When you read this, you'll probably think, Damn, is he obsessed with snow and ice? (or something along those lines). The answer is...a little, but not for the same reason as other people my age; not "oh, fire & ice, sexeh, i think ima get me some-a that". No, it's 'cause that's what I grew up in. Yay, Minnesota. And no, that's not where I am now. I can't say I hate everyone here anymore...my fiancée and both little sisters were born and/or raised here, after all.
Anyway, onto this story teaser (which is in a fictional place similar to northwestern Russia in the near future):
Kaishi
"It's not that; I just wanted to say-"
"No! Never!"
"Why not?!"
"You're MY sister, not THEIRS! I shouldn't need to explain myself."
"But-" Natalie starts, but is interrupted by Adara.
"No."
"Listen to me for once! You're always doing this!"
"I'm listening. Say it."
"Okay, it's not a permanent thing. Two months. Tops. I'll be back before you get to Kaishi. Everything'll be better after that. I promise."
"That's it? That's all you wanted to say, Natalka?" Adara crossed her arms.
"Yes. That's it."
Adara harumphed and turned away from her sister long enough to realize that Natalie was the one who was destroying HER chance of survival. There's no way they'd let her in THERE when they knew her sister was off killing others of their kind. "You're letting me die until then. Thanks so VERY much!"
Natalie stepped back. "I'm not going to let you die. As soon as I get back, I'll get the best doctors I can find to fix you."
"I'm not as broken as you." Adara continued walking away, arms still crossed over her chest. She coughed, blood sticking to her hand. "If I die before you get back, it'll be my dying wish to make you come with me. You know these people won't object to killing us."
Natalie dropped her head. She walked outside and climbed into her car, which had already been buried under the snow. She turned on the external heat and sat with her head back, waiting for the snow to get below windshield-level. She switched off the heat and drove away.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Addicted
This story is an attempt at a non-cliché vampire story, but so far it sucks. It's okay. Go ahead and tell me (after you read it) if you agree and I'm willing to accept any suggestions for it, though don't expect to ever see it anything like this if/when I ever get it published...but I don't suggest waiting for that.
Addicted
“This’ll be my last fix. I swear.”
“You say that every time, Dorian, but we both know what happens if you stop. It‘s not like you have much of a choice.” The doctor says, inserting the needle into the patient’s arm.
“You got me addicted to it.”
“I'm just doing my job. It was Dr. St. James that got you addicted; she is the head of the department.” The doctor removes the empty syringe.
“Are you like the other doctors?” said Dorian, looking down at the skin of his inner elbow, which had long ago turned black.
“No. I really think she’s onto something with this stuff.” Dr. Arvizu capped the syringe and put it in his pocket.
“The FDA will never approve it.” Dorian said through tightly clenched teeth.
“That’s why she has to pay for the research out of her own pocket.”
“Did she have to experiment on Caitlin, too? She started on this shit younger than I was.” He slid off the edge of his bed, even though he had nowhere to go; he wasn’t authorized to leave the hospital today. He took his cane and walked to the back corner of the room.
“Your other sister was too old.” The doctor said apathetically.
“She was only a year older than me! Caitlin hadn’t even hit puberty yet!”
“Don’t talk to me about it. I’ve already told you everything I know. Ask Dr. St. James if you want to know more about it. But going by what I know is in it, if you were any older the shock to your heart would kill you. I’m surprised you haven’t died yet.” The doctor starts to open the door. “I’d think you would have tried to get out before this. It wouldn’t be hard to kill me with all that adrenaline in your veins from this.”
“If I wanted to take you out, I could. But I’m not stupid. I kill you I’ll have to deal with Feitosa more. I can’t stand that guy.”
“Be happy you don’t have to see him until Friday, then. You get to look forward to time outside tomorrow. Are you going to waste that chance again by staying here and watching Nurse Aryavan? Don't think your guards do'‘t tell me things.”
“I think I’ll go and be social for once.” Dorian waves his cane to tell the doctor to leave.
“‘Be Social.’ Right.” The doctor smiles and leaves. Dorian can hear all the locks on his door move into place.
Alone until tomorrow. Pump me full of adrenaline and lock me in a tiny bedroom.
Dorian lies down on his bed again, staring at the ceiling, where he’d redrawn a map of the hospital with a pen one afternoon. He fully labeled it and listed all doctors, as well. They gave him a rainbow array of Sharpies to play with today, so he went over each section, color coding every department.
Naturally, his department was red; the Vamp Department. This is where they did all transfusions and also where they turned him and his sister into “vampires”.
Epinephrine, Insulin, Metaprolol…I wonder what else they’re poisoning us with. I can’t stand all these windows. I’ve seen enough bald heads go by for the rest of my life. I hope I never get what they have; I couldn’t handle knowing I only have a few months to live. Couldn’t they put us farther from the children and cancer patients? Aren’t we suffering enough? Aren’t they? At least they get fresh visitors. They have someone to cry on. We don’t even have each other…three hours a week isn’t enough time away from this suffering.
I wonder what that nurse’s name is…I can’t just call her Nurse Aryavan for the rest of my life. It’s not like I’m a danger to those people; why won’t they let me talk to her?
Dorian hears a knock on the door. Firm, but gentle…it’s already noon? As Dorian predicted, the man who cleaned the rooms, affectionately called Mr. Janitor by Dorian and his sisters, unlocks the door and walks in with his cart. As usual, a posse of armed guards stands outside the door so Dorian can’t escape or hurt Mr. Janitor. They should know by now I’m not going to try. Ten years is plenty of time to learn when someone’s not going to move.
“I hear they’re not very happy with you.” Mr. Janitor says while sweeping, not that there‘s much to clean; the room was barren, save for the bed and a desk.
“Have they ever? They’re injecting me with something that’ll kill me some day. I don’t think they really care.”
“You’re sounding like your sister now. She’s at least at the right age for that attitude.”
“You think they’ll ever realize I’m human and an adult?”
“Probably not. The doctor’s been trying to outdo her grandpa since she got her degree. I think she’s going for the Nobel Prize with you two.”
Dorian bursts out laughing. “It probably has to be legal to win it.”
“She can argue that it is. First it was testing children’s meds for the kids down the hall. Then you got addicted to it. You’re her responsibility now. She has to find some way to get you off of it before she can release you into the wild.”
“What makes you an expert on this all of a sudden?”
“I can go anywhere in this building; I hear things.”
I wonder what else he’s heard. Maybe…
“How’s Caitlin?”
“Well, you’ll see her tomorrow, but she’s not as hyper as usual. It might just be because they gave her the shot late. I don’t know.”
“It better be. If they’re giving her something else, I’ll personally kill them all.”
“That’s probably not the best thing to say. Don’t you think you have enough guards following you around?”
“Well, I don’t want them hurting her. She’s only 17; they won’t let her make medical decisions. Damn loopholes.”
“I’d like to tell you she’s doing the best she can to take care of you, and I’m sure all of them want me to, too, but I can’t…they’re probably going to fire me for saying that. All clean. I’ve got to go, sorry. Oh, and I shouldn‘t be telling you this, but the doctor is coming in here today. I don‘t know the details, but I was cleaning her office when she said something about you three.” Mr. Janitor opens the door and leaves. All the locks slide into place and Dorian’s left alone in the room.
At least now I have fair warning. What’d we do this time? Maybe she’ll take some time to listen to us for once.
Addicted
“This’ll be my last fix. I swear.”
“You say that every time, Dorian, but we both know what happens if you stop. It‘s not like you have much of a choice.” The doctor says, inserting the needle into the patient’s arm.
“You got me addicted to it.”
“I'm just doing my job. It was Dr. St. James that got you addicted; she is the head of the department.” The doctor removes the empty syringe.
“Are you like the other doctors?” said Dorian, looking down at the skin of his inner elbow, which had long ago turned black.
“No. I really think she’s onto something with this stuff.” Dr. Arvizu capped the syringe and put it in his pocket.
“The FDA will never approve it.” Dorian said through tightly clenched teeth.
“That’s why she has to pay for the research out of her own pocket.”
“Did she have to experiment on Caitlin, too? She started on this shit younger than I was.” He slid off the edge of his bed, even though he had nowhere to go; he wasn’t authorized to leave the hospital today. He took his cane and walked to the back corner of the room.
“Your other sister was too old.” The doctor said apathetically.
“She was only a year older than me! Caitlin hadn’t even hit puberty yet!”
“Don’t talk to me about it. I’ve already told you everything I know. Ask Dr. St. James if you want to know more about it. But going by what I know is in it, if you were any older the shock to your heart would kill you. I’m surprised you haven’t died yet.” The doctor starts to open the door. “I’d think you would have tried to get out before this. It wouldn’t be hard to kill me with all that adrenaline in your veins from this.”
“If I wanted to take you out, I could. But I’m not stupid. I kill you I’ll have to deal with Feitosa more. I can’t stand that guy.”
“Be happy you don’t have to see him until Friday, then. You get to look forward to time outside tomorrow. Are you going to waste that chance again by staying here and watching Nurse Aryavan? Don't think your guards do'‘t tell me things.”
“I think I’ll go and be social for once.” Dorian waves his cane to tell the doctor to leave.
“‘Be Social.’ Right.” The doctor smiles and leaves. Dorian can hear all the locks on his door move into place.
Alone until tomorrow. Pump me full of adrenaline and lock me in a tiny bedroom.
Dorian lies down on his bed again, staring at the ceiling, where he’d redrawn a map of the hospital with a pen one afternoon. He fully labeled it and listed all doctors, as well. They gave him a rainbow array of Sharpies to play with today, so he went over each section, color coding every department.
Naturally, his department was red; the Vamp Department. This is where they did all transfusions and also where they turned him and his sister into “vampires”.
Epinephrine, Insulin, Metaprolol…I wonder what else they’re poisoning us with. I can’t stand all these windows. I’ve seen enough bald heads go by for the rest of my life. I hope I never get what they have; I couldn’t handle knowing I only have a few months to live. Couldn’t they put us farther from the children and cancer patients? Aren’t we suffering enough? Aren’t they? At least they get fresh visitors. They have someone to cry on. We don’t even have each other…three hours a week isn’t enough time away from this suffering.
I wonder what that nurse’s name is…I can’t just call her Nurse Aryavan for the rest of my life. It’s not like I’m a danger to those people; why won’t they let me talk to her?
Dorian hears a knock on the door. Firm, but gentle…it’s already noon? As Dorian predicted, the man who cleaned the rooms, affectionately called Mr. Janitor by Dorian and his sisters, unlocks the door and walks in with his cart. As usual, a posse of armed guards stands outside the door so Dorian can’t escape or hurt Mr. Janitor. They should know by now I’m not going to try. Ten years is plenty of time to learn when someone’s not going to move.
“I hear they’re not very happy with you.” Mr. Janitor says while sweeping, not that there‘s much to clean; the room was barren, save for the bed and a desk.
“Have they ever? They’re injecting me with something that’ll kill me some day. I don’t think they really care.”
“You’re sounding like your sister now. She’s at least at the right age for that attitude.”
“You think they’ll ever realize I’m human and an adult?”
“Probably not. The doctor’s been trying to outdo her grandpa since she got her degree. I think she’s going for the Nobel Prize with you two.”
Dorian bursts out laughing. “It probably has to be legal to win it.”
“She can argue that it is. First it was testing children’s meds for the kids down the hall. Then you got addicted to it. You’re her responsibility now. She has to find some way to get you off of it before she can release you into the wild.”
“What makes you an expert on this all of a sudden?”
“I can go anywhere in this building; I hear things.”
I wonder what else he’s heard. Maybe…
“How’s Caitlin?”
“Well, you’ll see her tomorrow, but she’s not as hyper as usual. It might just be because they gave her the shot late. I don’t know.”
“It better be. If they’re giving her something else, I’ll personally kill them all.”
“That’s probably not the best thing to say. Don’t you think you have enough guards following you around?”
“Well, I don’t want them hurting her. She’s only 17; they won’t let her make medical decisions. Damn loopholes.”
“I’d like to tell you she’s doing the best she can to take care of you, and I’m sure all of them want me to, too, but I can’t…they’re probably going to fire me for saying that. All clean. I’ve got to go, sorry. Oh, and I shouldn‘t be telling you this, but the doctor is coming in here today. I don‘t know the details, but I was cleaning her office when she said something about you three.” Mr. Janitor opens the door and leaves. All the locks slide into place and Dorian’s left alone in the room.
At least now I have fair warning. What’d we do this time? Maybe she’ll take some time to listen to us for once.
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