Chapter 19: Where it all goes on

The mug with the blood blossoms infusion – a mug! Vlad would laugh if that didn't mean that old-wives remedies were the only avenue yet to explore for treatment; he knew a scientist had experimented a flash of green on the plants first, that there were certainly additives and who-knows-what in that infusion, but... a mug! – smelled like flowers and heat and something haunting besides.

June had brought it, as promised, as the sun had gone down, right after having spent half an hour establishing a procedure for the latest attempt at doing something about his failing health.

And so Vlad was now holding onto that little mug with the G.I.W. acronym printed on it. It stood for Ghost Investigation Ward, June had told him – the name the US government and Bianco had settled on. Apparently some of the agents and other employees jokingly called it the Guys In White because of the boss' tendency to wear only that color.

Vlad thought Guillermo Bianco let them do it because it played on his full name too.

He glanced uncertainly at June, who had a notepad with her, ready to note down any reaction and what he'd feel like for the researcher working on that treatment.

"Do I just...?"

"Sure. Drink it slowly, though, we wouldn't want you to get burned."

It was a valid concern, he realized. Despite having completely recovered the mobility and sense of touch in his hands, his sense of heat seemed a bit off there. He was aware that the mug was – supposedly comfortably – warm, he could feel it somewhat, but the warmth stopped at skin contact. It was there, sure, but it didn't seem to affect his blackened – dark red and ashy grey the further from the fingertips you got, until it disappeared back into sunless skin – flesh. His hands remained as cold as ever.

The mug could be scorching and he might not even realize.

Vlad doubted June had given him something so hot he'd burn himself, but it couldn't hurt to drink slowly.

The first sip had him frown curiously at the taste and the tingling under his tongue.

June's raised eyebrows were asking for details, so Vlad obliged:

"...Bitter. Not much, but. And it stings a little?"

"Like with chili?"

"Not that much. Perhaps pepper, when you bit down into a peppercorn."

June grimaced with an "ouch" and noted it down.

"Anything else?"

Vlad took the time to consider, but apart from the taste itself...

"Not really? Nothing I can identify right off the bat, at least."

"Alright..."

June stood back up, tucking the notepad under her arm and her pen in her breast pocket.

"Okay. Vlad, don't hesitate to call if anything changes. We're hoping the blood blossoms will help purify the ectoplasm still inside your body, they have ghost-repellent properties, but it might have side effects and we don't..."

She didn't finish her sentence, probably all too aware of the numerous ways Vlad's situation did not obey the usual rules, be it of life, of science, or of occultism.

"You said that already, June, but thanks. The whole 'rotting flesh' thing didn't reach my brain yet."

At the point he'd reached, Vlad didn't see how he could possibly get worse. New horrors, sure – but not really worse.

And who knew, maybe the treatment would do something. Maybe it would finally get rid of what had his skin turning blue and cold without rhyme or reason. It wouldn't be able to completely cure him he refused to believe to be disappointed to have hope but it might deal with some of the symptoms.

There wasn't much you could do against death itself but maybe, maybe he could die like a normal person instead of a monstrous freak bleeding and hiding its abnormality from everyone else.

maybe he could even live

or at least

remain in death and lies but without the agony

When June left – when Vlad found himself alone again, with nothing to do but pay attention to his own body – he noticed a slightly uncomfortable feeling in his chest, pounding slowly, calmly. It didn't quite hurt, no – but his body was almost buzzing, vibrating at two different frequencies. The difference wasn't very strong yet and Vlad was inclined to believe he was imagining things – except he'd just drunk a ghost-repellent-based treatment.

The young man but was he still one sucked in a breath and raised his left arm dead rotten absolutely horrifying just enough to have his hand with fingers black and cold at eye level. Vlad used to have shaky hands – only when he had nothing to do with them, not in general – but that had stopped with...

Well. He guessed that had stopped when his hands had technically died.

The point was, if he could focus on his absolutely-unmoving hand, he might get calm and posed enough to assess his entire body's current state.

And if he found anything more than an unidentifiable impression, then he'd call June back.

If not, he'd keep vigilant and wait. She did say she'd come back in the morning to do some tests and check that everything was alright after that first treatment.