swallow my pride as well.

Elisa finally agreed. None of them liked the idea of leaving me at Xanatos' mercy, but it was either his help, or no one's. I saw Xanatos turn to his employee. They exchanged nods, and Mister Burnett left the room. I could swear that I saw a grin on Xanatos' face, but then again. I've no alibi. My vision was blurry and I was barely conscious. Who would believe me?

I saw Elisa stand up and step up to Xanatos with a fierce look in her eyes. She said that they trusted him with my life, and that if anything else happened to me it would be his fault. In return, he said that I would be in good hands. When she was about to lend him at least an iota of trust, he added that he could not make any promises, and that neither could the doctors. As much as we hated to admit it, he was right.

Owen Burnett then returned, and told Xanatos that everything was ready. I heard mechanical sounds, and they stopped at the door. It was a Steel Clan robot, standing behind Xanatos and Owen, waiting for instructions. I tried to stand up and say something to Xanatos. Why would he summon one of his Steel Clan robots? But, alas, the pain in my chest forced me to lie down and try to remain still.

Of course, Elisa was outraged, and she argued with Xanatos, demanding to know what he was doing and why he brought a Steel Clan robot. He looked calm through it all, and his tone of voice never shifted. He said that they were taking me to Manhattan General in their helicopter, and that the doctors would take care of me there. The robot would simply carry me to the helicopter. She immediately warned him that if anything else happened to me that it would be his fault and that he would have to deal with a leader-less, angry clan of gargoyles, and a very angry detective.

The robot walked to me, placed one steel arm under my neck, the other under my knees, and lifted me off my deathbed, unfeeling for my suffering. I had to fight back a roar of pain. I could not even struggle with a robot with my looks. How frustrating…

The robot and I reached the courtyard, after going through several halls. They had a helicopter waiting for me. Fox was the driver, and Xanatos was seated next to her. Elisa ran to the helicopter and yelled something at Xanatos. I saw him nod to her as the robot brought me closer. Elisa jumped into the helicopter and helped me into it, and then Xanatos and Elisa set me down. I heard the engines start, then the blades spin.

The trip was excruciatingly painful, and I swear that I could feel my life trying to slip from my grasp, and yet, it was stubbornly held back by some unknown force. I could barely breathe, I could barely think, it was all pain and nothing except pain for me. What did I ever do to deserve all that I went through? Elisa stayed by my side all along. I will be forever grateful for her being there last night. She comforted me, reassured me, and gave me hope when all hope was lost. If she had not been there, I would have surely perished.

The helicopter landed after five minutes or so. Elisa, Xanatos, and Fox helped me out of the helicopter and onto a stretcher that had been waiting for me. The doctors were probably wondering what they were supposed to do to help a creature unlike them. They looked scared, apparently thinking that I was going to attack them. I had lashed out before, but I was determined not to do so again. I do not blame them for fearing me, but I was willing to cooperate, for the sake of my life.

By that then, I could barely get air in my lungs. It was hard to even get it down my throat sometimes. My throat and lungs felt very swollen and very full of blood. I could feel my chest trying to expand, but my broken ribs would just crack and stab my lungs. They felt so full, yet so empty. I felt a mask being placed over my nose and mouth, and I was told to breathe it. It let out cold, medicinal oxygen to me. I sucked in as much as I could instantly, not caring that the humans would think that I needed their help that strongly, or that I was that desperate. I felt slightly better, but it was still not enough to bring me some much-needed relief.

They rushed me into the hospital. I saw the lights rush by and the white walls stand guard, everything clear and pristine. I heard the doctors saying things to each other as they ran. Things I could not understand. I could not help but look around momentarily, curiosity finally taking its toll. Everything seemed so new, so interesting, so fascinating, and I was intent on learning from that place so all the suffering would not be in vain.

I tried to roll to my side, lying on my back made the pain worse for some reason, but a female doctor quickly held me to my back. She adjusted the mask on my face, and told me her name. Dr. Vazquez, but she said that I could call her Melissa. She informed me that I was in Manhattan General, that they would work on me, would very much appreciate some cooperation, and that if I had any questions I could just ask. I was surprised that I was being treated so well. To be honest, I had begun to like this "Melissa."

I felt hands on my chest, feeling my ribs. Again, I fought the urge to lash out to keep them from hurting me further. They rolled me to my side momentarily, and they felt my spine to check if it was broken. If it had been, I would have been completely and thoroughly paralyzed with agony, and most likely paralyzed for the rest of my life. Thank the Dragon, it was not.

Melissa asked me my name, most likely trying to keep my mind off everything until they vanquished the pain. At first, I did not answer. I did not know if I should have. They connected me to some kind of machine that beeped at the rate my heart was going, which was extremely unsteady. A heart monitor, I think it is called. But she asked again, in a softer and more caring tone, and I could not say no.

I told her my name in a hoarse, sheepish, and weak whisper. I could not believe that I did. I was even regretting it a second later. She smiled and told me to remain still because what they were going to do next was going to sting. I wondered what she was talking about, until I felt a sharp pain on my side. I then gasped and jerked a little, fearful of further damage. The doctors immediately held me tight. She told me to be still if I did not want to snap the needle. After a few seconds, the sharp pain completely disappeared, and the spot and several inches around it numbed.

I had my eyes shut because the intense lights were blinding me, so I was not looking at what they were doing to me. I just wanted to go home as soon as possible. I felt something penetrate my chest, but I felt no pain. I looked to see what it was. It was a hollow tube, and I saw blood rush out of my chest and out of the tube in seconds.

After that, I could breathe more, though my lungs were hurting quite intensely still. I could feel my ribs cracking and piercing my lungs as I expanded my chest with each breath. It hurt, it hurt very much, but at least I could breathe. They repeated the process with the other lung. For the first time in almost half an hour, I could actually roar in pain, making the roars of agony echo throughout the room.

Melissa looked overjoyed, and said something about clearing the air ways, and that me roaring so loudly was actually a good thing. She then told another doctor, who I am sure she called Ricky, to get an IV ready, then asked another nurse to get her fifty of morphine. Back then, I did not know what either an IV or morphine was, and I was afraid to ask. I could guess. The morphine would calm me down and the IV would allow it to flow into me. It could not have been the other way around.

I felt someone's hand take my own and stroke it a few times. Melissa told me to stay calm because they were going to do something about the pain that plagued my body soon enough. I saw her walk to a human who, I presumed, was Ricky. She asked him if he had located a vein, and he nodded in return. He readied another needle and neared it to my hand. I knew it was going to hurt by the looks of it alone. I closed my eyes and awaited some more pain. I felt the needle go through my hand. It was a sharp pain indeed; one that made me flinch, but it disappeared quickly after it settled in.

The human then wrapped some adhesive straps around the needle, holding it to my hand. He connected it to some long, thin tubes that led to several bags full of liquid of diverse shades of gold. I saw another nurse inject something to the IV, which, I presumed, was the fifty of morphine Melissa ordered. I felt my hair being touched, and I looked to see who it was. It was Melissa, smiling despite everything, and told me that it was going to calm me down so I could rest. I groaned in frustration and thudded my head on the stretcher again. I had hated sedatives ever since I learned of their existence when Elisa and I were at the park two years ago, but last night, I did not mind them, for all the obvious reasons.

I knew it would settle faster than usual. The medicine would circulate throughout my body, following the circulation. I could not have been gladder. Well, after I was injected, my eyes started to narrow. The pain I was feeling and all the uncomfortable sensations just faded away. I felt my muscles slowly stop tensing and my eyes lose their glow and close on their own. I heard all the voices slur in the background as I drifted off to a momentary slumber. But being a gargoyle forced me back into a semi-conscious state a while later. Much to my demise or good fortune? I am not sure about the answer yet.

I do not know how long I was asleep, but I could feel movement all of a sudden. My head swayed, my eyes fluttered, and I looked around. I was being wheeled off, again. I was trying, nearly desperately, to shake off the dizziness and grogginess. To remain asleep could mean death if these humans did mean harm upon me. Call it warrior's instinct, and mistrust.

I was told that I was being transported to the x-ray room and that they would take pictures of all the injured areas to see them from the inside. It would allow them to see what was causing all the internal bleeding and pain. I slightly nodded in return, though I did not have the slightest idea what an x-ray was. I did not have the strength to ask questions.

I was beyond groggy. By the Dragon, have I ever been that groggy? I must have been. I even thought the situation I was in was sadistically hilarious. Me, being wheeled from room to room, slipping in and out of consciousness constantly with innocent bystanders screaming and hiding from me, and doctors stutter and drop whatever they were holding when informed that they had to take care of me. I made it sound hilarious, did I not? I must have laughed several times.

I can barely remember what happened next. I know I was placed on some kind of cold, silver slab, with green machines all around me, and one that moved to rest above my chest. It had some kind of dark glass that reflected my chest on it. I was asked to hold my breath, but I could not. After the x-rays were taken, I was moved to another room, one with several stretchers in it, but no humans occupied them. Once I was there, they hid me behind the curtains.

I was covered from the neck down with a blanket and a flat pillow under my head. I was connected to all kinds of machines and medicine that streamed down the thin tubes that led to my veins. The air was cold, but that does not bother my kind. The stretcher was, all things considered, very comfortable. I closed my eyes and became lost in my thoughts again, then sunk into a deep sleep.

Ten minutes must have passed. Possibly not ten, but twenty. I honestly do not know. I will have to ask Elisa someday. Well, when I regained consciousness, I saw Elisa seated next to me, staring at me, patting my hand and stroking my hair, trying not to shed tears on me. My eyes could see the beyond concerned look in hers, the frown on her lips, the bags and veins in her eyes. She must have been crying, and very much. I had never seen her like this.

Elisa asked if I was in there, which I was for the time being. I gathered what remained of my strength to fight the sedatives and grogginess just to whisper her name softly. I was pleading with my eyes for something to make me feel better. Anything would have been enough.

She seemed to have understood my silent pleading, and meant to make me feel better by placing a soft kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes and reveled in that touch, quietly willing for a deeper kiss. Oh, she is so wonderful. She always knows exactly what to do to help a soul in need. One kiss, just one kiss made the entire struggle worthwhile. I do not know what I would do if I ever lost her.

A male human doctor, who Melissa called Michael J., came in with a brown folder in hand, a large one at that. He handed the folder to her, and she nodded and returned his smile. She took the black pictures out of the folder and pinned them to some boxes that gave out a bright glow.

Elisa stroked my hair and walked over with her hands in her pockets. She took one look at the x-rays, and stiffened. The doctor was rubbing her chin and looking over the black slabs. She explained to Elisa what she saw on those black and white pictures. Something about broken ribs, major damage to the lungs, internal bleeding, a bruised heart, and a fractured sternum. She explained to her that they had to perform surgery. If they did not, I would die sooner or later from all the loss of blood and probably from a cardiac arrest. I had to be taken to the operating room, or "O.R."

I could not believe I had acquired so much damage. It all seemed impossible, all the damage, all the anguish, how could a simple blow of a train destroy me so? Gods and mutates have not been able to do that. How could a mere machine used for transportation shatter me inside and almost deprive me of life?

I saw both human females walk to me. Elisa was trying to hold back tears, and the other looked calm and focused. She looked at the doctor and waited for her to tell me the news, since she was too depressed to inform me herself. The words would not come out right, especially those words that had to do with a decision that could kill me, but could also save me. The doctor cleared her throat and began to speak. I was told about all the damage to my chest, though I heard her talking to Elisa about that, and about their plans to fix everything that was wrong with me. They had to open my chest, and fix everything directly.

I stared at her with wide eyes, disbelieving. I heard Elisa sniffling, and I motioned her to my side with a wave of my hand. She quickly came to me and squeezed my free hand. I smiled to her lightly, reassuring her with my lips that things would take a turn for the best, hopefully.

If it meant surviving all this and making it to sunrise then I wanted the surgery, despite my instinct and mistrust for humans I do not know. The doctor patted Elisa's shoulder, then told her that she would tell the other doctors to get the operating room ready. She gave me a reassuring look and left the room. I could not believe what was going on inside and around me. Elisa could not believe it either. So much had happened in the course of barely an hour.

Elisa looked back at me, her eyes red with tears. She seemed very uncomfortable, very anxious, and above all, very sorrowful. I heard her whispers, reflections of her thoughts, loud enough for me to scarcely decipher. She said that if she had just controlled her anger, I would not have wound up where I was. That if it had not been for her, I would not have suffered. She looked at me, and whispered to me, her eyes quivering, that she was sorry, very sorry.

Before I could tell her something that could make her feel better and grant me a smile, the doctor walked in with a large needle in hand, and gloves on each. She walked up to me and eyed the IV they implanted on me. I saw only concern and terror on Elisa's features. She asked what the doctor was going to do to me, and the doctor simply said that they were putting me under to transport me to the operating room. I could not help but be frustrated. More sedatives, and this one was not going to simply calm me down, it was going to deprive me of consciousness.

I saw her walk to my side and reach for my hand. Elisa caressed my hair, then looked at the doctor with a suspicious look. She asked the doctor, very suspiciously, why they could not put me under in the operating room like they always did. Was this human trying to kill me? The doctor just shook her head, smiling. She said that on normal circumstances, they always did, but because my lungs were so badly injured they had to do it intravenously. She assured me that they were not trying to kill me. "Far from it," she said.

She pumped the liquid into the IV, then removed the needle, and threw it in a trashcan. She patted my shoulder and walked off. Sooner or later I was going to sink into a deep and utter darkness, and was going to have some strangers open my chest and work in it. For once in my life, I was terrorized, terrorized that I may have not awakened, terrorized that they could destroy me from the inside, but I did not allow anyone to witness my fear, my moment of weakness. What was I to do but wait and hope that my suspicions did not turn out to be a reality?

Elisa ran her soft, slender fingers through my hair, and whispered in my ear. Sometimes I wonder if she knows that stroking a gargoyle's hair is the equivalent of a human kiss. She wished me a good rest, and told me that she would see me later. My eyes had begun to narrow, and my senses were numbing slowly. She noticed that, and almost shed cold tears on me. I looked at her, smiled weakly, and reached for her cheek with my free hand. I caressed it softly, and tucked her hair behind her ear. I heard her sniff before my eyelids felt heavy and my breathing slowed down. A sigh was the last thing she heard from me before the doctors came in and wheeled me off to the O.R.

So, I remained in the desolate, overwhelming peacefulness of unconsciousness for several hours. A part of me knew that I was unconscious, and that I was in surgery, but the rest of me could not distinguish the real from the imaginary. I know that I had several dreams during my unconscious state, but I cannot remember any, except for this one, unforgettable dream. The same dream I had when Elisa was resuscitating me. It felt so real that it could instill fear in the pit of my soul. I remember walking in a dark tunnel without the vaguest idea of where I was and where I was going. Its walls were swirling with lights of all colors, and I could not help but admire the beauty of that place. The tunnel itself seemed to be spinning, but the main spectacle was in front of me.

It was a huge, white light that shone in all its might, so much it was hypnotizing, like a flame for a moth. It called for me, and I intended to answer. A light brighter than the sun, brighter than all the fire in the universe, and yet, it did not harm my vision in the slightest. I wished to see what was on the other side and what was in store for me, no matter the consequences. I walked and walked with my eyes fixed on the powerful light.

Some part of me kept saying that I was dead, that I had been mortally wounded with no hope of surviving, and that I had perished in the operating room. I would not see my friends and family in many years, but at least I would see all of my murdered clan. I thought of Elisa as I walked to the light, how I would miss her so much, and how I was sure that she would miss me as well. I thought of my clan, of leaving Brooklyn with the burden of leadership. I thought of the gargoyle race, and wondered if humanity would ever accept my kind.

As I approached the light, the tunnel's colors changed from the color of the sky to the darkness of the night and it was engulfed in flames. Through it all, I did not look at the flames because my eyes were transfixed on the light in front of me. I heard the agonizing screams of all the damned souls, and that snapped out of the trance I was in. I stepped back rapidly and I finally noticed all the flames surrounding me.

Was this horrible sight in front of me what I would have to endure for as long as time stood? No, I had to go back. I had to return to my clan and to my Elisa. I tried to run away from the light, but I could not. Demons surfaced from the nonexistent ground and were holding on to my legs and pulling me to the end of the tunnel, their Hell. Upon closer inspection, I could see that they were not demons, but gargoyles with familiar faces. I could swear that they were my elders and rookery siblings that were shattered in the massacre at Castle Wyvern centuries ago. They were moaning my name and telling me that I was one of the damned now just like they had been for one thousand years. I tried to struggle, but they would not release me. All my strength was futile against the power of their hatred and their pain.

I heard a maniacal laughter coming from the glow and ordering my rookery siblings to bring me to an eternity of suffering. They dragged me to the glow, despite my pleas, and I could see the world of fire and lava and chaos feared by all the believers. I had never been so scared in my entire life. The worst fate of all is being dead and yet alive and suffering with no hope of ending it all. The demons stopped dragging me to Hell when the voices of humans struggling to bring the life back to my body were heard.

One of the voices belonged to Melissa, I was sure of that. The demons with the faces of my rookery siblings released my legs and disappeared into the depths of their fiery world, moaning their pleas at me. The one that looked like my clever sister moaned that it was not my time to die yet, and that I would join her soon enough. The fire that engulfed the tunnel died, leaving behind darkness darker than the night. I was returned to the world of the living, and for seconds, I could see my body lying on a stretcher with many doctors surrounding me. When I entered my body, the flat-line stopped and was replaced with a beeping that meant that my heart was pumping blood once more, and unconsciousness invaded my senses.

Did this happen to me in real life, or was this only a dream I had in the operating room? Why did I see fire at the end of the tunnel? Why did I see my rookery siblings in that Hell? I have not the slightest idea. The dream felt so real, and yet so deceitful. A nightmare intertwined in every possible way with reality. A nightmare that can still terrorize me.

Well, darkness brightened. My world changed from complete and utter silence, to the distant, slurred sound of the air in the room, of all the machines around me. I began to notice my own thoughts, and I could feel my very being, alive. I actually wondered whom I was, where I was in the universe, and what had happened to me, but those questions became obsolete soon enough. I wondered where I was in Manhattan, and what time it was when enough brain cells had awakened to grant me the gift of coherent thinking. Thoughts became more complicated, and I began to wonder how the operation turned out. And finally, I felt strong enough to move a few limbs.

I opened my eyes, and finally looked around. I was still in the hospital, and there was only one nurse by my side, probably put there to look after me. I could not see whom I wanted to see: my beloved, Elisa Maza, and I was disappointed. I could not help but try to shake the dizziness off, but I could not move my neck. My hands instinctively went to my neck to try to feel what was keeping it still. The doctors had braced my throat with some kind of, um, plastic something that wrapped around my neck. When I tried to take it off, the nurse finally noticed that I had recovered from the sedatives and immediately grabbed my hands and pushed them back down.

And that was when I noticed that thing that went down my throat. It was some kind of hollow tube that reached my lungs and filled them with air. Human science is amazing, is it not? I did not even have to breathe; a machine was doing all the work for me. Well, that tube was extremely uncomfortable, and I clearly remember that I wanted it gone, and fast. It was making my esophagus extremely sore.

I still cannot speak in my usual baritone because of that tube. The source of all the teasing from my "beloved" clan. "Donald Bat," they say, followed by: "where'd Daisy run off to?" That just boils my blood to a dangerous degree.

Well, the nurse told me that her name was Dr. Cabanellas, that I could call her Frances because no one could pronounce her last name, and that she was one of the nurses that took care of me when I got there. I could not remember last night, but now I do. She is the one that pumped me full of morphine and drugged me to the point of thinking that last night was hilarious.

She asked if I could understand her. I could, though she had a slightly thick accent. She asked if I was aware of what had happened. How was I supposed to answer? I could not talk, and I could not nod or shake my head. She waited a minute or so for a reply, and after slapping her forehead in realization, she grasped my hand and told me to squeeze it if the answer was affirmative. I truly did wonder how to say not much, since that was the answer, so I squeezed her hand. Afterwards, she asked if I could remember where I was, and again, I squeezed her hand.

Despite my having told her that I could remember most of what happened, she still synopsized the story for me just in case. She did so by asking me, once again but with different wording, if I was aware that I was hit by a train and that I ended up in that hospital and that I had to go to surgery. I squeezed her hand again. She looked overjoyed and said that I must have suffered very minor brain damage. I slightly stared at her, in terror and shock, but she didn't seem to notice. Brain damage? It sounded terrible; it still does.

She told me that Elisa was just "dying" to see me, that she had been in that waiting room nonstop for hours, that they had tried everything to get her to eat or sleep but she just would not "budge." I found her vocabulary slightly confusing. Elisa was not dying; I was. And "budge"? What does "budge" mean? This program, as Lexington calls it, does not seem to have a dictionary I could consult. Oh, it has a thesaurus. Let us see. Progress, advance, move, make progress, move on, proceed, remove, stir, and act? Oh…

Well, I could not help but smile for the first time in hours when she said that. Elisa had had the chance to leave that depressing place to get some much-needed rest, and yet she chose to stay in that hospital waiting for hours to make sure I was all right. I will make it up to her someday, maybe tonight when she is off duty. She promised to come as soon as possible and I wait patiently for her return. I am just, uh, what is the word, oh, typing all this to kill some time. Besides, if I leave this room, my clan would probably start teasing me with that blasted nickname I loathe and my hoarse voice and I do not want to lose my temper.

Back to my story. Frances started telling me about the surgery and how it turned out, but the turning of a knob interrupted her words. I saw Melissa and Elisa walk in and close the door behind them. Melissa looked, as always, calm, focused, and she was still smiling. Elisa was staring at the floor as she walked, with her hands in her pockets and wearing an exhausted look in her eyes.

Frances told Melissa that I had been awake for a few minutes, making Elisa jerk her head up and at me with wide eyes, disbelieving, but thrilled. Melissa walked to me and looked me over. She was smiling despite all the tension surrounding us. She looked at my chest, and told me that I looked much better. Frances agreed with her. That was nice to hear, but did they have to gawk at me like that?

Elisa rushed to my side and held my hand. I squeezed her hand tightly, telling her that I was aware of her presence, and she shed tears of happiness and relief. Thinking that she must have looked pitiful and weak, she cleared her throat and attempted to regain her composure, wiping the tears off her beautiful face. I will always think of her as a strong, bright, and beautiful woman, no matter what happens.

Elisa asked what they were going to do next, not ever taking her eyes off me. Melissa told me to tell Elisa if I was feeling better, I squeezed her hand, and I smiled when Elisa squeezed it back. She was feeling better as well. We stared into each other's eyes. No words were needed to express what we were feeling that moment. Melissa then told me to tell Elisa if I thought I could breathe on my own, that if I could, that they would "extubate" me, but "intubate" me once more if I showed any signs of relapse.

I did not know what the words meant, but I could understand the prefixes. Well, if I could breathe after the accident with bleeding and swelling lungs, then I surely would be able to breathe after the surgery. Besides, I could not wait to talk to Elisa. I squeezed her hand.

Melissa told Frances to ready an oxygen mask, and she immediately did so. Elisa was still staring at me. She asked if I was sure of what I was doing. I wanted to tell her that I would gladly suffocate if it meant being able to talk to her, but I think my determined gaze was enough words. She still told me to tell her if I started feeling weak again, in a very commanding tone.

I saw the two female doctors walk to me. Frances helped me sit down on the stretcher, then removed all the fasteners that held the tubes to my face. Once she was done, she held my shoulders, and Melissa leaned in close, grabbed hold of the tube, and counted to three, giving me time to get ready. I remember slightly dreading that number, unknowing how it would feel to have that tube removed. When she reached the number three, I mentally cringed, and she slid the tube out with one slick motion. How it felt I could not begin to describe it. It was just beyond repulsive. I quickly clutched my mouth with my free hand and started coughing. It just felt so horrible, so disgusting. She called me a good boy and patted my head, and I slightly glared at her, but she did not show any signs of noticing.

She pointed at the plastic around my neck and asked if I wanted it off. I still did not know if I could speak, so my eyes told her what I wanted. She reached for it and unfastened it. When she finally removed it, I could not help but shake my head and rub my throat.

Frances placed the oxygen mask on my face and fastened it to the back of my head. They both watched me struggle to get used to breathing again, until I had it under control. Again, they gawked at me, annoying Elisa and myself. Melissa helped me lie down again. She said they were giving me therapy for the rest of my stay because they did not want my lungs to "act up" again. She turned to Elisa, and their gazes met. She told her that they would only let her stay if she promised not to upset me, and Elisa slightly growled, but agreed nonetheless.

Afterwards the two of us… oh, pardon me for a minute. Mr. Burnett is at the door, saying that I just got a phone call. I swear, sometimes the presence alone of that trickster in disguise annoys me to a dangerous extent. Probably one of those hyenas told him I was here. I will be right back.

Well, this computer is certainly odd. When I returned, I saw the screen taken over by dozens of little fish of all colors that swim to and fro. I wonder where they came from, and why they disappeared when I moved the cat. Rat. Mouse. Yes, mouse.

Well, what a pleasant surprise indeed. It was Melissa on the phone, the doctor that treated my injuries last night. She was wondering if I was feeling all right and if their treatment was successful. Of course it was successful. Both my lungs and ribs feel fine and my head is not spinning anymore, just like everything else is fine, physically at least. If it were not for all the half-truths coursing through the media, that blasted nickname that sweet little girl made up, the hyenas, my hoarse voice, and the memory of all of last night's suffering, I would be completely fine. She said that she was very happy to hear that.

She pointed out my hoarse voice, said that it was not like that before I was intubated, and asked why stone sleep did not heal that. Well, I am not sure myself, but I told her that some injuries take several days to heal depending on where the damage was inflicted and the magnitude of the damage. I suppose the vocal cords take longer to heal.

She sounded more cheerful on the phone, probably the result of not being around so much death and sorrow in that hospital. She said that she was very happy to hear that I was all right, and added that she missed not having a gargoyle around to tend to. She thanked me for cooperating with the doctors, and said that she would like to see me again sometime to see how I am doing. I grew speechless for some reason. She unintentionally spared me a reply by saying that she had to go back on duty and had to get ready. She said good bye, threw a kiss, and hung up. I nearly dropped the receiver. What would Elisa think? Oh, I will ponder that later. Elisa will be here any minute, and I must finish this document before she arrives.

Once we were alone in that room, the two of us mostly kept quiet and simply enjoyed each other's presence. She would hold my hand and caress my hair, and tell me over and over that I would be all right, and that the following night, tonight, she would cook me such a huge and scrumptious dinner that I would not be able to glide for hours. She joked that I would be "stuck," as she so bluntly and lovably put it, at her apartment for hours.

I let my imagination wander for a moment, and I imagined being with Elisa and, oh, the things we would do… I turned impatient then, more than before, and I very much wanted to get out of that hospital and heal during the day so I could be with her. She said that she hoped that I would not mind, and flashed me an evil grin. I returned her grin, told her that I did not mind at all, and that in fact, I would enjoy it very, very, very much, each word emphasized by a caress to her beautiful hair. She could probably tell what I was hinting at, judging by her evil smile and the blush to her cheeks, and she said she would be eagerly waiting for tomorrow night. I had only seen her blush like that very few times. Her cheeks turn into such a gorgeous red I cannot help but laugh to myself and tease her.

I cannot believe I was hinting at such a thing. Under normal circumstances, I would not have dared, but last night, I felt so free, and I just had to tell her of my feelings and my wishes. All the suffering and torment I went through only made me realize that I should not take life for granted and leave things for later.

I am feeling very impatient right now. I can hardly wait to see her, touch her, caress her, love her, and make her happy. Sigh, I am doing it again. I am letting my imagination wander to very dangerous areas. She is a human, and I am a gargoyle. It would probably be very dangerous to pursue a relationship, maybe even impossible. And yet, I find myself not caring about the difference in species. I love her; she loves me. We have shared a kiss, my first kiss, and even tough the experience was new to me, it was, without a single doubt, very, very, very pleasant…

Love is all that matters. I will not surrender to what the world believes is right, but to what my heart feels. Our love will not be shattered by bigotry and hatred and our love will stand strong through it all. It will be difficult indeed, but in the end, I know it will be worth it. She is my soul mate, my life, my joy, and the other half of my soul. Now I am rambling. I had better stop rambling if I want to finish this document before my beloved approaches.

Well, after that little exchange, we simply whispered to each other kind words. Words that, to others, may not have meant much, but to me, they were words that calmed my soul and gave me reason to hold on. Words that gave me enough reason to survive and mend every wrong in this world. And every movement of her lips was so graceful, so… so… so sensual. She is like a beautiful goddess worthy of one's worship. She is my goddess, and her inner beauty, and of course physical beauty, is unmatched by any other. Her intelligence and sharp wit incite me as well. She is so compassionate, strong, understanding, beautiful, gorgeous, highly intelligent, so humble and sweet, and…

And I had better stop it before I leave this document unfinished and find myself rushing to Elisa's apartment like a male in heat. Hmm, what else did we do last night? Oh, she explained to me what happened in the operating room. Fixing my ribs was a strenuous task because so many of them were fractured and in pieces, but in the end, they were reconstructed and put back in place. My lungs were also a difficult task, but they were fixed as well. They could fix my heart, but in the process, my heart stopped beating, and they had to use all their resources to bring me back to life. She says that I came very close to dying in the operating room.

Memories of the nightmare I had returned to haunt me, and I wondered if I would ever be able to forget it. I merely smiled to Elisa weakly, and I promised her that I would make sure I would not get hurt in the future. She said that I had better not forget that promise because she could not go through all the worry again. I told her that I would not forget that promise. And, let us see, what else. I cannot remember much of what Elisa and I talked about last night because I was so terribly groggy. I will ask her tonight if the time is right of course. All I know and that I am sure of is that they fixed everything that was wrong with me, and I feel fine. So, Elisa and I…

I just heard the trio walking by this room, joking about a "Donald Bat" looking for "Daisy." Angela was trying to silence them by telling them that I was within hearing range, but they would not listen to her. In her voice I could hear the trace of laughter just barely contained. Why must they always ruin my good mood? Well, I will not stand for this any longer. I have had enough. I will be right back.

Well, that could not have been simpler. For some reason, I enjoyed seeing them stutter and try to come up with excuses to save their necks. I glared at them so intensely it unnerved them, and they said they were sorry, very sorry, and ran off without another word. I would have done more than that, but I cannot growl without having my voice break and without breaking into a fit of coughs. Oh, curse that blasted tube that ruined my voice. I hope it is not permanent. I would hate to growl at an enemy and cause him to laugh so hard they would be powerless to defend themselves.

What happened next, I would not have expected in a million years, but I should have. Melissa and Frances rushed into the room, locked the door behind them, and went behind the curtains. Melissa told us that they spotted John Castaway in the hospital. She told us that many men were following him, and they believed them to be Quarrymen. Elisa's joyous look turned into one of despair, then contorted into a look of hatred. Melissa said that they had to get me out of the hospital before the Quarrymen found me. Soon after she said that, we heard men rumoring outside about the gargoyle being in the room I was in.

Elisa was angry, but I was sorrowful. I was probably too groggy to get angry. All I wanted was to be in peace with my beloved, and I could not even have that because close-minded humans wanted my kind dead because of a feud whose roots were forgotten with the inevitable pass of time. Melissa said that they would sneak me out of the hospital and take me back to the castle in one of their helicopters. Melissa told Frances to distract the Quarrymen while she released me. Frances then left to face the Quarrymen while Melissa disconnected all the machines and IV bags that supported my life. For the first time in many hours, I was free of all the tubes and machines, and on my own.

Elisa asked Melissa if it was safe to disconnect all the things that supported my life. Melissa told her that I would make it through the night if I remained in bed. Melissa went to my side and told me that they would hide me under the covers. She said that I would be all right and then covered me with the blanket. A part of me was very happy that I was finally leaving the hospital, alive, and that I was finally going back to the castle. Many times I thought that I would die in that place, and I could not have been more wrong. I will not underestimate human science again.

So, Melissa wheeled me out of the room, and I heard her talking to the Quarrymen, to John Castaway. He said that he knew that they had a gargoyle in there and that they had to leave it to their mercy. I had to restrain myself from getting up and ending the life of that pitiful human, but I knew that that would not be wise. Melissa told him that they were mistaken, that there were no gargoyles in the hospital, and that they were merely taking a human that had died to the morgue. She reminded them that they were in a hospital and that they should not be in that place seeking for death. And above all, they should not be dishonoring the dead. She had left John speechless. She said, "excuse me," and wheeled me away from the Quarrymen. I was so proud of her. With mere words and her intelligence, she stopped the Quarrymen from ending my life. She is a lot like Elisa in many ways, even though they look so different.

The sound of the blades of a helicopter caught my ears. Melissa finally uncovered my face, and she smiled to me. Frances was next to her, smiling as well. I was outside the hospital, and I could finally see the stars and the moon. I smiled at them since I thought I would never see the night sky again. I whispered a "thank you" to Melissa as they wheeled the stretcher into the helicopter. She simply said that it was her job, and her pleasure. So, we boarded the helicopter, and we took off to the Eyrie building, to Castle Wyvern. I cannot remember the last time I felt so happy. I was alive, I had saved thousands of lives, I had a new human friend, Elisa and I had mended our relationship, the Quarrymen were mocked, and life was simply wonderful once more.

I could hear Elisa and Melissa talking to each other even though I was fighting sleep. Elisa asked Melissa if she was doing this for the money. Melissa told her, without hesitation, that money was never the reason. Elisa asked what the reason was, and she told her that the reason she saved me was because saving lives is her duty, her pleasure, and that she had always been fascinated with gargoyles. Elisa asked her if the doctors would divulge to the media what happened. Melissa told her that she would not, but that she did not know about the others. Elisa grew quiet.

I had finally succumbed to the drowsiness, and I do not know how long I was asleep, but Elisa suddenly awakened me by telling me, with a very sweet tone, that we were at the castle. I looked around groggily, and I could finally see Castle Wyvern, my home, my castle. Elisa commented that the clan would be in for a nice surprise as Melissa and Frances wheeled the stretcher out of the helicopter.

I could not believe that I made it, and I was very happy and very glad to be alive. I grew even happier when I saw the clan gather around me, congratulate me, ask what the hospital was like, and if I was all right. I simply waved to them with a small smile on my face as I was wheeled into one of the spare rooms. They parked the stretcher next to a bed. Melissa pulled down the steel bars, and asked if I could just roll over to the bed because they could not lift me. I was willing to try, and I did, but Melissa held me down and told me that I was going the wrong way. I opened my eyes and I finally noticed that the bed was the other way. I laughed weakly for a few seconds and then, with some effort, pushed myself off the stretcher and to the bed. Elisa covered me from the neck down with a blanket and sat next to me. I slipped the blanket down a few inches, but Elisa pulled it back up. I do not know why I found that so amusing.

Frances told Melissa that they should be getting back to the hospital. Melissa told her that she was going to stay to make sure I would make it through the night and told her to cover for her. Frances nodded, and left the room and the castle with the stretcher.

Melissa walked to my side and told me that I would be all right if I remained in bed for the rest of the night. She told me to be still and to not make any sudden moves. I smiled to her, but I caught a glimpse of David Xanatos, standing at the door, looking at me with the usual smirk on his face. My smile fell, and so did Elisa's. I was reminded of how I owed my life to this man, and I was frustrated.

He said that he was just informed of what happened at the hospital with the Quarrymen, and was glad that they were able to sneak me out unharmed. And that, more importantly, he was glad that they had saved my life. He told Melissa that he would pay her and her team of doctors the amount of money he had promised them. Melissa simply nodded in return. Xanatos then smirked at me, and left the room. Oh, how I wanted to rip his heart out of his chest just to get that smirk off his face, but that would be futile, since this man would even laugh in the face of death.

The clan gathered around me once more and started asking question after question, but Melissa silenced them by telling me that I needed to rest. She told them that they could ask me whatever they wanted tomorrow night and ushered them out the door, not paying attention to their hesitation. She locked the door and sat down next to me. She told me to get some rest, but Elisa asked if I could eat something first because I had not eaten anything all night.

I had not noticed how hungry I was until Elisa pointed it out, but I did not feel like eating; I felt like sleeping. Melissa told her that I could if I wanted to and that I would need the energy anyway. I shook my head and closed my eyes. She asked if I was sure, and I nodded. Elisa commented to Melissa that I was very stubborn, and they laughed heartily.

Elisa should be off duty by now and on her way to the castle, so I must summarize the rest of the night before she gets here. I had been going on and on about unimportant details and detailing everything a little too much anyway. So, I refused to eat anything even though I was starving and I needed the energy, and I fell asleep shortly after that. The nightmares that had plagued my subconscious all night were finally replaced with beautiful dreams of Elisa and I, dancing among the clouds, and being enormously happy.

I felt someone shaking me slightly, and I was awake once more. I saw Elisa smiling to me, and she pointed at the window. I gave her a confused look, I looked at the window, and I saw the darkness of the night beginning to brighten. I could not believe my eyes. Elisa told me, "you made it, Big Guy," with a smile that spread from ear to ear. I smiled back, and I was so happy that I swear I felt my eyes welling with tears of joy.

She helped me sit down on the bed, hugged me softly, and I hugged her as tightly as I could. I caressed her beautiful hair, and I thanked her for being there for me when I needed her the most. She held me slightly tighter, and told me that she loved me. I said that I loved her, too. She kissed my cheek, and demanded that I never scare her like that again. I promised her that I would try not to. She said, "good," and kissed my lips. My eyes opened wide with surprise, but once the shock disappeared, I grinned slyly and returned the kiss. That was the first time I ever truly tasted her lips, and the sensation was so… overwhelming. I could tell she enjoyed it as much as I did. I cannot wait to do it again. Kissing is definitely a very interesting human custom, and I wish for her to teach me how to kiss passionately. I wonder how I could ask her without making her blush…

I finally noticed that Melissa was nowhere to be seen, and I asked Elisa where she went. Elisa told me that the clan let her sleep in one of the spare rooms because she was very tired. I nodded to her, and I asked her if she could help me to my parapet so I could turn to stone there. She did not think it was a good idea for me to leave the bed, but I told her that I knew what I was doing and that she should not worry. She looked doubtful, but wished to make me happy nonetheless. She helped me to my feet, and helped me walk to my parapet, the one on the tallest tower of Castle Wyvern.

It was not easy going up the stairs, but Elisa and I managed. Finally there, I smiled to Elisa, and I wished her a good rest. She smiled back, wished me a good rest as well, and told me that she would see me tomorrow night, tonight, after she is off duty. I then turned to face the sun, I struck the fiercest pose I could muster with what little strength I had left, and I turned to stone with a smile on my face.

The long and painful night was over.

And I can hear Elisa asking the clan where I am. Well, Microsoft Word, and the little Office Assistant that would not stop staring at me, I bid you good bye. I must be with my reason to exist: my Elisa, the most gorgeous and intelligent female on the face of this Earth, and the one that has stolen my heart and holds it in her grasp.

The End