Hospital Rambling

[Celeste Darken]

I have posted slowly in an effort to buy myself more time to research, but now I see it is too late. I should have written all at once, no matter the size. I gave all the details in hopes that someone would understand what I have not, but unfortunately, those details are useless without this post. I have scoured what resources I have to find enlightenment on this mystery, but all has been vain for me. So, what I should have done at the beginning, I now do. I turn to you upon this forum. And here is the rest of the story.

There were still many hours left before daylight became even remotely clear. And I wasn’t too worried about my plan failing. My destination was used to nightly interruptions and bizarre cases of people acting strangely.

I took him to the hospital.

With his hands crushed as they were, I had no fear of him undoing his seatbelt, and he was too delirious to be very coordinated with any other body parts. The nonsense of “Jessica” had stopped; he swung in and out of consciousness and was too weak to do anything but groan and mumble incoherently. I quickly parked near the emergency entrance and carried him in, but not before I had searched him for identification and pulled his sunglasses over my own eyes, a precaution in case my eyes did shine with fire, as he claimed. On this forum I shall call him John Doe. I signed him in under his real name and answered the preliminary questions the nurse asked me. I told her I didn’t know how he had crushed his hands. Then I answered the hairier questions.

“You’ll have to be honest, ma’am,” the nurse told me; I was certain she thought my wearing of sunglasses at this time of night odd. But I nodded anyway, and knew she was asking this because of the circumstances. “Is he on anything he shouldn’t be? Like illegal drugs or narcotics?”

“I don’t know. But I think it very possible, from his actions.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when he was cognizant, he claimed I was a vampire out to kill him. He also claimed I killed five other friends of his.”

She stared hard at me. But I said nothing more other than to answer her questions . . . with the vague truth. I also told her my name was Jessica; I had garnered enough information from John Doe’s rambling to impersonate her with a bit of success. However, his situation required immediate attention, so she postponed the questions so she and a male nurse could situate Mr. Doe on a hospital bed. With the misconception of my status as John Doe’s girlfriend, I was continually updated on their procedural actions and assured that he would be all right. After changing his clothing into the requisite gown, they set an IV into his arm that would ensure his spending the night in a painless stupor.

In short, he was useless as an informant so long as he was under the influence of the painkiller. I waited as long as the night permitted. I was later informed after x-rays and tests that his hands were crushed into proverbial powder; something I already knew, but their diagnosis was a permanent incapacitation. I felt no remorse. But time was running short; I could wait no longer this night. I told the nurse I needed to leave and did so, claiming the van for my own, though that ownership would be brief. I was certain there would be a G.P.S. or other equally annoying device planted into it. There was also the chance of it being called in to police headquarters as stolen. I used it to get quickly to a temporary safe house nearby, tore out the engine and anything else to keep it from being useful to the hunters, and found refuge from the sun with enough time to ponder matters and to backtrack a ways to make certain I was not followed.

The trip to the hospital would take me no more than an hour running at full speed. I would return the next evening to have a small “chat” with John Doe.

Celeste Darken

[Celeste Darken]

I prefer to keep my messages short, though I certainly keep them long. A contradiction, I know, but I suppose I myself am a contradiction: a vampire trying to aid humanity by destroying her own kind. By keeping a message short, I suppose I mean I will use a system of chapters. I recall my own life in chapters, some quite disorganized and not even in correct order. Maybe it is a subconscious effort to find a variable I can control in my life. But maybe I am just rambling.

Part II

There was no change. I learned John Doe had stabilized during the day, but he had remained in the hospital because nobody had visited him in the day and there was no way he was getting anywhere without another’s help. So they had moved him from the intensive care unit into a regular hospital room.

I smiled inwardly. It was just the way I liked it. With John Doe as a helpless, bedridden prisoner, it would be easier to glean what I wanted to know.

Alas, if only that was the case. There would be many and there were many complications. I wasn’t willing to take him out of the hospital because the nurses would expect me to take him in a vehicle of some sort. Even if I had kept the van it would be useless, as I had overheard on the radio the van had already been reported missing. Besides, I would also have to take him to my new haven, something I was not wont to do, and I would have to sign the release papers as well.

At least my plan to keep my identity secret was working. The few hours he had between his unconscious naps (he was on pain medication galore, I learned the moment the medicine wore off, he begged for more) he raved and warned about a vampire killing his friends.

All this I learned from staying in the darkest corners of the hospital and listening to nurses and orderlies gossip. I remember medical staff often worked for 13-14 hours straight, so my chance of meeting up with the same nurses was great. Therefore, I spoke to no one and stayed out of the way with every stealth skill I knew (which, I admit is not much, but I was getting better).

It seemed none of his allies were willing to pick him up. Or maybe they were dead. I had no way of knowing, so all I could do was return each night and hope he was still there. I had also become a topic with the nurses and orderlies, and it was quite plain my identity of Jessica had been stripped away, the phone number and address I had left with them upon signing John Doe in was his own, and the true Jessica obviously did not live with him, whether she was wife or girlfriend. After many fruitless nights of trying to find the time when he would be cognizant, I at last found the times when I could speak with him. It was rather ironic, considering the situation. The two times were this: dawn and dusk. Unfortunately, the time it took me to get to the hospital forbade me from going the moment the sun went down, and there was no way I could get there earlier on such short notice. The hospital was on very friendly terms with the sun. There was no way I could hide during the day and come at the setting of the sun. So my “chat” time would be very near dawn; the window of opportunity would be slim. But it would also be the best time, as the medication would just be wearing off to the point he would possess some consciousness, but little sense.

I made a careful plan that would hopefully allow me the maximum time to speak with him and give me plenty of time to rush to a shelter. I would have practiced it more than once, but I was concerned about an ally picking him up John Doe himself mustering the courage to leave himself.

I set out last night and put my plan into action. Everything went extremely well at first. I bypassed all without trouble. I even made it to his room the minute the nurse was inserting the syringe into his blood stream. She seemed preoccupied this night or in a rush to get her duties behind her; in any case, it was almost easy to sidestep her and to sneak into Doe’s room. The lights were out and he lay peacefully, though his breathing was heavy.

“John Doe,” I murmured softly. “I come.”

Celeste Darken

[Celeste Darken]

This, my friends, if I may be presumptuous and refer to you as friends, is the crux of the mystery. The oddity of the hospitalized man's antics astonished me and concerned me. But make of it what you will. I cannot fathom the meaning.

Part III

In his half-conscious state, he didn’t seem too surprised. His tone was quiet and sounded as though we might have a regular conversation.

“To help me?” he asked.

“Yes,” I kept my tone soothing. “But you must help me. I need your knowledge.”

“She killed all of them,” he muttered, suddenly twisting in bed as though struggling to roll over on his side. “She killed all of them. The vampire. She killed them all.”

“I need a different sort of information,” I tried again, remaining calm. “I need to know what we can do . . . the toughest weapon we have . . . so we can beat her.”

“First she killed Jerrod,” he refused to get off track, his eyes tightly shut as he struggled. “Then . . . I think it was Doberman . . . .”

I tried several more times, but he continued to rant about me.

“John Doe,” I reprimanded sternly. “I am the vampire.”

‘No!” His denial was a squeak.

“Yes,” I hissed. “And I will kill you too unless you help me. Where are your companions? How many more of them are there?” The bluff triggered the fear I desired.

“No!” His voice was weak; a small murmuring of a man having a nightmare.

“Then tell me. I need to know,” I whispered urgently in his ear. “What have I done to you? You come and attack me unprovoked. I merely defended myself.”

“No . . . no,” he moaned, in the throes of some inner nightmare that had fully claimed his mind. “They will defeat you. You’re evil. You’re the heartless one. They said so.”

“What else did they say? Tell me!” My voice rose to a growl. “What else did they say? Tell me now!”

“No, they will beat you. They will bring you to the altar.”

“What altar? Where?”

“They will beat you,” he insisted, struggling violently. I had to seize him to keep him from falling off the bed. In his drugged state, he considered the gentle motion I gave him an attack. He sobbed with fear and started into some sort of prayer. “You . . . can’t hurt me! They will protect me! They said so! They would let me join! Those blessed both by bludgeon and by blade may enter under the gaze of Leocadia! That’s what they said!”

Just at that moment, one of his monitors suddenly started blaring. There was a rush of feet, and I spun to see an orderly charging through the door.

“What the . . .?” He stopped in his tracks as he saw me. “Get away from him, before I call security! Visitors hours aren’t until ugh . . .!”

While he rambled, I raced for him and shoved him into the chair. He had already seen me; there was no sense in staying. A few of the others saw the haste in which I was leaving and tried to stop me. I did not want to injure them; shoving them to the floor or against the walls in order to clear a path, I followed the plan of escape I had planned. Only, instead of racing against the sun as I had anticipated, I was racing the humans. I had about five minutes more than I had originally planned, thanks to John Doe’s alarm. The humans weren’t all that keen on catching me. The nurses’ first duty was for Doe, and by the time security arrived, I was gone from the premises.

Back safely at my haven, I waited for the sun to set.

And pondered the new knowledge I had found.

Celeste Darken

[Dante Andel]

Ugh note to self do not try to out drink people twice my size, chances are I will fail miserably and probably end up makeing a bit of a fool of myself, anyways..

Leocadia that name defiantly rings a bell, not sure about the part before it as I’ve never heard that before, I'll give gramps a call or e-mail asking him to check out his records on that for you. Thanks to the killer hangover though all I seem to have found out is that Leocadia was a Spanish martyr and I believe saint of Spain, not sure if it's the same one that John was on about but its the best I could find.

Wish I could be of more help but it seems I'm going to have to wait until I hear something from home, if they managed to find anything of any use or not, till then its just a case of playing the waiting game I suppose.

[Celeste Darken]

Ugh note to self do not try to out drink people twice my size, chances are I will fail miserably and probably end up makeing a bit of a fool of myself, anyways..

Leocadia was a Spanish martyr and I believe saint of Spain, not sure if it's the same one that John was on about but its the best I could find.

Wish I could be of more help but it seems I'm going to have to wait until I hear something from home, if they managed to find anything of any use or not, till then its just a case of playing the waiting game I suppose.

I'll take your word on it for the drinking bouts . . . to be frank, the only thing I drink nowadays is red and comes in the flavors of A, B, AB, and O, among a sub-flavor of positive or negative. But I try to drink as little of that as possible.

I wish I could post here for the sole purpose of saying all is well, but that cannot be. John Doe left the hospital on the fifth, three days after his confession. I have spent all this time trying to find his trail, but there is none. He is too mundane to describe adequately, and there is a possibility he was healed after leaving the hospital, so hands encased in a plaster cast will likely no longer apply.

Any help you can offer though, Dante and anyone else willing, would be greatly appreciated.

Celeste Darken