Author's note: I actually completed the main storyline of Trauma Center: New Blood recently. Next up is Under the Knife 2!
Oh, if that Saturday morning weren't one to hop into the car and dash to church as fast as your little wheels could carry you… I…
I actually wouldn't have done that, anyway. Just wasn't part of the group who was raised or influenced in such a way. I fully respect those who were, and… I hope they're happy.
For the same hands of fate would turn tables on me that day.
Walking through the doors to the hospital was like a fresh, new experience. Who knew that I'd be here as something other than a tag-along observer… or in a few cases, the aching victim?
I was a hero.
I quickly whipped my phone out, feeling the official lift in my stride. Checking the time to see that just as I was yards away from my destination, I was one minute off from arriving on time. My mother had dropped me off here, for she had to attend to her work, a.k.a. our living.
And you know? My mind had just… put out a declining hand to the thought that being this hero was putting my own life at risk. I didn't remember until it was too… uh…
That fresh hospital smell, huh?! My senses always seemed to come alive whenever I walked in there. The constant hand-sanitizing stations, the sterilization of just about anything you touch... the fact that the place could have been a blister of disease waiting to burst?
My heart began to race as I walked through those same doors. The world came to this finite point as I walked up to Emily's door, realizing that I could potentially not have been as welcome this time around. Therefore, I knocked thrice on the birch-wood door.
"Who would you be?" echoed what I knew to be Dr. Vaughn's voice. What dashing convenience.
"A-Are you Dr. Vaughn?" I asked nervously.
"…Yes, ma'am," he replied, seeming to relax just a tad. "…Would you happen to be Rachael? The girl I discussed Emily's disease with yesterday?"
"That would be me," I smiled. "May I come in?"
"Please do," he said.
Without haste, I practically kicked the door open and set foot on the tiled floor of what felt to be a new ICU room. Same patient…
Different presence. The doctor, who I knew to have been standing over Emily, had now turned around to gather the info on my appearance as well.
Markus, himself… looked like the type of man who deserved to be a doctor. He had hair of an almost spruce-brown, a sliver of facial hair of the same color, a doctor's jacket that almost reached the floor, and… the type of look in his eyes that told me that how he wanted to help Emily (helping me as well, in turn) was something that years of work had led up to.
He simply looked upon me with an alarming, yet totally understandable curiosity.
Then, I caught on to the fact that he had his hands on Emily's bed, which I had just realized was on wheels. I instinctively stepped away from the door's path.
"I'd love to talk further with you," he told me. "But Emily's operation has waited long enough."
"Understandable," I nodded.
He muttered "And TWO Stigmas… H-How did she know?!" to himself.
The latter point seemed to bother him a bit…
"Wait in the nearby waiting room," he ordered, dragging the bed over to the door. "My colleague and I will come get you when the operation is done and over with. Then… we want to have a conversation with you."
I followed him out into the hallway.
"You're not in trouble, Rachael," he sighed, dragging the bed toward the door to the operating room. "In fact… you're a hero."
The latter point was conveyed to me with a warm smile and an appreciative eye.
At that, he kicked this door open, and he and a barely Emily disappeared behind it.
"Good luck," I sighed quietly. The fact was being driven into my heart that now was the time to hope, as hard as physically possible.
No sooner did I turn to walk toward that waiting room…
No sooner than that did stuff hit the fan, and with a crack of a distant pistol, followed by a small whiff of wind that told me that by walking in the trajectory that I was, I had saved my own life.
Then, the shattering of the window at the end of the hallway.
Then, my looking ahead to see the figure that would make fear ball up in my throat.
The figure wore blue jeans and a hoodie that practically enclosed his face. The figure still stared at me, his old hands shaking with a rage as hot as fuel-fueled fire.
He was about the height… about the build… about the disposition…
Not long ago had we actually encountered last.
Therefore, the world seized me. Therefore, my life crawled into my own hands.
The man raised his pistol again, and I shrieked. Giving a small shriek with the energy of a hundred voices.
Running away would mean having my back turned, but… wait… I knew a trick!
I quickly turned around and began to dash, shifting my feet with every few steps so that I ran in a zig-zag pattern. The anonymous source that unknowingly taught me this fact of life… Thank you. A few more bullets zoomed through the air, and I managed to dodge every one like a measly dodgeball.
For a little bit.
Getting to the end of the hallway, I almost jumped out of the window by accident. My throat felt shot. My lungs were practically tearing apart, my heart beat my chest like a drum… and I turned around only to find that the man had quickly reached me.
He clasped his hand on my left shoulder, using his other hand to jab the pistol against my right temple.
I had envisioned myself being that brave heart who pretended to embrace imminent death… but instead, I was the common human. Tears fell down my face, and all I actually wanted was to be free.
Markus?! Whoever this colleague is? SOMEONE?!
The man then got his face fearfully close to mine, or… just close enough so that I could see his pale eyes wrinkle with the rage that also shook in his voice.
Not long ago… I had only seen these eyes for a split second before they stared daggers from behind… anxious to see me get impaled with a dagger…
"I warned you of this, lady," he growled. "You spoke a word… Your blood would be strewn across the streets. Who knew it'd be a hospital hallway?" He chuckled maniacally.
At that, light shone back onto the situation.
The door from the operating room burst open, and out stepped a desperately worried Markus Vaughn.
"Any final words, you traitor?!" my killer whispered.
Markus had looked to his left, and had now set eyes in the proper direction. He appeared to be appalled beyond compare.
"And it only took you five months to croak," my killer growled. "Hmm…"
He moved his finger against the trigger.
In a final, ridiculous last-ditch effort, I cried "H-HELP!"
At that moment, Markus stopped running and shouted "Let her go!"
The man dropped the pistol in utter shock. He then turned around, seeming to show a weakness when he realized the identity of his challenger.
"…Huh?!" said Markus, after trying to get a closer look at my assailant's face.
At that, the same man that was after my head… fled the scene. He just booked it. Ran for what could have been his dear life. Markus actually tried to follow him for a few seconds, but soon became winded and shouted "HEY! Wait!"
My assailant… was gone.
I suddenly wanted so badly to hug the doctor. Not only had he offered to fly here on less than a day's notice from across the country to try to save the life of someone I could care for… but he had just saved my life as well, and not in the way that he was trained. Funny, when I put it that way.
Of course… the men had some sort of wicked connection…
But… I really could have used the hug…
Markus turned around, stepped up to my recovering, scarred self, and put both of his hands on my shoulders, looking me boldly in the eyes.
"Are you alright?!" he asked me.
"I-I… y-yeah, I guess so," I responded.
"I think you need to sit down," he sighed. "Come on."
I followed him, admittedly a bit shaky-legged, to the nearest waiting room. We walked in on an empty one, where not even a secretary was present. The lamp light and the sympathetic drones of music were all there was.
Needless to say, we quickly sat down in two chairs, right next to each other. I was grateful that the thought had even occurred to him to throw away the gloves that were riddled with Emily's blood.
…Wait a second…
"Oh, dear God," I said, sitting up straight. "W-Why aren't you back operating on Emily?!"
This hit Markus with a sense of… fear?
"Well…" he replied. "W-We've gotten to a part of the operation that only my colleague, Valerie, is specialized in."
"Oh," I sighed, sitting back again.
"Now," said Markus, placing a hand upon my left shoulder again. "I realize that you have just almost had your life taken from you. However… There is something that I absolutely must know from you, and now."
"Alright," I nodded, still woozy and shaky from my near goodbye with life.
Solemnly, and somewhat impatiently, Markus said "Stigma is a very isolated disease that only I and another… 'colleague' were supposed to know about. Well, 'isolated' may be an overstatement. Emily is the very first unplanned victim. By calling me, you've given her a chance for life, Rachael. But it begs the question… How did you know what it was? How do you know about Stigma?"
"…I learned about it not long ago, actually," I sighed, the flashback setting into place in my mind's eye. "August, 2014. A summer stroll, toward the store for a birthday present for my aunt that I wanted to keep secret… so that everyone could be surprised. I just crossed the street… when unknowingly, I approached an open manhole and… fell right through to the sewer."
Markus gave a startled reaction.
"Stupidly strange, right?" I continued. "I was about to climb right back out… but then… a piece of paper nailed to the wall caught my eye. Well… that piece of paper turned out to describe Stigma in its entirety. The strains, the symptoms… everything. And not to let you get ahold of any of the information."
He looked bothered. As if… my story had sparked a realization.
"And that was when that man approached me and held a knife to my throat, promising to kill me if I told absolutely anyone," I explained. "That was the man who tried to shoot me just now!" I felt chills fuss in my body. "His exact words were 'If yet another living soul finds out, I will find you, and I will kill you.' Well… whoever he is, he's true to his word. Or would have been…" I turned to look directly at Markus. "…if it weren't for you."
I needed an embrace so badly… My heart was practically shivering itself…
"I know who that man is," he told me, almost in a growl. "He will be apprehended."
"Thank you," I said instinctively.
"He… betrayed us," he continued, in the same solemn tone. "But… he shall face fate for it. Harming an innocent young lady over her knowledge… It disgusts me."
"I have that information on a piece of paper at home," I piped up.
"Keep it," Markus… smiled. "…We could need it in the future."
At that moment, a female voice shuddered "M-Markus…" from outside the door.
Markus stood up quickly, meeting a lady as she walked in. Poor lady was in tears...
"Val?" asked Markus.
"I tried, Markus," the lady began to sob. "Her vitals were barely existent when we began… My Healing Touch managed to raise them back up, but only for a few seconds. They plummeted back down, and… a-and…"
My heart skipped a couple of beats. I slowly raised a hand to my mouth, and I gave a gasp filled with dismay. The tears were imminent.
My noise of despair drove both Valerie and Markus to look back at me, their solemn eyes filled with tears of their own. Valerie seemed to be more broken over this than anyone.
"I-I…" she managed to say. "I… we… lost her."