Beep. Beep. Beep. The heart monitor beeped away cheerfully and the ventilator hissed at regular intervals. A calm voice cut through the beeping and hissing, "Ms. Penelope please pass me the drill," the afore mentioned nurse passed the surgeon the drill. Penelope could never understand how her surgeon kept so calm under such stressful conditions. The drill whined and bone dust flew up.
"Turn up the music, I love this song!" the anesthesiologist on standby quickly leapt into action thankful for something to do. He was bored; he knew this surgeon was the best and the procedure was routine, there would be no indecision or distraction due to loud music. No matter the complaints from other surgeons or staff, this particular surgeon could play the radio as loud as the little speaker was able. Led Zeppelin's Immigrant Song filled the operating theater.
"Ms. Penelope, the stent now, please." Penelope passed the surgeon the stent and held her breath as the surgeon deftly inserted the stent into the patient's ventricle. "Catheter." Penelope started and quickly passed the catheter to the surgeon. The surgeon placed the catheter inside and watched the extra fluid drip out. Once the last drop fell, the surgeon clipped out, "Plate." The entire OR left out the breath no one knew they were holding. The riskiest part was done, the only thing was closing up. The surgeon drilled the surgical steel plate into the patient's skull, covering the hole the surgeon was previously working in.
As the surgeon was suturing the scalp together, the distant sounds of many footsteps approached the room. "Music off now. Anthony, try to block the door," the surgeon snapped. Anthony, the anesthesiologist gulped down his apprehension and darted towards the door but before he reached it, the doors whipped opened, slamming into his chest and swept him on out of the way. 12 giant men in black combat armor and gas masks stormed in and pointed their assault rifles at the stunned occupants.
Heavy footsteps approached and a huge man ducked through the doors. He was wearing a leather shearling coat over an armored vest and cargo pants. Most abhorrent was a muzzle like mask that gave the man an appearance of a barely leashed animal. The man's breath hissed malevolence and a rasping gravelly voice asked, "Dr. Eclypsa Delalune?"
Stunning violet eyes hardened and shot fury at the man. Without an ounce of fear, the surgeon said in a quiet voice as cold as the scalpel she used. "Get out of my operating room."