The quiet drops of black rain pattered against the broken windowsill. Water leaked into the emergency room, running in slow, careful streams across the cracked stone of the floor.
The doctor placed his talons on the edge of the bed, glancing across the flickering, yet functioning, screen with quiet nervousness on his face. He was a small, middle-aged griffon, no larger than a fully-grown mare, and his feathers were marred with dirt, grime, and were wet from the rain that leaked from the ceiling.
His patient – if she could be called that – lay in the middle of an old operating table. She was also a griffon, albeit a much younger one, and with far more pristine plumage that was matted with blood. She was completely unconscious, her slow breathing the only sign that she still lived despite the massive pipe protruding from her side.
The doctor clutched the scalpel harshly. Did he cut or not? Was it worth the risk? His talons trembled at the thought.
He breathed in just once and stilled his shaking claws. He knew there was no point in leaving it in; such a thing as that would kill her if it were in any longer. Even without a way to dull the pain, he could not risk it.
His talons shook slightly.
The white, sterile hospital gleamed in the morning sun. Its halls reflected the light that came through the massive windows as though no creature had walked through them in decades.
Doctor Richard Crow, a young griffon wearing a lab coat, glanced over the edge of his clipboard as a nurse approached him. “May I help you, Miss?” he asked dismissively.
“Yes, Doctor,” said the nurse. She was a young earth pony, and kept her red mane tied up so that it could hardly be seen under her hat. “Doctor Springs wants you to help him in the operating room.”
Crow raised an eyebrow. “Is it serious?”
“Yes, Doctor,” repeated the nurse. “He wanted me to find you as soon as I could.”
“Right.” Crow placed the clipboard down on a nearby table. He made sure to move it so that its sides were parallel to those of said table. “I’ll go down immediately, then. Thank you, Nurse…?”
“Chime, Doctor,” she finished. “Nurse Chime.”
“Ah, thank you.” Crow repeated, and glanced off toward the operating room. “Then I shall be off.”
The doctor could hear the rain tapping against the broken glass outside the dilapidated hospital. Water gathered around his paws, merging with the blood of his patient.
The scalpel shook, even as he tried to calm his frightened nerves. Why was he so terrified? It would be a simple matter to him! He had to remain calm, cool, and collected. It would hardly do for a doctor to become so nervous in front of a patient.
He gripped the scalpel tighter, and breathed in deeply. He could smell the patient’s blood and the rotting leaves blowing in the wind. The doctor breathed out, trying desperately to cleanse his body of anything that could possibly set him on edge again.
Crow placed his talons on the wall. “I’ve never seen a case like this,” he muttered. He looked over at Springs. “Did you say that her whole family…?”
Doctor Emerald Springs nodded. “Yes. From what the report says, she and her family were travelling by chariot when the two creatures pulling them vanished.” He paused, and placed a blue-green hoof to his forehead. “She was the only one who survived.”
Crow grit his teeth. “Those disappearances… They’ve been increasing lately, if what I’ve heard is correct.”
“Yes,” Springs said, “and it looks as though it’s not just those who are taken who are the victims.” He shook his head sadly, and looked at the bloody, unconscious unicorn. “What a tragedy…”
Crow nodded. “Yes, I agree.” He picked up a scalpel and stepped over to the patient. “Come on – this is going to be a delicate process, and we need to start now.”
The doctor placed the scalpel on the bed, next to his patient, and breathed deep. Why was this so hard for him? He just needed to relax. He had done this many times before, so why was this one so difficult?
His patient was unconscious – pain was not an issue. Even though she continued to mutter that weird name in her sleep – something Dash? – she was clearly not lucid by any definition of the word. Pain did not matter to those who could not feel it, so that was definitely not the issue. Then why was he so worried? He shouldn’t have been.
The doctor breathed in deep once more, and picked up the scalpel. Time was running low, and the heart monitor was starting to slow down. There was no time for feeling worried about failure.
“No… No, dammit, no!” Crow pressed his weight to the gaping wound, attempting to hold the blood in the patient’s body. “Dammit…! Dammit!”
Springs grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled Crow away. His feathers had turned bright red. “Doctor Crow!” he shouted, but his words made little impact on Crow in his state of mindless terror. “Please, do not waste your energy!”
“Shut up!” Crow pushed his way back to the patient. “I won’t… I can’t just–!”
The sound of hoof meeting face echoed throughout the room. Crow pressed his talons to the bruise, which had already started to turn red.
Even the unflappable Springs looked shaken by what he had just done. “She’s dying, Doctor,” he said quietly. “There is no point in wasting your time and energy on a creature with no chance of survival.” He glanced to the doors. “We must instead assist those who we can. But now… all we can do is ease her passing.”
Springs pulled a small syringe from his bag. It was filled with a greenish substance, almost matching his coat. Although his hooves trembled, he placed the syringe into the patient’s side. Within mere minutes, she stopped convulsing completely.
“You…” Crow whispered, and stepped over to the patient’s corpse. Blood continued to run from the large wound, but it seemed as though she had stopped feeling it. “I…”
“I know, Doctor Crow, believe me.” Springs shook his head, and replaced the needle into his bag. “Death is never something simple to look at. I’ve seen more than my fair share of it…” He grimaced. “It’s all a part of being a surgeon. Sometimes you can save your patient, but…”
“This never should have happened…” Crow groaned. “These disappearances… She never should have…”
“I know, Doctor,” Springs said gently, “but these things happen.” He paused, as if thinking. “You’ve been doing these surgeries with us for years… Have you never seen death?”
Crow shook his head. “I have,” he replied, “but I’ve never caused it.”
The doctor’s throat became tight. He could smell the blood running under his paws again, even as he tried to focus on the patient. His eyesight was blurring, his throat ached, and he could feel his eyes become moist. The scalpel shook worse than ever, and his senses flared into overdrive.
His patient continued her quiet mantra, but the doctor was not paying attention to it anymore. He was too busy trying to stay focused on keeping his talons still to notice much else. But the stench of mud, rotting leaves, and blood did nothing to help him do so.
The doctor screwed his eyes shut and breathed in deep again. He ignored the disgusting odors and focused on his patient once more. His talons still shook, but he had to work past that. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.
But just as he raised the scalpel to begin the surgery, the sound of a low, quiet beeping noise echoed off the walls. The doctor’s eyes widened in horror, and he turned to look at the flickering monitor.
Flatline.
The scalpel slipped from his talons, and hit the ground with a dull clank. The water and blood ran under it, as if mocking what had once been sterile.
The doctor stumbled back from the patient, her body still, her mouth unmoving. “No…” he whimpered, pressing his back to the wall. “No…!”
He slid down the wall slowly, his eyes glazing over as the world became a blur of sights and smells. He let out a low, quiet moan.
And then the doctor placed his talons over his face, and he wept.
