Inhuman (2)

You can find part one of the story here.

(2)

Amanda paled. “What do you mean, it’s like he’s not alive?”

Ignoring her question, the doctor hurried to the door and called for one of the nurses to come quickly.

Brian sat in stunned silence. He shook his head to clear it. “There must be something wrong with his equipment,” he murmured.

Amanda smiled nervously. “Yes, yes. Of course you’re right. It’s got to be some sort of malfunction.”

The doctor returned, a second stethoscope and sphygmomanometer in his hands and performed the tests a second time. Without a word, he shook his head in dismay. A moment later a nurse entered the room with yet another set of tools and a tray with syringes and vials. When the third examination yielded the same results, the doctor readied the syringe. “Bloodwork,” he said. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.” But as he probed for a vein, his look of concern turned to fear. “I can’t even find a vein. I’m sorry… let me just try…” he said as he found a spot and gently pressed the needle into flesh. “What the…?” he said, stumbling back. The needle had barely penetrated Brian’s skin. He tried another spot and another. Then the other arm but it was no use.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Amanda demanded, the doctor’s alarm apparent.

“There’s something under the skin. Some kind of barrier.” He sat heavily on his rolling chair and looked at Brian with awe. “Artificial limbs? Some kind of advanced technology? Experimental surgery? Something? Anything? Any way you can explain this?”

Brian shook his head. “Never even had my tonsils out.”

The doctor rubbed his hands over his face. “We need to run more tests. I’m sending you to the hospital.” He turned to the nurse. “Call ahead. Tell them the situation so they’re ready and waiting for him.” Then taking a deep breath, he continued, “There has to be a logical reason for these findings. We’ll get x-rays, a CT scan, maybe an MRI. The hospital is one of the finest in the country. You’ll be in the best possible hands.”

They sat, not speaking while the doctor typed furiously into his laptop. A moment later, the nurse returned to let them know a team of doctors would be expecting them and gave them directions as to where to go.

As Brian slipped his shirt back on, there was a commotion in the waiting room. “Excuse me a moment, will you?” the doctor said and hurried from the room. Amanda and Brian exchanged a look as the sound of raised voices, then shouting and doors slamming reached their ears.

“We’d better go see what’s happening,” Brian said. But just as they reached the door, it flew open and two imposing figures blocked the way. The men, at least they assumed they were men based on their size, were dressed in hazmat suits, masks and boots.

“You both need to come with us,” one of them ordered.

“But what…?” Brian began, before the other one cut him off.

“Everything will be explained. We need to go now. This is not optional.” And to emphasize his point, he raised his gloved hand to show them a gun.

Each man took Brian and Amanda by the arm and escorted them through the now deserted office. A third man stood guarding the door. After exiting the building, they were herded into a waiting van. Just as the door was sliding closed, Amanda turned back to see the man guarding the office pull of his mask and unzip the suit.

“What’s going on? Are we in some kind of danger?” Brian demanded as the van began to move.

The two men who had rushed them from the office now removed their protective clothing as well. The one holding the gun spoke. “No. We just needed a plausible cover to remove you from the office. The staff and the other waiting patients were told there was a noxious spill, and we were clearing the area as a precaution.”

“But why? Where are you taking us?” Amanda asked, her voice shaking.

“I’m not authorized to answer your questions. Please be patient,” he said.

“We were supposed to be going to the hospital… my husband…” Amanda began.

“We are aware of that ma’am. That’s how we found you. We been monitoring medical facilities on the chance something like this would happen. That’s all I can tell you. Please remain calm.”

“Remain calm?!? Remain calm?!?” Amanda cried. Brian tried to put an arm around her but she shook it off. “You need to tell us what’s going on and where you’re taking us, right now! Right this very minute!”

The two men exchanged a look and the one not holding the gun opened a small case sitting on the floor beside him. “We hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He extracted a syringe and before Amanda could react, stuck it into the side of her neck.

“No….” she sighed as she felt unconsciousness overwhelming her. The last thing she remembered was staring up at the dome light of the van.

To be continued…

Inhuman

A brand new short story ~ by Meg Sorick

Her nose was broken this time. Amanda was sure of it. Usually she took precautions, but tonight she had fallen asleep in Brian’s arms. The nightmares he had been experiencing in their two years of marriage had been getting worse of late. The restlessness, the murmuring in his sleep had escalated to violent thrashing and shouting. It was a wonder the neighbors hadn’t called the police.

She pinched her nostrils to stop the bleeding and slipped out of bed. Amazingly, her cry of pain hadn’t woken Brian and he continued to wrestle with his imaginary demons. She winced in the glare of the bathroom light until her eyes adjusted. One look in the mirror told her it wasn’t going to be one of those things she could conceal even with liberal application of makeup. Why, oh why, had she not retreated to her own room when she felt her eyes getting heavy?

Brian would be devastated when he got a look at the damage. Maybe it would be enough to finally get him to seek help. He had resisted because he never remembered the dreams the next day. In fact, he probably wouldn’t have believed her if it wasn’t for the evidence left on her body, her face. She stuffed tissues in her nostrils and returned to the doorway of the bedroom.

As usual, after about ten minutes of frenetic struggle, Brian abruptly quieted, settling back into his pillows with a heavy sigh. His gentle snoring gave evidence that once again, he was oblivious to the nightmare state he’d been in moments ago. Strange… Amanda thought she heard a low hum, an extended tone lasting for a few seconds just before Brian’s thrashing abated. When she was sure he was settled down, she left for the room she had thought would be a guest room when she and Brain moved in together. Now it was her room. She crawled between the sheets and spent the rest of the night on her back to keep her bloodied nose from seeping.

In the morning, in addition to the swollen nose, both of Amanda’s eyes were black and blue. As expected, Brian didn’t remember any of it. As tears filled his eyes, he pulled her into his arms and promised that this time he would make an appointment with his doctor. Amanda hugged him back, relieved that maybe now he would get the help that he needed.

“Next week,” he reported when he hung up the phone. “It was the earliest appointment I could get.”

Amanda nodded. “Ok. I’ll just have to be more careful until then.” She sighed. “Meanwhile, I’m off to Urgent Care to see if they can do anything for this nose.”

“I’ll take you,” he said. “What are you going to say happened?”

“I’m going to tell them the truth.” She reached for his hand. “This is not your fault, Bri. I don’t blame you. And… you don’t need to miss work on my account. I’ll be fine driving myself.” The truth was, when things like this happened, she preferred to handle it alone. She didn’t like the nurses and doctors looking sideways at Brian, imagining him to be the abusive husband.

The doctor indeed was suspicious when she examined Amanda’s injuries. After asking all the required questions to determine if she was in an abusive relationship, the doctor reluctantly accepted that the story of the nightmare was the truth. With her mouth set in a grim line, she numbed the area, adjusted the position of the nose and set it with tape and a hard plastic splint. Amanda thanked her and left as quickly as possible.

That night, Amanda decided to forgo any kind of snuggling with her husband on the chance that her exhaustion would result in accidentally falling asleep like she had the night before. She kissed Brian and retreated to her own bed instead. But rather than falling into a deep and immediate sleep, she lay awake listening to the chaos Brian was experiencing in the room next door. Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like forever. And then… there it was again: that almost imperceptible tone or hum or whatever you would call it, and Brian went still. Was this something new or had she just never noticed it before? She would have to pay closer attention.

The next night was the same, and every night following: Brian would descend into his nightmare until that sound seemed to bring it to an end. It was without a doubt connected, but neither Amanda nor Brian could offer any explanation as to why.

“We’ll have to see what the doctor says,” Brian told her. “I can only think that somehow I’ve been making the noise. Where else would it be coming from?”

“But it doesn’t sound human. It sounds electronic,” she objected.

“You said it was really, really faint. It could just sound that way because you can’t hear it well,” he replied.

And so they waited, with Amanda becoming more anxious as the week passed.

The doctor seemed dismissive as he listened to Brian explain what was happening, even in the light of Amanda’s fading injuries. “You might consider counseling,” he said. “But we’ll rule out any medical reasons first.”

Nevertheless, the doctor’s nonchalance faded quickly as he began his examination. His brow furrowed as he tried to find Brian’s pulse, it deepened to a scowl when he put the stethoscope to Brian’s chest. He moved the instrument from place to place to place. “I can’t find either pulse or heartbeat. What I hear… well, there’s something. This is extraordinary….” He moved the stethoscope to Brian’s back and asked him to take a deep breath. And when Brian complied, the doctor jumped back, his eyes wide with shock. “No lung sounds either.” He tried taking his blood pressure. Nothing. Listened to his abdomen. Nothing. He shined light in his eyes. No pupil dilation. “I don’t understand,” he gasped. “It’s as though you’re not alive.”

To be continued…

Small Cuts (20) Genevieve

To find links to all parts of this story, please visit the Small Cuts Page. Here is Genevieve:

I think it’s finally happened —I’ve disappeared. No one will talk to me. They talk about me as if wasn’t here. What does that mean? I can’t see them, I can only hear them. They don’t even whisper, they speak in normal tones. Wouldn’t you think they would keep their voices down if they knew I was here? Maybe this is just a bad dream. Yet, it seems to be going on forever… I suppose that’s how it is in dreams. You can live a whole lifetime in the span of one night.

My mother and sister are here. They are always here. Or at least they used to be. Not so much anymore. Oliver, Daddy, and my brother, Craig were all here in the beginning, too. Beginning of what? The beginning of my fade from existence? Am I in a room in my parents’ house? That doesn’t make sense. There are too many other people here–people I only hear moving about in the dark, people I’ve begun to recognize simply by the noises they make. There’s one who chews gum loudly, one who sings bad ‘80’s music. “Everybody have fun tonight; everybody Wang Chung tonight!” Seriously? The worst one is the noisy breather. He —at least I think it’s a he— makes a sort-of squeaking noise drawing air in and breathing out through his (?) nose. Never says a word, just squeaks. I’m afraid of him.

Allison is crying. Don’t cry Allison. You were always Mom’s favorite.

I thought I heard Oliver and Daddy arguing, then Dad and Mom arguing. Then some other man –the loud breather, I think– trying to calm everyone down.

Maybe I lost time again. I think there are a lot of people here now. I can tell by the murmur of voices behind the ones I hear more clearly. Then everyone gets quiet and I hear just one voice, remotely familiar, but not at all welcome.

“God our Father…”

What is this? What’s going on?

“Lord, those who die…”

Stop!!! I’m not dead! Am I dead? Am I dead?

“…to sing your praise forever and ever. Amen.”

“Goodbye, Genevieve. Go in peace.”

Click.

****

I hope you’ve enjoyed (if you can enjoy such a gloomy story) reading Small Cuts. This was an exercise in writing outside of my comfort zone in both content and construction. I found it a challenge in organizing the four ‘voices’, keeping them all straight, and in writing a set of very disturbing themes: Self esteem issues, relationship issues, depression, and adultery. None of these characters was truly likable. That is what I intended. Thank you for reading and watch this space for new fiction as I develop some new ideas. ~ Meg Sorick