The last patient had left hours before as Lisa sipped a glass of wine with her simple meal. She didn't approve of overindulgence, but it was easier to drink the fermented beverage than boil water every time she wanted a safe drink. She settled comfortably into her overstuffed chair with the quilt Adrian had helped her make.
The stitches her son made were sloppy and uneven. Though, not all of them. She'd taught him as she'd taught herself for surgery. By the time the quilt was finished, Adrian's hands were almost as steady as her's. With a content smile, she watched the fireplace flicker. The warm weather meant she could simply indulge in the dying warmth from the fire. With a sigh, Lisa closed her eyes. Another successful day.
Bang! Lisa jolted awake as a second and third fist slammed into her front door. She grabbed a shawl off the coat rack and rushed to check the window. She could see the stranger at the door and a covered wagon alongside a riding horse.
The man knocked and called, "Is the doctor home? Please, these people need help!"
Those were the only words she needed to run over and throw open the deadbolt. The man's face fell in relief and she was a step behind him as he turned toward the wagon. She could see the blood on the torn tarp. Large claw marks left tracks in the wood. She asked, "What happened?"
The man shook his head and climbed into the wagon, the horses harnessed to it practically comatose with fatigue. "I was travelling west to Vesterik when I stumbled upon a caravan. Something attacked them. These two are the only ones I found alive, but I don't know how much longer they'll last without a miracle."
Lisa clamored up beside him, the metallic smell of drying blood a familiar, if uncomfortable odor. Her patients were young. A teenage boy and a very young girl. The man reached to grab the boy who groaned as they were lifted, however Lisa simply reached out to place two fingers beneath the jaw of the girl.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Biting her lip, she covered the girl with her shawl and followed the man into her house. Stepping past, she instructed, "My clinic is just through here. Please place the patient on the stretcher."
She stepped up to a strange machine and slid a new canister into the reel. As the device started to record, she went to her washbasin and began washing her hands. "Patient appears to be the sole survivor of some kind of creature attack. He is male, approximately fifteen years old. Unconscious but not comatose. Responded to pain when moved from site of injury to the clinic."
The man watched her apprehensively. She didn't know him from the local villages, yet he knew to bring her the injured. Surely her reputation reached further than she thought. While she settled her instruments and began to strip the patient's clothes, Lisa asked, "Can you repeat how you discovered this boy?"
Still unsure, the man answered, "I found their caravan in the aftermath of a creature attack. The boy and girl were the only victims still alive. A woman had died holding them. Had to pry them out of her cold grip."
Lisa winced internally and said to the recorder, "The female patient arrived deceased. Cause of death unconfirmed, but likely due to exanguination from several large lacerations in various locations." She folded the boy's coat and placed it out of the way. "Male patient has bandages from a previous wound on his right forearm. Scars and bruises cover a modest amount of his chest and legs." She reached for a bandage shears and began cutting away the old bloodstained wrappings.
She recoiled as pale wriggling bodies squirmed and fell from where they'd been pressed against the patient's skin. The man audibly gagged and Lisa suggested, "Go into the other room. I have some soup on the fire if you're hungry. I can continue this without your assistance."
Without any further insistence, the man immediately retreated from the sight of the maggots. Lisa grabbed a forceps and petri dish, collecting the maggots and setting them aside. "Fly maggots have hatched beneath the patient's previous bandages. Some kind of bite wound is almost entirely debrided of inflamed tissue. Crude stitches hold the worst lacerations together. Healing rate suggests perhaps five days old."
Lisa continued her examination, placing an intravenous line on his uninjured arm. After administering antibiotics, she cleaned the young man to the best of her ability. Several hours had passed, making sunrise closer than nightfall. With one last glance at her resting patient, Lisa stepped through the curtains that separated the clinic from the house.
The stranger had fallen asleep on her couch. Groaning, Lisa turned to the kitchen and started boiling a pot of water for tea. As tired as she was after the night's work, she couldn't sleep until she knew both of her guests were alright. Though she couldn't help but feel guilty for not taking care of the horses. Grabbing her quilt, Lisa settled back into her chair with a cup of tea.
Breakfast passed quietly between Lisa and the mystery man. When he placed his used dishes in the sink, he said, "I'll feed and water the horses. Is there anywhere I can stable them?"
"Around back, there's a fenced in area for livestock as well as a well and small garden. Not that I have time to take care of chickens and such." Lisa looked toward the clinic. Her patient's stretcher was just visible from here. "I have hope for him to wake up today."
The man simply grunted and walked out of the house. Lisa watched him unhitch the horses from the wagon before walking back to her patient. The fluids she'd been administering were running low. She switched the canisters and brushed the curls off her patient's sweaty forehead.
"Mm... mom..."
Lisa bit her lip and reached for a cool rag to act as a compress. "No, child, but you're safe." He groaned again, confirming once again that he still lived. She smiled, glad for small blessings, and reached to look at his bandaged arm.
In shock and mild horror, the bandage was soaked red. Again, she reached for her shears. Cutting away the bandage, she saw that several of the stitches had popped. She'd been so careful. Had he had some kind of seizure or other muscle spasms that flexed them beyond their limit?
Grabbing her suture materials, Lisa used soft cotton to mop away the fresh blood before doing what she could to close the wound. The boy twitched lightly, but not enough to cause concern. Simply his body reacting naturally to pain even though she doubted he would remember anything from before the attack.
She finished much later than she expected. Remembering the maggots, she quickly pulled back the covers and inspected every inch of her patient's body. The leeches she half expected to find were nowhere to be seen. If a natural anticoagulant was not at fault, perhaps some kind of anemia? Though the boy showed signs of an illness beyond usual infection.
She reached for a fresh slide and made a blood smear to review under her microscope. Perhaps a different antibiotic would be more effective. Though she didn't know which one to try without a cause. Checking her patient, she set to work.
Lisa took a long drink from her glass of wine and stared at her patient. Nothing made sense. Changing her recording cylinder, she began dictating, "Patient continues to show no signs of improvement. Blood screens show a highly active immune response, but no bacterial infection in response to a common bite wound. Fecal exam showed no internal parasites. Physical examination revealed maggots on the wound.
"Maggots have been traditionally used to remove dying tissue from injuries, but is highly outdated due to modern advancement and antibiotics. Not to mention that maggots used improperly often led to further trauma. The patient's blood is also struggling to coagulate. I suspected leeches could be used for some kind of 'blood letting'. No leeches were found."
Lisa rubbed her temples and muttered, "What else... Maybe a toxin or poison, though I doubt I'll ever know what if there is a cause. There are no local plants I'm aware of that match the patient's symptoms. Which leaves... a virus? It's out of season though. I-"
The front door closed with a chime of the bell above and Lisa stood to talk to the man. Maybe there was something he'd seen that would explain why her patient showed no improvement. Stepping through the curtain, she noted the shovel and asked, "Did you dig up my radishes?"
The man failed to smile at her half attempt to joke and said, "It's for the girl. She should be put to rest."
Lisa folded her hands at her waist and nodded. "I know it's not how most of the locals handle burial rites, but I suggest we incinerate the body. I have a small crematorium for potential threats from infection."
"Alright. How can I assist?"
Such forward insistence to continue to help surprised her. "If you bring the body, I can prepare the chamber."
Nightfall brought the departure of the stranger. If she were honest with herself, Lisa was surprised he'd stayed as long as he had. While she'd tended her patient, he'd cleaned and stored the wagon, leaving the horses and it as payment for her services. Not that she needed it.
Adrian would be back soon with her supplies and her husband had set her clinic up with enough medical tools for her entire lifetime. She'd be busy with her patient's care for the next couple days long enough to not feel lonely. Remembering him, she grabbed the thin gruel and passed through the curtain.
The boy's chest rose at a slightly increased pace, showing that he fought off his illness. Taking a stethoscope, she listened to his lungs and heart, glad to hear no fluid build up. "Alright, child. Let's see if you'll swallow for me."
Using levers to shift the bed into a more upright position, Lisa took her place beside the stretcher and adjusted her patient. Taking a spoonful, she placed a small morsel in his mouth, watching to see if he could subconsciously swallow. Reaching out, she gently massaged the side of his throat and muttered, "Don't make me intubate you."
As if he could hear her, his body started to cooperate and she smiled, glad to see she could give him nutrition in the most effective, least intrusive, way. Once he'd eaten a portion she deemed acceptable, she settled him back to rest. Then she went to her cabinet and selected lavender and mint. Adding a couple drops of essential oil to her diffuser, she inhaled the soothing scent, hoping it would do the same for her patient.
"Mmm... D...Don't... gah."
At the distress of her patient, Lisa returned to the bed and grabbed his hand. "Shh... Shh... You're doing great, son. Keep fighting."
"Dad? Mom... mom, it's... here. It's here," the boy whimpered. He moaned and sobbed, voice cracking with each pathetic cry. "Don't... don't touch me."
Lisa's heart went out to him and she reached out to brush the hair off his forehead. Cupping his cheek, she coaxed, "You're not in any danger. Wake up. Please, wake up and let me soothe away the terrors."
Despite her wishes, he simply seemed to curl up on himself, his desperate pleas devolving into sobs and tears. Lisa wiped away a tear of her own, sniffing back her sympathy. Then she checked his vitals to insure he hadn't worked himself into some kind of condition. With a determined grimace, she left her patient and went to where the stranger had stored the belongings within the wagon.
A large pack dominated the space, but she noticed the patient's personal effects had migrated here as well. The stranger had even cleaned his clothes. Grabbing his heavy cloak with the fur mantle, she shook it out. Like a slap in the face, saw the crest beautifully embroidered into the shoulders of the boy's shirt.
The first impression it gave was of nobility. Or perhaps a protective sigil? The people in this land were so very superstitious. Though knowing what she'd learned coming here from her home country she had to admit it was born out of experience. Better to fear what might hurt you than hope it wouldn't.
Turning to the pack, she systematically emptied and sorted everything inside. Knowing she'd hoped to find something that would explain how her patient came to be in his condition, she couldn't help but be disappointed there was no immediate obvious answer. Judging by the belongings, the owner of this pack was some kind of hunter. Just like a large portion of the population.
Tools and daily supplies as well as rations took up the bulk of everything. She'd at least hoped for some kind of journal. Seeing nothing to help, she grabbed the boys torn clothes. Perhaps some animal fibers or tear marks could tell her what had attacked him. Then she could repair them. Though some of Adrian's old clothes should fit the boy when he woke up.
Throwing the cloak over everything, a small weight hit her stomach. Double checking the cloak, she noticed a solid small square along a seam line. Hidden pocket? With renewed curiosity, she inspected every inch to remove her treasure. At last, she held what she'd hoped for. A small leather bound journal held closed with a strap stamped with that same sigil from the boy's clothes.
With her prize, Lisa returned to her clinic and opened the book to seek answers. The first few pages were blank, but hiding a journal like that was only admitting it held secrets. She smiled when she finally found words.
'To the unfortunate soul who found my journal, my name is Trevor C. Belmont. This is my account of the hunts I completed. Though I don't know what you'll get out of it. After all, what fuck bothers reading a dead man's encrypted journal?'
Raising an eyebrow at her patient, Lisa turned the page and saw the promised encryption. The sentences were a shorthand of some kind. Each entry only took up a small portion of a page, hinting that each page could potentially hold a different hunt. Lisa set to work, glad for a challenge not presented by a dying patient.
After an hour, she had a grasp of what he'd done to hide his life away. Though not the most complicated cypher, it would definitely challenge someone less intelligent. Which made her reappraise her patient. Who was this child? At last, she read his hidden history. Flipping to the back, she found the most recent entries, sure they would give her the most insight to his current condition.
'Five days tracking. Heading west. Collected wolfsbane for remedy.'
'Abandoned farmhouse. Shelter for the night. Could return. I'm so fucking tired.'
'Rain made me lose tracks. Collected argentum larvae from previous victim. I'm on the right path.'
Lisa paused at that. Argentum? Silver larvae? She crossed her lab to look at the petri dish where her collected maggots had turned into pupae. They shifted causing an almost metallic sheen to be visible. Taking one and attaching it to a slide, she examined it beneath the microscope. With the light aimed, the insect wriggled even more, showing her that same silver sheen. It was almost pretty... for a bug.
Grabbing her chemistry set, she tested a theory by placing a drop of silver acid on the pupae. Immediately it recoiled in pain, the acid turning bright red. Stepping back from the tray, she covered her mouth in awe. A maggot containing pure silver? She'd never heard of such a thing. Yet it proved the validity of her patient's words.
She went to her recording device and inserted a new reel. "I have new data in regards to the patient. The maggots I removed from the wound are what the patient described in his private journal. He called them argentum larvae. In curiosity, I tested a radical theory, proving that they are at least partially made of pure silver. I-"
The sound of many horses approached the front of the house. Lisa glanced at her patient, then went to the front, closing the curtains. The bell above her door chimed and she answered, "The clinic is closed. If you wish to make an appointment, I can see you in the morning."
"Oh we aren't here for a checkup, Mrs. Tepes."
"Dr. Tepes," she corrected. She glanced between the clergymen, several of which seemed much too built for service to the church. "If I can't help you medically, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"We are here because you are accused of witchcraft."
Lisa took a step back. "That's preposterous. I am a woman of science, not-"
"It's not a matter of what you think, I'm afraid."
The tone sent a chill down her back and she immediately felt afraid of these men. "Get out! I won't tolerate such blatant disrespect- Get your hands off of me!"
"On behalf of the people and god, you are under arrest for practicing witchcraft. You will be burned-"
His words ended in sputtering and blood as a knife buried itself in his throat. Lisa covered her mouth in horror when the man holding her turned to see who had attacked. Lisa followed his gaze to where her patient stood in the doorway holding a scalpel. There was a pointed intelligence in his furious gaze. His lip lifted in a snarl and he charged at the larger man.
Lisa ran to move out of their way as a chair was toppled. She turned in time to see her patient grab the broken leg and beat the clergyman repeatedly over the head with it until he stopped moving. Then another tackled him from behind, knocking them near the fireplace. On instinct, Lisa reached for the metal fire poker and slammed it over the man's back.
He shouted in pain and the patient used that advantage to plunge the scalpel into his neck. When the man stopped moving, Lisa grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him off her patient. "Trevor? Trevor, are you alright?" She couldn't keep the terror out of her voice.
The boy half smiled at her, covered in blood not his own. "That was close. Who're you?"