Chapter 2
So, still around, huh? Still wondering why a fuck-up like me is bothering to write all this shit down?
If I had known that that bouquet in my back room was White Claudia, I'd have chucked that bad-boy into the dumpster, gone out front, and given that creepy lady her money back.
Especially after what I started to see after the accident…
Five Days Earlier…May 3rd…
I woke up to find myself staring at a bland, white ceiling.
I tried to move, and panicked as pain flooded my body. Somewhere nearby, something suddenly sprang to life with a flurry of beeps.
For some reason, the "beep-beeps" struck me as disappointed; as though they had been hoping I'd pop off in my sleep or somethin'.
A middle-aged man in a white coat seemed to materialize at my door. He was tall, lean, and partially balding, but he had an air about him that reminded me of all the Saturday morning cartoon villains I'd seen as a kid.
I wondered if he had plans to take over the world.
Dr. Doom…I laughed despite myself, and started to writhe when the pain radiated throughout my body.
"I don't know what's so amusing Mr. Daniels, but I suggest you attempt to refrain from strenuous emotional displays for the time being. You'll only serve to make yourself suffer." He said. He had a real haughty, holier-than-thou tone to his voice. What a prick.
I tried to play nice anyway. "So, Doctor…" I began tenuously.
"Kaufman." He replied. I got the impression that he expected me to know his name. Like I could give two shits.
"Doctor Kaufman, what am I doing here? The last thing I remember was leaving Neely's Bar." See, I can play well with others.
He gave me a withering look. "You were in a car accident. Driving while under the influence… Though I suppose I don't need to tell you that."
Okay, hate him. Suck it up, Garrett; you're in no position to alienate your doctor.
"So, why am I in here? And for that matter, why can't I move without feeling like my guts are about to spontaneously combust?" That's me, Mr. To-The-Point. Evie always thought that was cute.
"Though you only broke your left ankle, I'm afraid you suffered some rather moderate internal bleeding. We patched you up, and you are healing at a quite strong pace, but it was still major surgery. Such things come with a price." He said, dripping with arrogance.
I scowled inwardly. Fucker.
"You've been unconscious for the last two days."
I, of course, did not take this information well. "What?! My wife, my kids…" I choked.
"Have been here every day. I've already arranged for a nurse to call your home and tell them that you've awakened. Though I'm afraid I can't allow them to come today. You need your rest." He sneered. He had this odd look on his face; like he had more important things to get to.
Well, hell. "And?" I prodded gently.
"And if you do well today, tomorrow you may have visitors. I may even have a nurse take you for a walk, of sorts." Now he was just outright mocking me.
"Now, Mr. Daniels, if I may get to work?"
I sighed. "Yeah, fine."
Ten minutes later, he was washing his hands. He strolled out the door, muttering something about finally getting to his, "special girl." Whatever the hell that was about.
I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Hours must have passed, because when I opened my eyes, it was pitch black outside, and only dim lights from the hall cast a muted glow into my room…
… And she was standing over my bed… with a syringe…
I did what any red-blooded American would do when a stranger was standing over their bed with God-Knew-What flowing in a hypodermic needle: I started to scream.
And pretty fucking loudly too, "Help!! For Chrissake, HELP ME!!"
No one came, my hand to Jesus, no one came.
She leaned over me and purred seductively into my ear. "They won't help you Garrett. They can't. This is what you are for. You are a Messenger. You will tell him. Many will fall, so that the Chosen can rise."
Yep, knew she was a whack-job. A real hot whack-job, but a whack-job nonetheless.
She stood up, and put the needle into my IV. Shit!
I started to struggle, but the pain!
She put a finger to my lips. "Hush now, mustn't hurt yourself. It isn't your time…yet." She injected the fluid.
Filled with terror, I watched the white fluid seep into the tube. I had a moment to think about how it kinda looked like someone had placed a few drops of milk into a glass of water.
Then it flowed into my body.
Before I knew it, the room started to bend, and twist. It looked like one of those funhouse rooms at a carnival.
Fearing the worst, I did the only thing left for me to do.
I fainted.